#unless he went to a lot of VERY good and VERY intense therapy and got cool with a bunch of things real quick /j

[ninyard]

I Need to hear ur thoughts about the fact that in the aftg wiki kevin is listed as a pet in riko’s family is sick and even more when Nora confirmed that they could never been really friends because of the master/pet dynamic and how riko wouldn’t hesitate to put kevin at his place if he forgot his ( took this from the extras) Kevin you deserved sm better

Saying that Riko and Kevin were friends seems like a lie, but saying they weren't is worse. Riko and Kevin couldn't be friends because the master/pet mentality was something that Riko pierced Kevin over and over again, but they achieved an understanding and balance that they shouldn't have otherwise.

In short, Riko & Kevin were the end of each other's existence. It was what saved Kevin from most of Riko's cruelty, but Riko would have hurt Kevin tremendously if he thought Kevin forgot his place.

There's definitely a huge part of their dynamic that is just; Riko thinks he owns Kevin, and Kevin isn't strong enough to stop him. Riko thinks Kevin is his, his play thing, his property. But he's also smart enough to know that Kevin has the power to take him down if he wanted to. So he breaks Kevin down, destroys his confidence, makes him scared, and now Kevin will never want to step out of line. He'll never want to defy him, and he'll always come crawling back.

I think there might've been a small point in their childhood where they felt like friends, and when they were putting on an act for the tabloids, it might've felt real every once in a while, but Riko didn't respect Kevin enough for them to be friends. After everything they'd been through, they wouldn't have survived without each other for very long. They couldn't play head-to-head on separate pro teams, then together again on the National Court. They couldn't be one person without the other and continue on their lives as normal. Kevin would always feel his heart rate rise when Riko walked into a room, when he seen him on TV. Riko would always feel like Kevin was his. He'd always feel rage about articles comparing them to each other, he'd always want to kill Kevin for succeeding. Riko couldn't live with Kevin being better than him. He would've cracked eventually, regardless of the lives they were living.

[raincamp]

08 05 2023

shall i talk about the dreaded intake appointment from thursday? the one i spent weeks avoiding? the one that's been the catalyst for my intense feelings of grief and rage for the past month?

uneventful, absolutely nothing happened, there was no fucking justifiable reason why i was so adamantly against it, why i made myself go through so much pain just to avoid doing it. my paranoia got the best of me again

the dude's fine and has made no effort to piss me off so far. he graciously took the third-chair in my treatment team, and refers to my primary therapist as if she's the one he's reporting to— because he is— and i really appreciate his recognition of the hierarchy here.

he said something like "i totally understand that you dont want to be here and you're just here to tick a box so you can get back to work with [primary therapist]," after i expressed my disinterest in his treatment plans. like. thank you for acknowledging the fact that i dont want to work with you, at all, and am here against my will.

he does IFS which I didn't know beforehand, i've actually always wanted to try IFS but prioritized DBT because i know that it works for me already. so im excited to try that? surprisingly? or at least just learn more about it. im a therapy nerd what can i say? i could talk about it for hours. i have talked about it for hours before, i have spent entire sessions talking meta about therapy.

idk why but i was kind of paranoid he would try to replace my PT but he hasnt made any effort to do so. i was able to talk about her, and mention superficially how my relationship with her has been a trigger for my cough dependence cough and like, it was kind of weird talking to a therapist about my sessions with another therapist? but he was totally chill with it, didn't say anything like "maybe you two aren't a good fit" (we are though) like the people at the hospital did. it was refreshing to say the least

hes very Christian though, went to my dad's rival Catholic highschool, has mentioned me doing 12 step, im a bit hesitant to trust for these reasons. he mentioned how he thinks addiction is a lack of spiritual completion or whatever, i think thats total absolute bullshit and i'm gonna tell him that the next session that i don't spend 76% of the time dissociating while he talks

hes a lot more personable than im used to, he started the intake by spending 8 minutes self-disclosing information about himself, which was such a weird experience to me. he told me he has a family and children and a wife, i have literally never had a therapist tell me about their home life before unless it was in context of my treatment.

another thing thats annoying me is lack of admistrative coordination. i was supposed to get emailed an ROI for my PT yesterday (still haven't) and a signed excuse note so that i can actually go to my session with my PT next week, and if I don't get those im fucked. like. i'm actually going to be so mad if his lack of organization prevents me from being able to see her. i am going to stab him.

he also has a lot less boundaries than im used to which i feel like might be a recipe for disaster considering the fact that im borderline. he mentioned in detail how he doesn't like the power imbalance between therapists and clients and how he thinks it should be more like we're on equal ground. he described this visually with his fingers interlacing. and like, i get it, but also, i need that seperation there. i need therapists to recognise that i cannot keep myself from becoming attached, and create that distance between us, and keep those little boundaries stable and reinforced so that i don't get triggered or somehow fuck up the relationship with my symptoms. yk?

like we can have a close therapeutic relationship without making it so that we're on equal ground or enmeshed with each other as per interlacing-finger-visual-description.

the lack of boundaries just worries me. like he just gave me his phone number and was like "text me if you need me" like do you realize that if there ever comes a time that my PT has abandoned me and i need help, you have now opened yourself up to me spam texting and/or splitting on you over the phone? i already abuse my phone coaching privileges and annoy the fuck out of my PT, if there weren't by-the-book boundaries in place with DBT our therapeutic relationship would have gone to shit by now. he also kept me 15 minutes over time even though he had another client after me? if i were that client I would've split on him and left. its giving unprofessionalism.

im definitely going to have to make him set clear boundaries with me, for saving my own dignity.

i dont hate him rn tho i think thats the most important thing

- andrew

[frozenjokes]

congratulations. you win. you got it.

Scar is absolutely shaped by what the world wants him to be because that’s how it’s always been. He’s had so little agency over his life he doesn’t really know what to do when he isn’t acting in the name of someone else. He was never military but he is Very Much a weapon more than he’s a person in the way he’s been treated. Hawkeye was probably the last decision he made for himself as a lost kid who was just trying to take back some sort of agency in his life and prevent the things that happened to him from happening to other people however. He went fucking viral way too fast to claim that agency and got uber commercialized into HotGuy before he even realized what was happening. Scar was comatose for the years of his life where you figure that shit out. He just Missed it. And then he got picked up as a superstar and. Well. Without everyone else to decide for him, what could go wrong!

he is in DESPERATE need of therapy like. three times a week. honestly he should probably be hospitalized or put in a really intensive program for a couple weeks just to kick start some sort of healing because he is still very lost. He’s trying. He’s in the break down stage of trying.

Cub as the normal guy is so fun for me. He really is just a guy. Cubguy anons are mistaking his cunty autistic swag for An Ambiguous Something Else which is silly and fine but I have a theory at least a couple of them Only know CubGuy and haven’t read the fics which is totally fine but that’s where the dissonance comes from. cubfan135 is the most normal guy here. he just has the special interests of all time. He’s curious and likes to take risks and Know Things and if he could afford to get a hundred different degrees in complete different subjects he probably would. Fascinated by the world. Full of whimsy. Knows a little bit about a lot of things. He wants to cut scar open soooooo bad he was not joking he wants to know what the fuck is wrong with him.

Add him to the list of people who needs more friends outside this little circle. He doesn’t quite know it yet, but he does. His codependency with Grian is not healthy and it’s hurting both of them which. They’re starting to realize it. anyway he is my morally gray hot bf idk what you’re talking about /j (he probably has the strongest morals out of. To say scar and Grian is a low bar. But he’s pretty sturdy. He’s a good guy. The glitter thing is in good fun, exaggerated by the comics I make lol)

Grian is my perfect little [COMMENTARY ON THE US PRISON SYSTEM] idk what the fuck happened to him when he was younger but I can tell you none of it was made any better by The Everything. He’s always been troubled and no one has ever known how to deal with him so it’s simply Gotten Worse because he languishes under an institutionalized, structured society. Guy who needs more friends but doesn’t know how to approach relationships without Extreme Intensity. He has a lot to unlearn. It’s taken a long time, but this time he’s really on his way. Ideally he and Cub get some space from each other, but neither of them are ready to loosen their chokehold on that lifeline, so it’s something that will come later, naturally. Because of the complications of a romantic relationship, they’ll probably have to break it off at some point to properly get the space they need, or they’ll just let the tie linger while they hang with other friends for a bit. Both Grian and Cub have somewhat loose ideas of what being in a relationship means, so it probably wouldn’t bother either of them too much to have some space within one. Scar? Who knows.

This is all stuff that probably isn’t going to be explored in the fic unless I get a proper idea for it but I can say for sure these fucks are All getting some more friends.

Side note: it is interesting to me how you view their ages. I’ve been imagining all of them in their early thirties :)

anyway thanks for yapping and letting me yap this is always great fun.

i want to say something funny and cool abt cubscarian but i’m more fixated on the idea of dissecting their characters. autism won today :( but if you wanna hear us analyze them lmk 💪

YES I ABSOLUTELY DO (rb with you analysis and I’ll reblog and yap at you about it)

[gojology]

— gojo, megumi, yuuji | crushing on dense fem reader

the request :

pairing : gojo, megumi, and yuuji x dense fem! reader warnings : cursing, no proof reading wordcount : 1212 a/n : anon i cant believe u asked for hcs when im this bad at writing them ... girl r u good ?

GOJO SATORU  ‧��˚✩彡.

☆ Now, Gojo is as straightforward as it gets with relationships. 

☆ When Gojo first realized he had a thing for you, he was all for it! I mean, what’s not to like about you? 

☆ He obviously forgot how dense you are. Any expression of love towards you was fruitless, it was like you didn’t give another thought. 

☆ He would wrap a hand around your waist, call you affectionate nicknames, show you off to a very disgusted  and uninterested Yuuji and Nobara. Rarely did Megumi join in, he was probably off doing his own thing.

☆ You just thought he was being friendly. 

☆ He finds your density kind of enduring, often finding himself studying you, just to make sure no one’s hurting you. 

☆ Gojo felt like some sort of guardian angel looking after you 24/7, but he doesn’t mind watching you.

☆ I feel like sometimes he just straight up says, “I like you.” you chalk it up as some sort of... twisted joke. And he’s getting frustrated at this point.

☆ When you’re off campus, off doing your own thing, he discusses with Shoko, asking her what his best chances are. 

☆ Gojo absolutely follows every advice Shoko gives him, even if it’s stupid, because honestly he hasn’t got any experience with a girl as dumb as you. He’s tried everything at this point!

☆ When you and Gojo are doing your own thing, alone, he leans in real close to you, and it takes everything in him to not kiss your lips. That’s what Shoko thinks might work, near physical contact was enough of a sign to say, “Hey! I like you.” 

☆ Shoko always says that you probably won’t realize any approach other then a direct one, and this was direct enough right?

☆ This piece of advice he particularly ignores, though. He doesn’t go all the way with the advice, he’s scared of ruining the friendship, no matter what Shoko says.

☆ He values you as a friend so deeply, you always seem to forget that he’s the most powerful, and he enjoys the normal relationship between the two of you.

☆ Gojo never, ever wants to lose that. He’d rather call you pumpkin then the rest of his life, while you obliviously stared back, then call you another friendship gone haywire. 

☆ So you two just look at each other, all silent. You’re obviously curious why he’s staring at you with a starving pair of eyes, but eventually he laughs it off and hands you his favorite candy that he always kept in his pocket. 

☆ He hands you your favorite flavor, because he always remembers it. 

☆ You walk away, chewing and rolling the candy around on your tongue, and he wishes he could taste how your mouth tastes afterward. 

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO ‧₊˚✩彡.

☆ Poor Megumi over here, he’s basically a tsundere.

☆ Megumi hate’s confrontation, so he does EVERYTHING in his power so he doesn’t have to tell you directly.

☆ Nonetheless, he has a horribly bad crush on you. He also has trouble hiding it.

☆ Thing is, he doesn’t want to fuck up the friendship. After all, he was your “study partner”. 

☆ You’d often find yourself in his room, analyzing old Jujutsu writings for Gojo’s homework assignments. (Why the guy assigned homework, you have no idea.)

☆ Megumi was silent. He didn’t like speaking unless being spoken to. This changed with you. 

☆ While you’re writing or doodling in your journal, he sneaks glances at you. 

☆ Once in a while, he’ll realize you’re writing a word incorrectly.

☆ Instead of taking an eraser like any normal person does, Megumi insists that he would help you write out the words

☆ Holding your hand, he’d guide you, muttering the letters under his breath.

☆ He wishes he could hold your hand forever, it’s warm compared to his cold ones, and then his mind wanders.

☆ Wondering just how warm your cuddles get. 

☆ Blushing ferociously now, he looks down at the paper, and you look at him, confused as to why he stopped writing. 

☆ He’s incredibly stiff, he doesn’t wanna think about that while you’re right in front of him. You tap him a few times, and he jolts back to Earth. 

☆ You ask him what he was doing, but he doesn’t reply, instead stroking your hand’s skin and grumbling words you couldn’t understand. 

☆ You sit there, maybe he has anxiety, that’s why he’s stroking you like a therapy cat. 

☆ Megumi’s weighing out the positives and negatives of asking you out right this second, but his anxiety prevents him. He touches your skin subconsciously. 

☆ Negatives always seem to win though, he doesn’t wanna risk losing his friend. He turns back to look at your face once more, fluttering his long eyelashes, taking a deep breath in, and continuing the assignment. 

☆ “Next time” is all that echoes in the back of his mind.

☆ You just think it’s a bit weird, to be honest. Why does he look at you that way?

☆ You just think that he has his moments of too intensely thinking. 

ITADORI YUUJI ‧₊˚✩彡.

☆Like you, Yuuji’s also dense. ☆ Unlike you, he has the power and the courage of asking Gojo what these feelings were. ☆ “Yuuji-kun, have you ever felt love for someone special before?” ☆ “No, what’s that, Gojo-senpai?”  ☆ “That’s the feeling you get around (Y/N). You think she’s cute, I bet that.” ☆ That’s how the bastard found out he had a crush on you, through his equally as stupid teacher. ☆ This clearly spelled out disaster. ☆ Whenever you and Yuuji went out on missions, Yuuji would offer to cover for your role in the mission as well, claiming that you needed a break. ☆ “Why?” you’d ask ☆ “Because, I like you.” ☆ “Wow, Itadori-kun! You’re really nice!” you say, a smile on your lips, “Honestly though that’s a lot of work on your shoulders, I think I’ll-” ☆ He would stop you in his tracks, and kind of look at you. ☆ Yuuji thinks your work ethic is precious, and he deeply admires that. ☆ He also thinks your density is really cute, but he worries that he’s not masculine enough for you. ☆ This is why he tries to appear more, “macho” as he says it, around you ☆ But inside, he’s soft, and soft for you only. ☆ Despite his usual friendly and carefree personality, he would punt someone into the horizon if they looked at you different. He was overprotective that way. ☆ But you never truly got the hint, and he always was upset by this, in which Gojo would comfort him, and the cycle would restart. ☆ But here’s the problem: he doesn’t want to ruin the relationship. As much as he trusts Gojo, nothing was showing out of his obvious flirting, and eventually his confidence wore out. ☆ Sometimes he still tries talking to you in that flirty manner, but you just tilt your head and kinda go, “What?” ☆ Giving you a big, reassuring grin, he gives you a thumbs up. ☆ He sighs as he does so, telling you, “Nevermind.” and talks about something else. ☆ Deep down, he’s cursing himself out, he thinks it’s all his fault and not you just being stupid.

[fireflykaizoku]

I know you already wrote 2 soulmate body switch fics. And this isn’t really a request unless you want it to be. But I was thinking about a version of this that I think you’d appreciate.

I’m imagining it for Ace or Sabo, where the reader is a member of the Revolutionary Army or Whitebeard pirates respectively, so when they switch bodies, Ace and Sabo are reunited 🥺😭 that’s all i really have to say, but I’m gonna keep day dreaming about it because I’ll never forgive oda for not letting them meet again 😩

That idea is amazingg omg i needed to write before i went to bed 😩 and yes, i'll never forgive oda for killing ace, and for killing ace before he could meet sabo again (or at least know he's alive ugh) oda, pay for our therapy!

You were part of the Revolutionary Army since you were young, around the same time Sabo joined too. Ever since then, you, Koala and him where very close friends. It was hard having free time being part of the RA, but it was New Year’s Eve, the three of you were docked at an island, so you decided it’d be a good idea to relax and celebrate the holiday.

— And maybe next year I’ll finally meet my soulmate. — you said, before the toast with your best friends. — I’m sure it will happen next year.

— Don’t rush it, I didn’t meet mine yet, and it’s alright. Koala didn’t met hers either yet either. — Sabo giggled. — There’s still time.

— I know, but feels like it will never happen... — you sighed, then you heard the people at the bar starting the countdown. — It’s almost midnight!

You forgot about the soulmate subject, and just decided to party, drink a bit, and rest a little during the two days off. You waited long enough to meet this person, you were sure you could wait more.

The first day of the year was already over, and you went to bed early this time not just because of your hangover, but also because you’d sail first thing in the morning.

You opened your eyes feeling a lot better, but instead of waking up at the hotel room you were sharing with Koala, you were alone in a bed you don’t remember seeing before. Feeling freaked out thinking some enemy took you while you were asleep, your first thought was to get up and get a weapon before leaving the room and explore. But as soon as you jumped out of the bed, you noticed the body was different than yours, the shorts weren’t yours, and that belt with the letter “A” for sure wasn’t yours.

Then it hit you. You finally switched bodies with your soulmate! After waiting for so long and almost losing hope! You just needed to find out who this man is, and you also needed to contact Sabo somehow. What if this man was someone dangerous? If he found out you were part of the RA, it wouldn’t be good.

You left the room and there was also lots of noises outside, with men laughing and talking. Some man greeted you, calling you “second commander”; you just smiled back, trying not to raise any suspicions.

When you finally found a bathroom with a mirror, you notice how handsome your soulmate was, with dark hair, freckles, and a tattoo on his arm. You kept looking at the reflection, just appreciating how cute he was. He wasn’t just a good looking man, but you remembered the wanted poster you saw once, that man was Portgas D. Ace, also known as Fire Fist Ace, part of the Whitebeard Pirates. Now the “second commander” made sense.

— Ace, are you okay yoi? You’ve been here for a long time. Is it hangover? — someone knocked on the door.

— I’m fine. — you replied quickly. — Just give me a minute.

When the footsteps were far, you took a deep breath. Whitebeard was indeed a powerful man, he probably could help you somehow.

You walked towards the deck, only to find Edward Newgate sitting outside. That man was huge and intimidating, way more intimidating than any other pirate you ever met so far. You were nervous, but approached him anyway.

— Good morning, son! — he smile. — So, any luck with your soulmate yet? If not, don’t worry. I told you, it will happen eventually and there’s no rush.

It was not the interaction you were expecting, and when the man noticed your eyes wide open in surprise and the cheeks getting red, he just knew.

— You’re not Ace, are you? — he asked, you shook your head as a “no”. He didn’t seem angry, he seemed quite curious. — Then tell me more about yourself, let’s find a way for you two to switch back soon.

You said you were part of the Revolutionary Army, the island you were before you woke up in Ace’s body, and also that by now, your friends would be on their way to the next mission.

While the Moby Dick rushed trying to find the RA ship, you had the opportunity to talk to Whitebeard and his crew. The men were very curious, asking questions about your life, how you looked like, and then started telling everything about Ace. The crew told you how your soulmate fell asleep out of the blue, how he ate a lot, was very kind, hot headed with no pun intended, and little things they knew about his life. Some of the men said you were very lucky to have him as your other half.

It was the middle of the night when you spotted the ship docked at the same island. As you got closer, you were able to see three people talking.

— There! They’re still there! — you said excitedly, not just so you could switch back to your body, but also because you couldn’t wait to finally meet your soulmate.

When the Moby Dick docked, you ran towards the ship as fast as you could.

— I told you I'm not saying my name, I don’t even know who you are. — you heard a familiar voice say. — I’ll call Dragon and see what he can do about it. What a bad timing for (Y/N) to find their soulmate.

— I already told you, my name is Ace! — someone replied. — I need to find my crew! Look, we can stay here the whole night, but make it simple and just let’s try to solve this! I know they're with the Whitebeard Pirates!

You followed the voice, smiling.

When Sabo first laid his eyes on your, or well, on Ace, his eyes widened, jaw dropped and he went silent for what felt like ages. You, Ace and Koala got worried, and started shaking the blonde, expecting a reaction from him. What made him act so strange?

— Sabo… — you asked, holding him by his shoulder and gently shaking the man. — Are you okay? What happened?

— It’s you… It’s Ace. You’re Ace. — he said, not even blinking while looking at you, and feeling the teardrops fall down his cheeks. — I remember now. I remember everything! You’re my brother!

You looked at the raven haired boy, who seemed to be just as surprised, while you just wanted to know what is going on. Sabo had a brother and never told you about him?

— Wait, your name is Sabo? My brother Sabo? — he bit his lip to avoid crying, approaching the blonde. — You’re… You’re Alive!

They hugged each other so tight and let the tears fall. It felt like nothing around them existed. You and Koala just heard the sobs, not knowing what was happening, but you didn’t have the heart to interrupt this moment. It probably meant something very important to them.

— Luffy and I, we thought you were dead. — Ace said, trying to breathe between the sobs. — I can’t believe you’re alive.

— I forgot so many things for years, I didn’t remember anything from our childhood. — he took a deep breath. — But now I saw you and remembered everything.

They had this moment for a long time, crying and laughing, laughing and crying again. When they finally explained everything, it felt like a story out of some movie, and all you could say was “wow”.

— Wait, we need to switch back… — Ace said. — We need to kiss!

— Do you think this is going to work? We just met… What if… — he interrupted you.

— Don’t worry, we can try anyway. And if it doesn’t work, we just try again as many times we need.

You looked at Sabo and Koala, who were standing looking at both of you, also curious if this was going to work or not.

— Oh, okay. — the blonde broke the silence, starting to walk to get in the ship. — We’ll leave you two alone. See you guys later.

When you and Ace were finally alone, you two moved closer, just looking at each other for a while, feeling his breath so close. Your hands were cold, your heart was beating fast and your mouth was getting dry. Before you could think much, he stole the kiss, softly and gently at first as if he was simply asking for permission, but then it became so intense and passionate. It felt like the man wanted to hold you so tight and savor every second of it, afraid it was just a dream.

— I spent so many years of my life feeling like I wasn’t worth of love, so it wasn’t hard to fall for you. — he whispered. — You’re my soulmate, I guess I loved you before we even met.

[timefospookies]

Liu and sully hc?

Yes indeed B)

Also general disclaimer!! I do not have DID nor am an expert in it! I have made sure to do research but if there are inaccuracies please let me know and correct me. I want to steer clear of any misinformation so I appreciate feedback and criticism!/srs/nm

Tw mentions of religious trauma and violence

———————————————————————

Liu Woods (he/him)

- Born in 1997 (currently 25 and ages with the body)

- Very soft-spoken, usually does not raise his voice

- His adoptive mother gave him his scarf for his 17th birthday

- He feels safe with it on :]

- He almost never takes it off unless it’s to wash it

- He’s lactose intolerant </3

- Liu likes solving puzzles to relax :]

- Not only like uhh regular puzzles but like cracking codes and stuff

- He took up gardening when he started living with EJ!!

- Also has a cool rock collection (which is actually EJ’s but Liu contributes to it a lot)

- He loves to read, especially mystery and fantasy novels

- He wanted to be a writer when he was little and does write in his free time but works full time as a detective!!

- He’s not necessarily after Jeff, but he does want to bring him to justice for all the pain he’s caused not just for him, but for all the other people he killed

- Catching his brother once and for all would grant him a sense of peace, and closure

- Despite wanting this, there are times he misses his brother, or at least the person he used to be

- Workaholic </3

- Liu has pretty severe anxiety and developed DID when he was 5

- He experienced religious trauma in a physically abusive household

- Was constantly told he deserved to go to hell and got beaten “to cleanse him of sin”

- He’s got terribly low self esteem as a result of his childhood

- When he’s stressed or overstimulated, he tends to get intense flashbacks

- Especially about the Jeff incident

- When this happen, he gets nightmares about it too

- He’s been going to therapy about all of this for about a year and a half though, and it truly does help him!

- Drinks a lottttt of coffee

- LISTENS TO ARCADE FIRE, MOTHER MOTHER AND CAVETOWN I DONT MAKE THE RULES

- Hates bugs like he is so freaked out by them 😭

Liu: “I would so much rather burn in hell than be in the same room as a cicada”

Nina: “But they’re totally harmless little guys :<”

Liu: “Little guys?2??1! I- [proceeds to go on rant about how gross bugs are]”

- Hates spiders too-

- He’s gay but had trouble accepting it when he was younger

- He’s more comfortable with his identity now that he’s surrounded by people who genuinely care about and support him (EJ, Jane, Nina :])

- He went a long time without acknowledging Sully or his other headmates

- He’s the host of a system of 4!! They’ve got a caretaker, a little who’s a trauma holder, and of course Sully

- Currently they’re all on good terms, being able to communicate a lot more and over all function well together

- They experience amnesia when under a lot of stress, but usually have a level of co-consciousness

———————————————————————

Sully (he/him)

- Formed when the body was 5

- Protector

- Age slides between 7 and 10

- Likes coding and has a little side project making an RPG game :]

- He likes making games but he lets Liu do all the story writing lol

- He doesn’t like crowed places, and prefers being alone :]

- Curses sometimes, but in the way a little kid would curse cuz they just learned the word and think it makes them sound cool

- Usually ends up feeling guilty about it BSJAJ

- Does not like being touched!

- Played Omori. Cried.

- His favorite character from Security Breach would so be Gregory LMAOO

- Really likes bugs :]

- Can name you every bug ever and identify any insect that crosses his path

- Very very arachnophobic though

- Before the incident, him and Jeff used to find bugs and build little habitats for them

- He likes cats!!! And rabbits and birds!!

- He does not enjoy killing people actually.

- He can be mean but would never hurt someone outside of self defense

- Him and Liu didn’t get along for a while, especially after the incident

- Liu was in denial and Sully was intent on finding Jeff

- He wasn’t sure what he was gonna do once he found him

- The truth is that Sully cared for Jeff just as much as Liu, and while he threaten to kill him he…couldn’t even bring himself to think about it

- Now, just like Liu, Sully wants to make sure Jeff pays for what he did and faces punishment by law

- It’s sort of a system wide goal

- Was actually the first to meet EJ and HE WAS TERRIFIED OF HIM

- Eventually he warmed up to him cuz 1) he was quiet most of the time 2) he didn’t bother him much and 3) he was helping him heal from injuries*

- *(It’s sort of a long story but uh, in short: Sully got hurt running away from the Slendermanor following a not so great encounter with Jeff there yadda yadda there was a fight yadda yadda Sully retreated and collapsed in the woods where EJ found him and took him to his cabin to heal)

- Sully likes to brag to Liu about how he was the reason him and EJ are together LMAO

Sully: “You should the thankful I got so hurt cuz otherwise you wouldn’t have met EJ! I’m such a good wingman that I didn’t even realize I was setting you up! You’re welcome!”

Liu: “…I hate you sometimes”

- He’s like a smug 10 year old

- Has trouble picking up on sarcasm

- He he feels embarrassed admitting that he loves his friends so he gifts them little bugs he makes out of clay as a token of appreciation

———————————————————————

[gusu-emilu]

miscellaneous MDZS/CQL fic recs (AO3)

broken into sections: Character Study (-esque), Wangxian, Jiang Cheng ships, Yi City (or Yi City-adjacent), Humor/Crack, and Other

Character Study (-esque)

Wei Wuxian

my eyes got used to the darkness by @curiosity-killed (M, Sunshot Campaign era, 4.4k): The funny thing, the thing that makes his lips curl in a grin and his hands shake with laughter, is that all these cultivators with their lofty principles and noble ambitions can’t even notice the ghost among them. Sure, they shiver at his presence and flinch from his cold hands, but not one of them puts it together. Lan Wangji chases him with healing music and Nie Mingjue frowns solemnly at his dancing corpses—and he laughs and laughs and laughs because they just don’t get it. Emilu's commentary: CW for mild body horror.

Jiang Cheng

in our respective ways by @veliseraptor (T, Sunshot Campaign era, 5.7k): Jiang Cheng has his golden core back. But he seems to have lost Wei Wuxian.

You Know I've Fallen, but I Know How High by villainais (M, Post-WWX's death, 2.7k): Jiang Cheng loses both of his siblings in Nightless City. Minutes apart. He trudges home to Yunmeng with one body, holds a private funeral with a single coffin, and allows himself to wear his mourning robes for ten days—permits himself not a single day more. He is still too young and inexperienced, an unfledged boy to the cultivation world, and he is rebuilding Lotus Pier on his own. He will not gift the other sect leaders the satisfaction of seeing him vulnerable. Propriety be damned. Hanguang-jun emerges from his seclusion wearing white. He does not stop.

Nie Huaisang

it deepens like a coastal shelf by @wolffyluna (M, Post-WWX's death, 21.6k): When Nie Huaisang meets Mo Xuanyu, he realises two things quickly. One, this kid is so doomed. Two, this kid would be a great unwitting spy in his plans to bring down Jin Guangyao. It would be so easy to get into Mo Xuanyu's confidences, and so easy to get him to tell him anything he needs. ...only thing is, that wouldn't be very good for Mo Xuanyu's life expectancy. But he'll do it anyway, if it helps him avenge his brother. A fic about man handing on misery to man, the parallels and cycles in the relationships between Jin Guangyao and Nie Huaisang and Mo Xuanyu, and the lengths these characters will go to meet their goals and if there are lines they won't cross.

Lan Xichen

an old man in dried mouths by @tenacious-minds (T, Post-Canon, 3.3k): Xichen thinks. The tea had always stained the crockery red. Emilu's commentary: Lan Xichen and Jin Ling talk about Jin Guangyao.

can you be a quiet man? by @basket-of-loquats (Unrated, Post-Canon, 70.7k+) But something inside him snapped at Guanyin Temple-- and Lan Wangji watched it happen, saw the exact moment that Lan Xichen went from broken to shattered, when he buried his sword into Jin Guangyao’s chest, when his sworn brother stared up at him with wide eyes, blood dripping from his mouth, when he pulled himself closer and closer and closer-- When he whispered "Why don’t you die with me?", and Lan Xichen hadn’t argued. Emilu's commentary: Lan Xichen / therapy with a side of Wangxian.

Wen Ning

breathless (but i'll pretend to breathe for you) by swordsainted (T, Burial Mounds Settlement era, 4.1k): Wei Wuxian is silent for a long minute, and then he looks at Wen Ning, something raw and open and hurting behind his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he says again, softer this time, and Wen Ning shakes his head, still smiling. “You’ve protected everyone. How could I hate you for that?”

Mo Xuanyu

stand at the pit's mouth by @eldritch-elrics (M, MXY's death, 9.3k): The dreams and regrets of a man on the edge of oblivion. Emilu's commentary: Surrealist/absurdist screenplay.

Wangxian

I would wait for a thousand years by bleuett (T, Immortality Post-Canon, 10.4k): During the worst of winter, a traveler comes to stay at Lan Wangji's inn. He wears a red ribbon in his hair. “Do you see the rabbit?” Wei Ying asks and points at the moon. “That’s the moon rabbit, he helps make Chang’e more immortality elixir. He keeps Chang’e company.” “I do not wish the rabbit for company,” Lan Wangji says tightly. “You are the one I want by my side.” “And I’m here, Lan Zhan. If you go to the moon, I’ll follow you, I’ll always be here now.” Emilu's commentary: Lan Wangji meets Wei Wuxian centuries later and does not remember the past. There is also an excellent podfic by @forgotten-envies

Look Not With The Eyes by Spodumene (G, Post-Canon, 28.1k): Wei Wuxian returns from his travels to join Lan Wangji on a routine night hunt, but when things take an unexpected turn, Wei Wuxian will have to fight for what he's really looking for. Emilu's commentary: Case fic.

All In A Good Time by bigboobedcanuck (E, Post-Canon, 8k): Lan Zhan is struck by a curse that brings him intense physical pain unless he's being touched. He is stoic and tries to hide his suffering. Wei Wuxian is worried and protective. Perhaps they will finally admit their feelings?

Across a Lake of Glass by Zizzani (E, Figure Skating AU, 92.2k+): Each year, Gusu Skating Club runs a camp for only the most elite athletes of each region. This year brings a new skater from the Yunmeng Club who wears skates lined with red and a smile made for war. He skates like a demon. Figure skating au featuring lots of healthy rivalry, pre and post-competition bonding, and an inexplicable fall from grace through the eyes of the media.

Jiang Cheng Ships

Chengqing

display my heart for you to see by @souridealist (M, Post-Canon Wen Qing Lives AU, 5.5k): Jiang Cheng has his own secrets. Some of them are part of the unburied past; some of them are about how long it's been since anyone has touched him.

while I'm in this body by @souridealist (E, Post-Lotus Pier Massacre, 3.9k): For just a few minutes, alone in her office, Wen Qing allows her self-control to slip enough to cry. It's just her luck that that's when Jiang Cheng comes looking for her. Emilu's commentary: Femdom.

Chengning

it may be that it doesn't matter by @wildehacked (T, Post-Canon, 6.6k) “Are you crying?” Jiang Wanyin asks him, and Wen Ning frowns. Pats his cheek with one hand. “No.” Emilu's commentary: Holy Grail of Chengning.

Whatever It Is by morau (E, Post-Canon, 20.5k): It starts, as with a lot of things, with a very poorly thought out prank, courtesy of Wei Wuxian. Emilu's commentary: A LOT of sex and even more emotions lol

won't run away (we're here to stay) by @qi-ling (T, Post-Canon, 3.5k): "Please don't feel any pressure to accept this, and you can take as much time as you need to think about it." It's a set of robes, in shades of deep purple, complete with leather bracers. Cut in a different style than that of the disciples or household staff, closer to the understated robes Wen Ning typically wears. He reaches out to feel the fabric. His deadened nerves can't sense delicate textures well, but even he can tell it's of a quality on par to Wanyin's own wardrobe. This is startling enough coming from Jiang Wanyin, but then Wen Ning notices the belt. In particular, the silver bell in the shape of a lotus affixed to it. Only recognized members of the Jiang sect may wear the clarity bell. Or, Jiang Cheng has an invitation for Wen Ning.

Zhancheng

By Proxy by @veliseraptor (E, Post-WWX's death, 12k): Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji, looking for comfort in all the wrong places. Emilu's commentary: Hate sex that made me cry

Yi City (or Yi City-adjacent)

Songxuexiao

Heaven Has A Road But No One Walks It by @silvysartfulness (M, Post-Yi City arc Canon Divergence, 123k+): One of the most complex spells of demonic cultivation the world has seen is brought to fruition, and Xiao Xingchen draws his first shaking breaths in over seven years. This, it turns out, is only the start of his problems. Emilu's commentary: Pretty sure everyone already knows about Silvy's happy songxuexiao road trip fic but it has to be here.

Xue Yang & Lan Xichen

Hours On Empty series by @lady-of-the-lotus (M to E, Post-Canon, 57.8k+): AU where Wei Wuxian never came to Yi City and Xue Yang is still running around post-canon disguised as Xiao Xingchen. "Fractured Ice" - Xue Yang whisks a nihilistic Lan Xichen off on a murder roadtrip to raise Xiao Xingchen and Meng Yao from the grave. Because that will solve all of their problems, right? "Control" - "Fractured Ice" retold from Xue Yang's pov. "A Thousand Miles In Its Light" - Alternate ending to "Fractured Ice" and "Control"

Songxiao with Xuexiao Flashbacks

Nothing Beside Remains by @eldritch-elrics (T, Post-Yi City arc Canon Divergence, 21.9k): And Xiao Xingchen is dressed in dark clothing that is not his, and his sight is all of a sudden sharp in a way that it has never been before, and Xue Yang is not here. “He wouldn’t,” he breathes. “No, he wouldn’t do that. He’s too—” “He’s too what?” Wei Wuxian steps a foot closer, face hard-set. “Too cruel? Or too kind?” Or: Xue Yang uses the Sacrifice Summon on Xiao Xingchen. Xiao Xingchen lives with the consequences.

Humor/Crack

The Hangover: A pre-wedding Dramedy series by natcat5 (M, Modern AU, 51.6k): It is not a bachelor party. That was made clear on all the invitations. It is a congratulatory get together for Jin Zixuan, attended by his family, the family of the bride, and the young masters of the other two families in their circle. The gathering is not to go later than midnight, everyone must drink in moderation, and no one is allowed to be hungover tomorrow. Wei Wuxian had promised Yanli, three fingers in the air. Jiang Cheng had rolled his eyes, but promised as well. Saturday morning, Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng wake up alone in a hotel room, missing shoes, phones, and almost all their memories of what in the world happened last night. Also missing: Wei Wuxian, brother of the bride, Lan Wangji, esteemed guest, Lan Xichen, esteemed guest, Jin Zixun, cousin of the groom, Jin Guangyao, brother and best-man, Jin Zixuan, THE GROOM, who is due at his bride-to-be's house in six hours. That's plenty of time to find everyone...right?

Jiang Cheng Loves Jar Jar Bombad Mui by @lady-of-the-lotus (G, Post-Canon, 1.7k) Jar Jar Binks washes up on the shores of Lotus Pier. Can he win the lonely Jiang Cheng's proud heart? Neb neb answer is yesa. Emilu's commentary: There's also a podfic by @aowyn. Yes, with a Jar Jar voice.

Other

Nie Huaisang & Wen Ning

By Name by nirejseki (G, Post-Canon, 1.3k): After the traumatic events in the now-collapsed temple, Wen Ning lingered behind and unexpectedly saw Nie Huaisang, the undisputed victor of an all-around terrible evening, sitting on the steps of the temple, looking exhausted and miserable, as if he’d won nothing at all. Wen Ning found himself drifting over to him.

Jiang Yanli & Nie Mingjue

utility by magicites (G, Arranged Marriage AU, 2.3k): Jiang Yanli and Nie Mingjue's wedding is a political one — a gesture of unity between their Sects. A way for her parents to finally get some use out of the plain-faced sham of a cultivator they call a daughter. “Jiang-guniang,” Nie Mingjue says, and the formality in such a setting as intimate as their wedding chambers startles her, “I don’t wish to bed you. Or any other woman, for that matter. It isn’t fair for you to live alone because of my own preferences.” She rests her hand on his arm, cool relief flooding her body like water on a summer afternoon. “If it helps, I don’t feel desire for men,” she whispers.

Jin Guangyao / Nie Huaisang

Pulling Strings by @eldritch-elrics (E, Post-WWX's death, 5k): Nie Huaisang, quite drunk, turns up at Jin Guangyao’s door one night with an unexpected request. Emilu's commentary: Nie Huaisang knows Jin Guangyao killed Nie Mingjue. This interaction is more symbolic than anything else...

[phantomphangphucker]

Phic Phight - I Tried But Not In Time

For: @ave-aria

Lancer just wanted to help, but sometimes being ‘helpful’ just gets people killed. Especially when there are already dead, or half-dead, people involved.

Lancer considered himself a decent man, a good teacher, and an overall respectable member of society. He did his part, paid his taxes, and helped the next generations thrive. In many ways he did more for society and humanity than most did, even if he hardly got the pay or recognition he likely deserved. But he didn’t really care about those things, the children were what he cared about; their future and their happiness. It saddened him when there were some kids he couldn’t help and gutted him when there were others he merely failed to help.

Daniel wasn’t one he couldn’t help and he refused to let the boy be one he failed. Not this one. Not the boy once so filled with life and a positive bright future; even if it was a bit over-ambitious. Not the brother to the most brilliant child he’s ever meet. Not the son of the people that, while strange, helped defend this town. Not someone who could do well and thrive but wasn’t, not through any fault of their own intellect or the school structure or home life, but simply a lack of effort and drive. A bit of missing commitment.

Lancer gave him a bit of a pass -maybe he shouldn’t have- after that accident of his for the first while that school year; it was perfectly reasonable to be a bit lazy while recovering from any sort of accident, good even. But the boy merely got worse, not better. At first he suspected that his parents were going easier on him due to guilt -it was their invention that hurt him after all- and were thus slacking in the discipline department. So he had tried disciplining the boy, not only had that proven entirely ineffective but somehow also practically impossible to do. No amount of locked doors kept him in detention or his office. No amount of grabbing his arm to drag him to classes would stop him from literally slipping through his fingers. Verbal scolding didn’t even seem to do more than make him embarrassed or nervous; he’d sit and take it but nothing would change.

What really caught Lancer was spotting one of the many many times -he’s sure it’s extremely often- Dashiel had pinned Daniel to a locker by the shirt, holding him above the ground by a solid foot. Lancer was going to intervene, knowing full well Dashiel would deny anything was wrong and would act ‘all buddy buddy’ with Daniel, but he’d noticed Daniel’s hand on Dashiel’s wrist, the other hand curled into a fist. Daniel actively wanted to punch the other teen. But... he didn’t. He restrained himself. Practiced good self-control. Self-discipline perhaps. So maybe discipline wasn’t the issue.

So he took a different route. He tried very literally sitting down and watching Daniel closely, giving him one on one help with his work and... it helped! The teen did fairly well immediately! Lancer thought that this little success would be enough to restart Daniel’s drive and willingness to put in the work, the effort; since that seemed to really be all he actually needed to do.

But it wasn’t to be.

That sort of success only ever repeated itself when Lancer sat Daniel down and helped him one on one. If it wasn’t for the teen lacking all other signs he would have suspected some kind of learning disability, caused by the accident perhaps, but he was otherwise normal if a bit paranoid. And Lancer certainly wasn’t revisiting that attempting to send the teen into therapy event again, that had made things actively worse and Lancer doesn’t exactly... trust therapists these days.

Then the frequent growing tardies and skipping entirely made him think that maybe Daniel really truly didn’t care unless he was very literally forced to.

And now... now there were the C.A.T’s coming up and Lancer was out of time to help the teen. This was entirely in Daniel’s hands and maybe Jasmine’s a little as well, he doesn’t doubt she’ll help him with studying. Maybe she’ll even sit him down and make him study? Sadly though, if she hasn’t done that yet he doubts she ever really will. Unfortunate, truly unfortunate.

But then... the answer sheet went missing and Lancer could think of one, and only one, student who could seemingly slip through solid objects and move as if invisible: Daniel. And Lancer is perfectly well aware that Daniel wasn’t the most... law-abiding individual and was absolutely not above cheating, theft, or trickery. Lancer usually let that slide because Dashiel truly deserved it and he’s pretty sure that one time the teen locked him in a closet was a fluke; he thinks the teen's eyes might have been red actually...

But stealing test answers was absolutely unacceptable.

“But Mr. Lancer, you still have no proof Danny took the test answers“.

Judging by the way she cringed, Lancer’s fairly certain he’s right. Regardless, he technically doesn’t have real physical on-camera proof, “fair enough. He has up until the test to return the answers. But if he cheats, I won't just fail him. I'll destroy his future”. Lancer nods to himself, that was probably overdramatic but he was a drama kid and the cheer squad was for life. Jasmine, as expected, takes him seriously and gulps before nodding curtly while walking off likely to go find her unusual brother.

Lancer is perfectly fine letting Daniel retake the test -a makeup one with different answers of course and far enough away he has time to study, without feeling the need to commit a felony just to pass; which seemed incredibly extreme to Lancer- if Daniel simply gives him back the answer sheet. Frankenstein’s Bride! The boy could give them back halfway through the test and that would be good enough; Lancer would be far less impressed with that though. Will he be proud if Daniel gives over the answers beforehand? Yes, of course. Even Lancer knows how much harder it can be to own up to our mistakes and make things right than it is to make the mistakes in the first place. He’d still be in trouble for stealing them of course, with a punishment of lots and lots of one on one intensive study sessions.

But what Lancer hadn’t expected, upon walking back into his classroom, is for there to be a well-dress but old-fashion-looking man leaning against his desk; seemingly polishing some kind of staff. Lancer quirks an eyebrow as he speaks, “hello?”.

The man doesn’t so much as look up from the staff, turning a nob at the top with some clicking noises, “William Edward Lancer, you are a man of simple paradoxes and ironies”.

Lancer stays exactly where he is, hand on the doorknob, oddly he doesn’t feel safe. In fact, he feels like he is explicitly in danger and being actively judged for his worth. “Pardon?”.

The man still doesn’t look to him, but at least he stops tinkering with the staff, placing the base on the ground and standing straight, “you seek to educate the youth, yet cripple them with stress from excessive testing. You turn a blind eye to encourage strength of self, yet that only makes the weak meeker. You try to inspire, yet are so out of touch you discourage instead. Your goal is to make for a bright thriving future for every child you can, and yet... you’ve become a gear cog in the educational machine that is the catalyst for most of their premature deaths”.

Lancer decidedly does not like where this is going and takes a step back, only for the man to seemingly disappear into thin air and for Lancer to bump up against something or someone behind him. Spinning around and staggering backwards into the classroom at seeing that the man is now behind him and staring at him with apathetic judgmental crimson eyes. This man... was a ghost. But nothing like what Lancer’s seen before, he’s sure. Gulping, Lancer grabs the first thing he can -a stapler- and holds it up like a weapon, “what do you want”. He always impressed himself with how not terrified he can make himself sound when faced with a ghostly threat.

The ghost frowns slightly, “from you? Nothing. From Daniel? Plenty. And as much as you are a cog in the educational system, you are also a cog in Daniel’s existence; and so far, not a very good one”.

Lancer’s not sure what to make of that except... “you, ghost, whatever you want with my student, you leave him alone”, swallowing, “and I help him were I can, where’s the fault in that”; he’s not sure why he feels the need to defend himself but he does.

“Explanations? Very well. The fault is in that you push him towards that which is no longer in the universes cards for him. Adding stress and crisis unnecessarily. When all is said and done, some people would be better helped left alone. Would be better to seemingly fail in the eyes of larger mortal society”.

Lancer has to cut in, “I don’t believe that. Every student and child can be great if given help, guidance, and education”; that was the philosophy of any teacher worth their salt.

The ghost actually almost seems to chuckle and smirks faintly, “make no mistake, Daniel has every possibility to be quite great. Or more so, it is something in the potential of the future; a future that, due to your intended future actions, will not come to pass”. Lancer gets that explicitly ominous ‘I’m in danger’ feeling again and tightens his grip on the stapler while the ghost continues though sounding far more malicious, “so as such, the best option is for the problem, for you, to be eliminated”, and brandishes a very large scythe.

Now Lancer knows he is absolutely in danger; he had never imagined he’d be the specific target of any ghost or ghost attack in general. But the best option currently is to RUN! Which, with his weight, is not an option he’s all to confident in. That, and the ghost’s blocking the doors. Said ghost shakes his head in mild disappointment before swinging with the scythe, Lancer barely manages to move to side and lands on the floor with a thud while the scythe slices a desk clean in half. Lancer scrambles on the floor wide-eyed, this ghost really meant to kill him!

Doing what he always does Lancer tries to think quick and grab for anything that might help him -a stapler was doing nothing against a scythe and that’s a fact- lunging for the ghosts staff thinking that maybe the ghost would value that enough to avoid damaging it. He’s not going to claim to know why the ghost left it to the side. Glancing back, Lancer has just a slight feeling that the ghost is smiling? as he grabs the staff. Lancer realises far too late, as the staff makes a clicking noise and a portal begins to swirl open around the top, that maybe this was the ghosts plan all along.

The portal swallows him whole in an instant. The ghost hums to themselves, thins their lips, and nods slightly; disappearing from sight with the swirl of clock-hands.

---

Lancer lands in the dirt practically face first, scrambling to get up and away from the staff. Craning his head around and wincing before cracking out his back, one too many hours spent bent over a desk; the things he gives for those kids. At least the ghost is nowhere in sight but something’s not right, the wall of the alleyway he’s apparently in looks far more weathered and beaten down than the city would allow; had to keep things looking good to avoid the wrath of the rich citizens. Putting his hand to the wall and bits of it crumble off, Lancer gets the distinct feeling the entire wall would crumble to dust with one solid push. He doesn’t like this, it feels too much like he’s in the middle of a serious ghost battle; the lemon/lime stench of ectoplasm in the air doesn’t help.

He’s unsure what to do at this time, stay put and wait for the first responders to start yelling that it’s safe and to come out? or risk going out himself? Both options left him at risk of a violent ghost, like the one just previously after him.

But what he doesn’t get about that is what in the name of Shakespeare did that ghost mean?!? When Lancer threatened Jasmine with ruining Daniel’s entire future that was not meant literally! So why had that ghost seemingly acted as if it was literal? And better yet, what did that ghost seem to want with Daniel?

Yes Lancer was well aware of the Fenton family business, who wasn’t?, and that his parents very likely had plans for him to take over the business one day, but as far as Lancer knew Daniel had little to no interest in that. Maybe Daniel was more involved with ghosts than he knew? Or maybe the Fenton parents' intentions to have him inherit the business was exactly why a ghost was interested in Daniel. Sabotaging or influencing a future important hunter would be something that ghosts would consider doing, even if said future hunter had zero interest in being a hunter. Shaking his head, all this think is getting him nowhere, he needs to decide his actions now.

Swallowing, well he was a man of risks, both calculated and sudden. And it has been a bit.. Gulping Lancer lifts a foot to move to step out before pausing and glancing back to the staff, it sitting innocently on the ground. What would happen if someone else stumbled upon that? Nothing good he imagines. Nodding to himself before gathering it up gingerly and returning to taking a cautious step out of the alley way; at the very least he can use the staff as a beating implement or a spear even.

But stepping out is like exiting an empty silent movie theatre into a crowded mall, like time itself had been stopped until he made up his mind to step forward. The scene that greets him is like an active war zone, people are running around without paying attention to where they’re going, there’s screaming, something is cackling with a heavy echo in the distance, an entire building starts collapsing; Lancer doesn’t know where to look or what to do so he just... stands there, frozen in spot.

At least until he sees what brought down the building, or more so who, a crumbled body flopping and skidding across the ground surrounded by rubble. At first all he can make out is the red suit, The Red Huntress, that’s enough to get him running; running off towards the downed Huntress. but when he gets close... he sees the dark skin, the shaved military hair cut, and the determined expression even with blood rapidly pooling around her head.

“Valerie!”. Lancer immediately kneels next to her, putting fingers to neck and grimaces over the lack of a pulse.

No ones ever died before. But... Lancer was trained to deal with death, in the case of a parent or Shakespeare forgive a student dying. So maybe he’s a little more calm than he should be but, no, never from a ghost attack. People might get hurt sure, but they don’t die! And this barely makes sense! Valerie looked to be in her late twenties. He scoops her up anyways, he is not just leaving her; gripping the staff tightly as he runs, panting heavily.

He sets her off near a more sturdy-looking building, there really was nothing he could do. Him slumping against the wall and crouching, “Chicken Soup For The Soul, what is going on here”, glancing at Valerie, “is this what the ghost meant by ‘cause of their death’?”, shaking his head and glancing to the staff, staring at the top, at the clock, the thing the ghost had been fiddling with. Was... was this a time-travelling device??? One way to find out... Lancer pokes at the nob on top, finding that won’t budge, then prodding the clock hands which move. Gulping, he pushes the hour hand backwards slowly and watches as the world around him reverses. Valerie seemingly glides along the ground and back through the building, the building puts itself back together, people run backwards; it’s a lot to take in.

Lancer pulls his hand away from the staff clock face, backs away from the people, slipping back into the alleyway and breathing out heavily. Glancing to the staff, “it is a time travel device”, he’s not sure whether to be in awe or completely horrified. Because that meant this was the future, he doesn’t want this to be that. Not by a mile. He flinches from the sound of a building collapsing, now knowing exactly what was happening out there.

Sliding down the wall and running a hand over his balding hair, he wants to go back, but what was the point of going back? His job was to prepare people for the future, prepare children for the future; but no one could be prepared for whatever this was. It was like something out of an apocalypse drama! The sound of another building going down sounds like definite emphasis. A sudden voice startles him, “that is indeed what it is”. Lancer snapping his head to the side and jolting upright, knees protesting; it’s the scythe-wielding ghost again... minus the scythe. And he looks like a proper ghost now, blue-skinned, cloaked, and sporting a ghostly tail.

Lancer narrows his eyes, more certain now that this ghost let him take the staff intentionally, “why?”.

The ghost almost seems to chuckle, “why not? A lesson taught in shock value sticks far better than any lesson plan, but I shouldn’t have to tell a human that. Now of course that isn’t the real question, now is it. No, the real one is why you”, the ghost floats a little closer, “why now”, and closer, “why here”, the ghost gets slightly closer and gestures with an arm, small screens appearing from thin air showing destruction taking place all around the globe, “and yet it’s not just here”; Lancer lets the ghost pretty well get up into his face, his back pressed up against the wall and shaking slightly. But where else is he going to go? Into the streets filled with suffering? He’ll take his chances here... and maybe this ghost had a point, not all ghosts were evil after all. Phantom proved that.

But as if on cue, a larger sneering ghost lands on the wall across the alleyway, cackling loudly and looking a lot like an older Phantom. But while Phantom felt safe, childish and goofy even, this ghost feels like death has arrived and is knocking down his front door with a battering ram. This ghost feels like terror and suffering without even looking at him; and looking felt like his god had come and he wanted nothing but his absolute obliteration. When Lancer jerked his head to take that unpleasant look to the side at the Phantom-like ghost, the strange ghost reaches out and taps the staff before yanking it away. Lancer snapping his head back to that ghost just as a purple portal opens up under his feet and he falls down. He’s almost glad purely because it’ll get him away from the Phantom-like ghost, away from death and torture come knocking.

If he stayed in this time, that time, nothing but brutal pain would await him.

-

Lancer staggers but manages to stay on his feet when he lands on the ground this time, putting a hand against what feels like wall to steady himself further; shivering still and glancing around cautiously. It looks as if he’s back in normal Amity but his gut’s doing flip-flops and, in the name of Dracula, he is trusting his gut. Especially after just having had run-ins with two of the only ghosts he’s ever felt truly and genuinely deeply afraid of. The only times he’s felt like something dead, something that was death itself, had set its eyes on him. His paranoia right now is cranked up to eleven.

Even so he still doesn’t expect the sudden explosion seeming to come from the building he’s directly behind that shakes the ground violently and blows out his eardrums, clapping his hands over his ears and wincing. He still walks cautiously to make his way around the building, coughing on the smoke as he goes; only to come face to face with bits and pieces of flesh and clothing.

Including clothing that looked disturbingly familiar to what was in his own closet. The breath he sucks in nearly makes him choke; from smoke and shock alike.

But looking up, there on the road, there’s Daniel kneeling on the ground with an outstretched hand looking stunned and red-eyed. And looking back down, Lancer understands, he gets it.

The bits of red hair.

The chunks of blue and orange spandex.

Half a dark-coloured beret.

The pair of almost jarringly intact faux leather combat boots.

The clothes that look so much like his own.

And the piece of the Nasty Burger sign impeded into the ground.

If Daniel never returned the test... this place, the Nasty Burger, was were he intended to take him and his parents; his sister of course would have came.... his friends too. They were there for him through thick and thin, even if that thick was cheating or expulsion or jail time or just a slap on the wrist. To Kill A Mocking Bird, they’d come faster and more determined than the boy’s own parents would.

There was something deeply wrong with that. Wasn’t there.

The sound of sirens overtaking the ringing in his ears gets him to look back up, back to Daniel who hasn’t so much as moved yet, his face is wet with tears. Lancer can’t do anything but watch the paramedics get to him, shake him and check him, try to ask him questions. He can’t do anything because... because he’s realised that this was what that ghost really meant. This was his own doing.

He brought Daniel and them all here in his vain self-indulgent desire to help the teen with what he thought were normal issues that just needed correction.

He brought them here and they all died because of it.

All of them but one.

And Lancer doesn’t have that staff to turn back the tides of time this time. He wishes he did because he doesn’t want, almost can’t bare, to watch Daniel be checked again and again. Watch the boy push them off when he remembers himself enough and refuses to let them take him away with surprising strength. Watches as Vladimir Masters, one of the richest men in the world, arrived seemingly out of nowhere and places a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

The amount of pure hatred filling Daniel’s eyes makes Lancer unable to doubt for even a second that Vladimir has something to do with this. But the green that flares up in those eyes is what finally makes Lancer move, jerk a step backwards. Yet still watching as Vladimir subtly jabs Daniel with something and the teen goes limp; the man telling the paramedics that he’ll handle this, that he can look after the boy himself, that he’s family. At first they protest but, with red flashing in their eyes, they agree.

And then... everything stops as if it’s a photo rather than real life. Even the puffs of smoke and steam are still.

“For a mortal to be faced with their own death, it is a grounding thing, is it not”.

Lancer doesn’t bother turning around, watching Daniel’s limp frozen form instead, “that’s not it”.

“Ah then perhaps it is Daniel, the one left behind, the forgotten child to fall between the cracks. The one the system, your system, failed”.

Lancer swallows and shakes his head weakly, but he doesn’t deny it because it’s not a lie. Lancer knows in his gut that wherever Vladimir is taking Daniel he won’t come back from.

Daniel was going to die.

And Lancer helped ensure that.

Because he did what he was supposed to do. He tried to help and he did, in some ways. But he missed something, missed a malicious presence, so entirely, so completely, that it didn’t matter; that it did the opposite of help.

Lancer glances to the side as the ghost, now appearing to look like a small buck-toothed child, floats near his shoulder, “there are times that you, as a mortal, must realise when you are at your limit. When something is simply outside of your reach. When someone is. And you must let go. If you do not...”, they tilt the staff just slightly and Lancer is transported with them to a place that looks like a lab. Lancer’s stomach drops.

Daniel is strapped down and thrashing against the restraints on a table.

Vladimir forcing a gas mask onto his face and slowly... that struggling dies.

Clawed gauntlets are wielded and Lancer can only watch as Daniel gets impaled by them and thrashes even though he’s unconscious.

Phantom is torn from him like something out of a nightmare and he lunges at Vladimir full of rage and wrath. Lancer’s never seen anything like this from the ghost, rage and hatred. The desire to hurt. He sees now how Phantom could have grown to become the other version he saw. This was how he was tainted.

Phantom, in his rage, tears a ghost out of Vladimir and devours him piece by ectoplasm splattered piece. The teen ghost has completely lost it.

Daniel has slipped off the table and woken up, has tried crawling off to the corner. It does him no good as Phantom sets his sights on Daniel.

Lancer collapses down to his knees and nearly vomits when Phantom violently tears out Daniel’s stomach, tossing intestines and organs across the room before tearing Daniel’s throat out with his teeth. He’d never imagined even ghosts to be capable of such cruelty. A bout of insanity, surely, that the hero wouldn’t come back from.

This wasn’t just Daniel’s death, but the fall of a hero too. Where they one and the same? Lancer isn’t going to claim to know, not after today.

The strange ghost speaks up again as Lancer stares down at the blood pooling on the ground and slowly creeping towards his knees. “Someday I will teach that boy, and I will teach him well. So, I want to make a deal”, the ghost leans over his shoulder near his face, all Lancer can do is side-eye them as the ghost continues, “he will live, mostly. He will thrive, in a way. But he will amount to absolutely nothing in your mortal society. In fact, he will amount to less than that, another failed statistic. And you, you will let him. He will misbehave, and you will wave it off. He will skip and miss classes, and you will let it go. He will do everything worthy of expulsion, and you will act as if no wrong has been done. You are but a bump in the road of his existence and you will act like it, and you may become his favourite adult because of that fact alone. People often appreciate the simple things in life, do they not. So be a simple thing. Deal?”.

Lancer swallows, “and everyone will be alright”. He doesn’t really have a choice here, does he?

“But of course”. The ghost sounds sickly sweet.

Lancer doesn’t know what he’s agreeing to or what he may be condemning Daniel to, but he nods weakly anyway; anything would be better than this after all.

“Much appreciated. Truly. He’ll make for a very satisfying-”.

Lancer jerks, spinning around, suddenly back in his classroom, an open empty briefcase sitting on his desk. He does hear the end of the ghosts statement though...

“-god”.

Lancer stares forwards for a bit before shaking his head violently and slumping down into his desk chair. Eyeing the briefcase warily, moving his hand and closing the lid with a soft click. Closing the lid on this day. Closing the lid on a teenager's future. Closing the lid on Daniel.

There’s something’s he’s better off not knowing. And some people better off left unhelped. The book of Daniel Fenton’s life is staying firmly unread. ‘God’ that ghost had said...

Glancing to the wall clock, it’s about that time that he talked to Jasmine, before whatever exactly that ghost was that messed with everything. But this time... Lancer’s staying right here. He’s not moving from this chair, he’s not reopening that briefcase, and he’s not talking to anyone.

He’s... not going to ignore Daniel but he is not even going to consider interfering with him and whatever The Great Gatsby was going on with the teen. He’s also going to run away if he ever even glimpses that cloaked staff-wielding ghost again. Very far away.

Daniel looks shocky and shaky the next day, but at least he and everyone else is alive. And Lancer’s going to have to live with his decisions and actions, or lack thereof.  

End.

Prompt: Lancer + Time Travel

[goddess-aelin]

OK let me just word vomit all of my thoughts about A Court of Silver Flames right here.

Overall, I LOVED IT! Say what you want but Sarah J Maas is a fantastic writer and storyteller. She is great with world building and most of the plot is centered around the characters, their feelings, and their relationships with each other.

On Nesta: listen, I get that she did some shitty stuff. Like VERY shitty stuff. Does this make her evil or inherently bad? Nah. She went through a lot of traumatic stuff and was groomed literally from childhood by her mother to be this cold, aloof person. This book was about her finding her way in life away from all of that, forging her own path and finding out who she really is. Most of all, it was about her healing. I related so heavily to Nesta throughout this whole book. I would really like to say that the sister I’m most like is Feyre because she’s an angel but in all honesty, I’m probably most like Nesta. If it’s hard for you to show your emotions (because of trauma, childhood, or whatever) you will know that sometimes you act out in ways you might not want to. It obviously doesn’t excuse shitty actions but it also doesn’t make you an inherently bad person. If you can’t relate to being in a dark place and lashing out, just wanting people to get away from you because you either can’t take the attention or feel like you don’t deserve any kindness, then I’m so happy for you. Because that place sucks. I honestly cried so many times throughout the book because what Nesta was feeling was what I had been feeling at points in my life. Thankfully, I had therapy and meds to help my anxiety and depression and work through traumas, but obviously Nesta didn’t have that. The points in which Nesta felt one thing and lashed out and said another were happening to me on a regular basis. I felt so shitty prior and saying those things, even if I apologized, made me feel SO much shittier. Coming out of that cycle of hatred of yourself is so difficult and her journey was so real and intense. So thank you, Sarah, for writing this. Most cathartic scene was where Nesta was dancing at the court of nightmares, feeling alive again. It’s exactly how I felt when I got back into my art and realized how much I was missing. 

*note: I also see a lot of people complaining about Nesta not apologizing to Feyre. While I am the biggest Feyre fan, I also understand that this was a portion of the story. Nesta only just started to be in a good place in the last few pages of the book. I didn’t really expect a full resolution, especially with so much going on. Would I have loved an extra 200 pages of resolution? Of course!

On Cassian: I’ve seen so many people say that this book made Cassian seem like he was just a dumb guy who can only think about getting laid. I didn’t see that at all? Obviously there were a lot of smut scenes (I was sweating whew). Idk if some people can’t read between the lines but he literally knew Nesta was his mate almost the whole time and if this was the only way she’d let him have her, then he was willing to be ok with that. I felt like this book brought out a really nice, softer and nurturing side of Cassian. (Is he my new husband? Yes, yes he is) Also NESSIAN SUPREMACY. Am I as obsessed as I am with Feysand? Probably not but I’m definitely close to that point. We love a warrior couple who is soft for each other. Literally how does SJM write these perfect couples? She’s ruined any relationship for me unless it’s with a sexy strong illyrian male. 

*Sigh* on the Azriel/Elain/Gwyn/Lucien situation: I want to say that I have no strong opinion on this situation and would honestly be ok with whatever happens. Mostly because I trust that Sarah knows what she’s doing and she hasn’t let me down yet (even if she has ripped my heart out multiple times). Would it be cool to see a deviation from the mates? I mean, I guess. I’m kinda a sucker for there being that person out there for you so I don’t hate this trope? I do lean more towards Gwynriel and Elucien because of this. This is not to say that Lucien is entitled to Elain because obviously he’s not. I do see more potential though in Gwynriel because of both of their histories. I will say that before ACOSF, I shipped e/lriel but I did a little switcheroo after I met Gwyn. I think she’s the perfect compliment to Az and would be a really cute dynamic. Maybe she’d help his self loathing, they could help each other heal from the trauma? Possibilities are endless, really. I do think a few things point to Gwynriel, though. One, Elain is described as not being suited for the night court or the color black. Not necessarily a deal breaker but interesting that the author put that in there. Perhaps she would be more suited towards the Spring court or Day court *side eyes Lucien and daddy Helion*? Two, without taking the extra Az chapter into account, I think the Gwyn/Az dynamic is so good. They are building to be equals and compliments of each other. Three, taking the Az chapter into account, while he and Elain have chemistry, I don’t see the give and take that Gwyn has with him. Not saying he doesn’t care or that it’s superficial because I don’t agree with either of those statements. That Az chapter did seem it was a push towards Gwyn though, not Elain. Someone also pointed out that Az hides his hand scars from literally almost everyone as if he’s ashamed. But he’s never done that from Gwyn. Lastly, I also think Az deserves his own mate. He wants that so badly now that his brothers have mates and I just think being with someone who will always have that bond with someone else (even if they don’t want it) is doing him a bit of a disservice. But who knows what will happen! I will reiterate that I trust Sarah fully and she has not led me astray. So whatever happens, I know it will be good and satisfying. 

The single part I did not like was the fact that somehow Gwyn/Emerie/Nesta could take out 6+ fully grown and trained warriors with only 5-6 months of daily training... especially when it took Cassian 7 years to wield a sword... I just keep telling myself it’s because Cassian and Azriel are such great teachers. 

Anyway, if you were debating reading it because you heard some not great things like I did, I hope this helps to sway you. Because it was a fantastic, entertaining book and I 100% enjoyed every second of it.

[pluviophile-imagines]

Could I ask what your sexuality headcanons are? I love comparing mine with other peoples’!

Ok second half of this; this is just like. non-students who i Actually have thought about HJBAFV not at all a comprehensive list. Again disclaimer i write all these chars as bi in my fics, also i am bi myself so the vast majority are also bi, and also leaving a lot of these vague so u can imagine ur favorite ship or urself or w/ever

ok lets start this off with Aizawa. I think....... hes another one who's rlly unlabelled, doesnt super care to think it through and define it, but calls himself gay bc his interest in women is very, very rare and it's just way easier to say than explain all that. Definitely do buy into the idea that he had a crush on Oboro in hs but i do NOT buy into the easermic agenda sorry. Definitely not someone who goes looking for dates, but doesn't say no if someone asks him and hes interested (also im not gonna give her a whole section but i saw a hc a while back that the Ms. Joke stuff is literally that shes a lesbian and hes gay and shes fucking with him and i love that so much i just wanted to put it out there)

on the topic of the erasermic agenda: Hizashi's pan and knew it before HS, had a sudden & intense crush on Aizawa for the first month they knew each other and then immediately got over it in favor of a similar sudden, intense, and then immediately fading crush on Midnight. Hizashi and Aizawa r just rlly good friends imo; maybe they messed around for a bit in their twenties but it never went anywhere serious. He dates around a lot, not even necessarily to settle down just to have some fun

Midnight is aro/ace but does get in qprs & gravitates towards women wrt that. Most people dont read vigilantes but theres a woman in that, Kazuho, who i imagine she's been in a long-term qpr with; her relationship with aizawa and hizashi leans a little more towards a qpr than a normal friendship, too, but it's not rlly defined that way

All Might is married to justice queer but v much not interested in relationships. He and that one guy from the first movie are ABSOLUTELY exes and i won't hear otherwise; it's the only relationship he's ever had, and they broke up bc he had to go back to japan. He was heartbroken but did eventually get over him; his lack of romance afterwards is from genuine disinterest and not being hung up on his past. I can see him finding someone else in his later years, after he's retired. Definitely feels like he's not worthy of it tho

Hawks is bi but unfortunately didn't get to figure that out until like Now in the timeline...... if youll let my dabihawks history shine through i think dabi was the reason JHBASFGJHB he was basically brainwashed by the commission to become a hero so he didnt have time to Figure That Shit Out; he knew he was into women bc that was easy & what the commission expected from him but then he started this undercover assignment and met dabi and realized Oh...... Fuck. Hawks is hard tbh, bc i think between the control that the commission has over him and his own convictions as a hero he doesn't pursue any romance (tho he does get crushes or find people attractive) and most of his flings are done to keep up his prettyboy act, not out of genuine interest in being a fuckboy. Can't imagine him having a relationship until well after canon but I do see him being interested eventually

Onto the villains, Shigaraki is unlabelled but probably would call himself queer if asked. Definitely admires women more but isn't very interested in romance; AFO actively encourages him to pursue the things interested in so imo if he were he'd talk abt it more lmfao. I kinda see him as demi as well, not the type to fall immediately but requiring a friendship beforehand; tho unlike Bakugo as i said in my last post I dont think it happens suddenly but rather slowly. Y'all know im a big fan of shigaraki being absolutely whipped for his s/o so i do thing hes a big piner, tho he's also pretty bold and unashamed of his affections. I'm a big fan of him falling for a member of the league or a civilian; definitely can't see him falling for a hero unless the hero was already halfway to turning sides already. I think he's also attracted to intelligence and someone who pushes him to think more abt his ideology...... maybe im just projecting at this point JSHDFBVAJKSHD but my point is that the gender of his partner is definitely the least of what he considers/notices

Dabi is bi and, here's my bold take, demisexual; not interested in sex unless its with someone he loves. Absolutely doesn't even think abt romance for most of the years where he's on his own. He's got revenge to plan. By the time he joins the league that hasn't changed much, and he's demi so he's not interested in sleeping around, plus he rlly denies any attachment to people at all. As I said in that other ask tho I do rlly like the idea of him with Magne, so I think they have a fling for a bit before her death :( it's one of the things that leads him to isolate himself further, unfortunately, even from Jin and the other League members with whom his relationships aren't romantic. I can see him dating someone post-canon bc i think hes gonna be redeemed lol. It could be someone he knew before but they probably didnt date again bc he was v guarded; i think magne was rlly the only person he dated

Magne is pan and heres the kicker: I think shes t4t, which led to a little moment just before she and dabi got together where he was like "she wouldnt be into me :/" but she was into him anyway so all was good. She got around in her circles, mostly casual stuff tho she yearned for something more serious.

Spinner's bi & trends towards women but does occasionally get things for men and they're almost always intense. He thought he was straight for a while even once he joined the league and then suddenly got a crush on Shigaraki (around the time of MVA) and realized otherwise LMFAO he's definitely a hopeless romantic type, the whole mutant prejudice thing makes it rlly hard for him and i can see him being rlly happy with another mutant-type; i feel like as he matures he starts to gravitate towards them

Toga is canonically pan to my understanding, iirc her interest in Uraraka and Deku is the same (and romantic) in canon tho i might be wrong. Poor girl just needs therapy. I like the idea of the two of them becoming her friends over her being involved with them but i totally can get behind her having a thing with Uraraka (and maybe Tsu) at some point post-canon (presuming she gets redeemed), tho I think a qpr between the two/three of them would be longer lasting. And again presuming she gets therapy i can see her settling down with someone, gender irrelevant

Jin is unlabelled bc he hasn't much thought abt it, definitely had a thing for dabi and for hawks which does make me sad on both counts. I think he likes women slightly more abstractly/aesthetically and gets crushes more on men,. The dabi thing fades as they get closer and start to view each other as brothers. In his later years he doesn't rlly care about romance, I think he enjoys the experience of crushing but doesnt like dating people; his found family in the League is far more important to him. But i can see him falling head-over-heels for someone quite suddenly and having a bit of a whirlwind romance. Also someone for whom gender isn't much of a factor

Mr Compress is also queer and also hasn't rlly thought abt it. Definitely leans more towards women; he's like 30 but i like to think he also goes for older partners, 10 or 15 years his senior KJBADSJFHB idk he just has that Vibe with the way he calls himself an old man etc. A lot of the league i cant see sleeping or dating around much, i feel like they prioritize each other, but I do think mr compress gets around more than the others. i can see him having a bit of a fuckbuddy who he catches feelings for

Kurogiri is fun; as Oboro I do think Aizawa's crush was reciprocated, tho he wasn't around long enough for them to act on it :( he's bi, tho kurogiri isn't supposed to have personal interests. I like to imagine the brainwashing isnt as good as AFO wants it to be tho so I like the idea of him falling for someone anyway. I also like the idea of the heroes managing to undo the nomufication and I 100% can see him, aizawa, and someone else (someone he was involved with as Kurogiri) ending up in a triad as a result of aizawa and the third partner helping him through the aftermath of all that shit

Lady Nagant is a manga-only minor character but im in love with her so imma talk abt it. Shes bi and leans VERY heavily towards women, probably spent years questioning whether she was rlly bi or a lesbian before finally having a fling with a guy that she genuinely enjoyed. Has only ever been in long-term relationships with women and I v much think she has a gf at home who stayed even when she was arrested 🥺

Finally imma talk abt Natsuo bc i love that boy. He's one of the few unmarried chars with a love interest and he canonically has a gf. I do see him as IDing straight in canon ngl, but the kind of straight where he might actually be bi but his preference leans so heavily towards women and he grew up in a bad home so he just doesnt rlly think abt it bc hes v happy with women anyway. In shiganatsu thoughts shigaraki is the first man he has a thing for; i rlly can see the two of them in a triad with a woman specifically, who helps the two of them find each other and is the one who initiates bc its definitely a weird situation for natsuo

[imagineaworlds]

I Love You (Part Forty-Two) -- Aaron Hotchner

Written By: @desperately-bisexual

Request: None.

Warnings: Cursing. Mentions of kidnapping. Mentions of death, torture, sexual assault, panic attack, PTSD-- everything Criminal Minds. Talk of sex, BDSM, Dom/sub relationship, etc.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Greenaway!Reader

Word Count: 12469

Timeline: Season 6 Episode 09. A month after part forty-one.

A/N: Hi, my loves. I might be taking a very short break. School is..... it's a lot right now. I think that between school and the way my friends have been getting into my head about Criminal Minsd/Hotch/Thomas, I've just kind of fallen out of love temporarily. I'm finishing up Sense8 rn, and then I'm going to start watching Tales of the City to help revamp my love for Thomas, and in turn Hotch and Criminal Minds. Chapter 43 is going to be a long one, so I just need ya'll to bear with me for a bit as I get to writing it. I love you guys! <3

A week stuck in the house after getting back from Hawai’i was a week too long. All I wanted to do was get back to work and act like nothing happened, because, really, nothing did happen. Yeah, something happened, but it could have been way worse. I handled the situation before it could get bad, and the team found me. As for the only surviving Unsub who took me, Morgan and Emily went to question him after he got out of surgery. They asked him about this website that Foyet had supposedly set up for his fans, but by the time they got the name of it, it was gone, and Garcia couldn’t find anything about it. She searched far and wide, even trying to recover the site itself, but whoever really set it up was good, and they knew how to cover their tracks.

All we knew was how the site operated. According to the Unsub, there were levels of the “membership”. Those who wanted to join Foyet’s little minion club, or whatever the fuck it was, had to start at level one with a misdemeanor. The higher up they wanted to move through the levels, the more intense the crimes got. The third to last level, the one the Unsub and his friends were on, was killing me. Throughout the whole ordeal— from the moment they bid on the task in the level, up until I managed to shoot two of them, they were in contact with the person in charge. He told them where to find me, when to take me, how to do it, where to take me, what to do about the call, but they came to a screeching halt when they were told that they needed to send a piece of me, one at a time, to Hotch and Jack. For a group of criminals who worked through the levels of robbery, rape, child abductions, and animal murder, it was surprising to me that they wouldn’t even try to follow their orders. I mean, they could have at least— Maybe that wasn’t anything to ponder on.

When asked what the last two levels were, however, the Unsub told us that he didn’t know because the bids were hidden from anyone on the lower levels. They had been the first group to make it to the “my” level, no one knew what the last two were. If I had to guess, though, based on what I knew about Foyet and his mission to ruin Hotch’s life, I was going to take a wild guess that the second one was likely hurting Jack— which was already unthinkable— and the first… the first was Hotch.

Foyet liked torturing Hotch. From the stabbings to killing Haley, Foyet enjoyed making Hotch’s life a living hell. Even from the grave, Foyet was doing his best to break down Hotch. He wanted Hotch’s life to fall apart around him, to have him lose everything before he would finally be targeted, too. From what we knew, the only task the Unsubs had with me was sending me off in pieces. That was it. The consideration to do more, the conversations I had overheard, was of their own volition; but it also happened to be their downfall. With Hotch, the task was probably to make it as painful as possible. Honestly, I didn’t want to consider the options after knowing what Foyet had already done.

After the Unsub was out of the hospital, our questioning completed, he was processed, and it was finally out of our hands. When we got home, I practically collapsed in the doorway, catching Jack in my arms as he ran to me for a Superman hug. I had never been more relieved to see him in my life since Foyet took him. I held him in my arms for as long as I could, even when he tried to protest that I was hugging him too tight. I never wanted to let him go. Even when he started asking questions about what happened on our vacation, because something was clearly wrong, I just stayed as still and quiet as possible because I just wanted to hold my son in my arms.

Hotch made me stay home for the week following that while he practically catered to my ever want and need. In a way, I suppose, I was under house arrest. All I was missing was the ankle monitor; and, honestly, it wouldn’t have surprised me if I would have woken up with one on. Hotch was being a little too protective since it happened. While I tried to not blame him because he was obviously still trying to get over the fact that he could have lost me, I just wanted to get back out there and live my life. I wanted to get back into the field; I wanted to see our friends; I wanted to mess around with Morgan and Emily all the time. I didn’t want to feel like a wounded, little lamb.

What happened to me wasn’t even that bad, as I said. All I had were a few cuts and bruises, yet Hotch was acting like my entire body was broken and he needed to do everything for me. He didn’t go to work, he hardly even let me out of my sight. It was like the days following Haley’s death where I watched Hotch and Jack like a hawk because I was afraid that if I let them out of my sight for even a moment, I would never see them again. Hotch probably felt the same way about me this time around… But I really just needed him to take a step back and let me breathe.

When I did get back to work about a month after Hawai’i, it wasn’t an easy transition. All the way to the office, Hotch tried to convince me into reconsidering going back. If it were up to him, I would have been at home for the next nine months or so. But I didn’t want that. I didn’t want to be locked up for months on end, sitting around, worrying about Hotch and the rest of the team as they went out to work on hundreds of cases without me. That wasn’t going to happen. I had a life to get back to. I could deal with my trauma outside of work— just like Hotch, who was still going to therapy because of what happened with Foyet while still going to work, too. And if he was just worried about me being pregnant, which I was sure was a factor, then he had to understand that it wasn’t a big deal yet. It was a miracle, of course, but it wasn’t impeding my ability to work just yet.

I just had to keep reminding Hotch that I had been to hell and back a thousand times, and this was just one more thing to add to the shit list. If I could get through all of that, I could get through this. But if Hotch started blowing this all out of proportion and made a big deal out of it, we were going to have problems. I compared it to when he found out the truth about those photos the Fisher King had taken out of my jewelry box, and he promised that he wouldn’t treat me any differently knowing what he knew now. I needed that understanding back. He always told me that he trusted my judgement—if he didn’t, he would have never let me go near that train Elle was being held hostage on in Texas a few years back—so I just needed him to trust me now. I was going to be fine. I was fine.

On Tuesday, after driving into work and getting some reports done, the team gathered in the roundtable room to discuss potential cases. Only, JJ already had a case in mind. Daniel Lanham, a ten year old boy, was reported missing on a camping trip by his father last November… Over a year ago… He was never found. In fact, the case had run so cold, that the police were initially grasping at straws by trying to pin the whole disappearance on the father. However, with no forensic evidence tying him to a crime, they couldn’t arrest him; but now that Daniel’s body had just appeared on the Appalachian Trail, questions were starting to stir and fingers were being pointed again.

I stared at the photo of that boy’s decayed body. He was only ten. How could someone do this to a child—How could someone do this to their own child, if that were really the case. I mean, there were signs of care and remorse with the body that indicated personal attachment that a father could potentially have. Daniel’s body had been wrapped in a plastic bag that was buried underground and covered by elements, all in the name of preserving and protecting the body from weather, animals, natural accelerated decay, etc. But this was an opportunistic crime. Our Unsub, if he was hunting for a victim on the Appalachian Trail, had to sit and wait for the perfect boy to come along. Or if Daniel’s father was responsible, he had to wait until his son was alone with him. Either way, it was an opportunity that arose, not a sophisticated, targeted attack. That was… unless…

“JJ, are there any more missing persons or mysterious deaths on the trail that could be connected to this?” I asked.

“The Rangers contacted me with this case, and they claimed that they’ve never seen anything like it. So, I’m going to assume not. But I’ll check with them when we get on the jet, just in case.”

“It says here that Daniel’s father went back to the trail every month in search for his son?” Hotch questioned, looking through the file. “And then he stopped in March.” He stopped in his tracks as a realization hit him. “Which is about the same time the M.E. estimates Daniel was killed.” He closed his case file. “Y/N, we’ll talk to Mr. Lanham when we arrive at the Park Ranger’s office. JJ, can you have them organize that while we’re on the jet and you’re contacting them about similar cases?”

“Sure,” she answered.

“Prentiss and Morgan, when we get to the trail, you guys should head out to where Daniel Lanham’s body was found in order to get an understanding of this Unsub’s level of mental stability.”

By that, he was alluding to the fact that we weren’t sure if our Unsub was Mr. Lanham or not. If this presented as organized or disorganized, it would help us conclude on way or another, and if there was anything else important out there that they Rangers missed, it might help us build our profile. So, it truly made sense that we would send someone out there. But I wished that it were me. Hotch usually teamed me up with Morgan—or, at times, Morgan and Emily. I wanted to go on the trail with them so bad. But Hotch wanted me to stay back in the Ranger’s office with him in order to question Mr. Lanham, even though that was a small enough task for one of us to do alone.

----

The Park Ranger’s office was more like a large cabin. Actually, that was exactly what it was—and it was similar to Gideon’s cabin, but perhaps twice that size. There was one main office where all of the Rangers had been waiting for our arrival, then there was the lead Ranger’s office to the left, and, lastly, set ahead was a boardroom where we could meet privately if need be. As we walked in, we were immediately told that Mr. Lanham was waiting for us in said boardroom.

While Emily and Morgan turned on their heels to head straight out to the trail as Hotch ordered, Rossi, Reid, and JJ moved to the table in the middle of the room that had a large map taped down to it for us to get our bearings. Reid immediately started building the geographical profile. So, while he was busy with that, and JJ and Rossi were getting caught up with the Ranger’s investigation, Hotch and I headed into the boardroom.

Hotch held the door open for me. I silently thanked him as I headed inside to see Mr. Lanham sitting at a desk, never looking up to acknowledge us. We carefully approached.

“Mr. Lanham, I’m Agent Hotchner, this is Agent Greenaway, and we’re with the Behavior Analysis Unit at the FBI. We’ve been called in to investigate your son’s death.” Hotch pulled a chair out for me. “We need to ask you some questions.” After I sat down, Hotch moved to take a seat in the chair next to me.

Mr. Lanham shrugged, keeping his eyes lowered, his hands in his lap, his leg shaking nervously under the table. All signs that he had issues with authority. Some of them were signs of guilt, but they could also be attributed to his frustration with the FBI questioning him when he thought that everyone had forgotten him as a suspect. I understood why he felt that way. However, it was necessary to ask him these questions in order to confirm or deny if he had any involvement in his son’s death. So far, it was inconclusive.

“You went almost twice a month out to the site where your son disappeared from November to March. And then you stopped going.”

He nodded. “That’s correct.”

“Why? Why stop at the same time he died? Because that looks awfully suspicious to us, Mr. Lanham.”

“I don’t know. Alright? I just—” He let out a heavy sigh as his body slumped in his seat. A sign of defeat rather than guilt. “I had this… feeling that he was gone. And it was taking too much out of me to keep searching. You probably don’t know what that feels like.”

I glanced over at Hotch. When Foyet took Haley and Jack, I had this feeling in the pit of my stomach that something terrible was going to happen, and no one was going to be able to stop it. And then Haley died. My suspicions had been confirmed, my heart shattered in my chest, and yet… the anxiety dialed back. I could remember still being hysterical and worried out of my mind because I wasn’t sure if Hotch and Jack were dead; but… Now that we were sitting there and Mr. Lanham had brought up this “feeling” he had, I realized that some part of me that day knew that they were still alive. I still had a sliver of hope that Jack was just hiding, safe and sound in his secret spot, and I had a feeling that Hotch was alright. And I was correct. Hotch was beaten and broken, of course, but he was alive. And my little man was alive. So, I understood that “feeling” Mr. Lanham had referred to.

Hotch moved on. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but you used to take Daniel camping every weekend.”

“Yes. His mother had full custody, but she allowed me to see him on the weekends.”

Hotch and I knew that feeling all too well. Haley practically had full custody, but she allowed us to see Jack whenever we were in town; but it was still hard. Co-parenting was hard. I couldn’t imagine how Hotch did it alone all those years.

“So, the night he disappeared, what happened?” I asked. Mr. Lanham didn’t respond because he seemed at a loss for words. Even though he had recited his story a thousand times for local police, state police, Park Rangers, and so on, he couldn’t find the right words anymore. I really couldn’t blame him.

“You set up camp…” Hotch began egging him on once he noticed Mr. Lanham’s hesitancy. “You fell asleep… And then… A man came into your tent?”

“No. No one came into the tent. Daniel got up because he had to use the bathroom. He didn’t wake me up because he was in that phase where he was convinced that he didn’t need his dad protecting him all the time…” He sniffled. “So, I rolled over and I went back to sleep. I should’ve—” His voice cracked behind a sob. “I should’ve gone after him. But I didn’t.”

“Mr—” I began, but he interrupted me.

“I was his hero, and I failed,” Mr. Lanham cried before hiding his face in his hands out of shame.

I recognized the look on his face as he had said it, though. It was the same look Hotch wore for months after Haley died. He was ashamed that he couldn’t have done more to save her, and he failed at being Jack’s superhero when he needed it most.

“I don’t care that you all think I’m guilty. Because I am! I am guilty! I didn’t protect my son when he needed me most.” He looked up at us. “If I could go to prison for that, I would.”

Without a doubt, I knew that there was no way Mr. Lanham hurt his son. That kind of thinking—that sort of regret couldn’t be replicated by any kind of sociopath. No. Only a true grieving father who had been through hell could possibly feel that way. And since I had seen Hotch go through the exact same motions after Haley’s death, I knew that Mr. Lanham was innocent, and that he wasn’t putting any kind of show on for us. He genuinely regretted that night.

But I just couldn’t sit there and keep listening to his distraught cries. The way he was sobbing while blaming himself for something he had no control over only took me back to over a year ago where Hotch practically collapsed in my arms after Haley’s wake, and he pleaded with me about moving houses because he couldn’t stand being in that house anymore. The cries were eerily similar. And the worst part was, that parental regret that Mr. Lanham was starting to rub off on me when it came to Jack, and now the regret was turning into panic with our baby. Fuck.

I stood and saw myself out of the boardroom. Hotch was hot on my heels, likely because he didn’t want to listen to it any longer, either. The superhero thing hit too hard. We were Jack’s superheroes—we always had been—and the day that Foyet killed Haley, we failed him. We couldn’t protect him and his mom practically the one time it mattered most. Before, I used to regret that deeply, of course, but now that there were… other factors involved… I felt all of that ten times harder now, and it made me reflect on what the hell Hotch and I were actually going to do to prevent something like that from happening ever again. I didn’t want it to be Jack or our baby that we would lose next time—No. There would be no next time… This was exactly why I had to get away from Mr. Lanham while he was like that.

Apparently, Emily and Morgan had gotten back from the trail while we were talking to Daniel’s dad. They were standing around the map table in the middle of the office, a marker in Emily’s hand as they told Rossi and Reid everything they found out there. More bodies. And by more, I mean a lot more. Where they went to find Daniel’s burial ground, they ended up finding at least a dozen other bodies that Rangers were working to dig up currently so that they could be identified. So, this just turned serial.

“His name is Tyler Dale. He was the same age as Daniel when he went missing, and he was on a family trip when it happened,” Morgan explained, catching me and Hotch up to date with what everyone else knew.

Reid immediately scurried off with this new information to work on something that was churning in his mind, something that he couldn’t explain to us quite yet or it would ruin his thought process. We all turned to watch him silently work. We knew that whatever it was, it was likely important, and likely to help us. Honestly, if I were to guess, now that I was watching him scan through both Daniel and Tyler’s files a mile a minute, he was probably working on victimology. If he wasn’t, I was going to start. He was the fast reader, but I was the quick spotter. I almost wanted to challenge him one day into seeing who could solve a cold or closed case first—like the Foothpath Killer. Considering I solved that one the fastest, and Gideon was incredibly impressed, I was sure I could win against Spencer Reid.

And then he jumped to his feet with a thought. Okay… So, maybe he would put up a good fight. But I liked a challenge. I kept considering it as Reid set the files out on the map table and started dialing Garcia’s number on the conference phone. I cocked a brow at him. What was it that he found? Or, actually, what was it that he thought he had found?

“Garcia—” Reid began.

“Oh, it’s the boy wonder!” she cheered. “You never call me. It’s so isolating…”

Reid smiled lightly in response. “Sorry. We’ve been a bit busy.”

“I forgive you. I guess.”

Those of us who were standing around chuckled somewhat. Reid immediately turned back to his work when he shook it off, though, so that he could get back to what it was he called her for. “Can you look up the missing persons reports on the trail, specifically young boys between the ages of nine to thirteen.”

“I’m gonna need more than that.”

“The Unsub’s probably in his late thirties to forties, so disregard any cases older than twenty years.”

“What are you doing?” Rossi asked, utterly confused.

Reid hardly acknowledged Rossi when he answered with, “Speeding up the process of identifying those kids.” He grabbed a pen. “Garcia, narrow it down to boys with dark hair only. How many do we have now?”

“Twelve.”

Emily’s eyes widened. “They’ve only found ten bodies so far.”

Reid stood tall. “Yeah, but they’re still looking. It’s entirely possible those other two boys are out there. Garcia, which of those is the oldest case?”

“Um… Victor Dane disappeared when he was ten… and that was…” Garcia paused and gulped. “Oh. Fifteen years ago. They never found out what happened to him, but Rangers at the time suspected that he just happened to get lost.” That was usually their excuse when people went missing out there.

“What time of year was that?”

“October 20th.”

Reid was scribbling notes down on a piece of paper in one of the kids’ files. “What about the other boys? Did they all disappear around that time?”

“Yeah… How did you…”

“Thanks, Garcia.” Reid hung up on her without any consideration, and he stood to face all of us.

As we all huddled around, Reid began explaining how the cogs turning in his head had just come up with a dozen different answers to the problems we were facing. For our profile of the Unsub, we were missing any kind of link between how, when, and why the victims were taken. But Reid figured it out. Now that we had the identity of another kid, he was able to connect some of the dots, but what Garcia told him explained it all clearly to him. Our Unsub was crossing stateliness, which was why no one connected the dots—and he was spending months doing so. To hike the entire trail would take about six months. He was taking his victims in the fall, and we knew from Tyler and Daniel, he was killing the boys in the winter…

He was torturing them for months on end… He got away with it because no one knew that he existed.

I cringed and took a step back and away from the group. I felt Hotch’s eyes following me, so I didn’t let any emotion show that would give away the panic building in my chest. What if Hotch had thought that I just wandered off in Hawai’i? What if he had really been convinced that I left to go back to the Mainland—that I had left him… No one knew that those men who took me existed. No one knew that there were people out there who were so loyal to The Reaper. No one knew that I was a target. I could have died if Hotch didn’t know me so well. I could have died if the team didn’t have enough trust in him and I to know that something was wrong. I could have ended up like those boys that were being dug up in the forest.

I swallowed all of my pain.

----

That night, Hotch forced me to go back to the hotel with him while the team stayed at the Ranger’s office to have a long night of working. I think this move of his had more to do with Hawai’i than anything else. He was worried that I wasn’t better. He thought that I was suppressing any memories or PTSD in order to trick him into thinking that I was alright. And maybe I was. Maybe I wasn’t at all okay because every time I closed my eyes, I was terrified that someone else who had seen “Foyet’s website” would come to kill me, Jack, or Hotch. I was dreading a call from home while we were gone on this case that would tell us that someone took our little man from us. Foyet was always cruel. There was no doubt about it. But I never thought that it would get this far after death, after Hotch had bashed his face in to the point he was unrecognizable.

I needed rest desperately. For once, I wasn’t going to argue with Hotch about something related to dictating my life. Because I clearly needed to sleep, but Hotch didn’t, he decided to set up shop at the desk while I rolled into bed, which meant that I could afford to at least close my eyes because someone was keeping watch. Usually, Hotch fell asleep without struggle. If I were wrapped in his arms, it would take only a few minutes before he would completely crash and start snoring in my ear—but I could never fell asleep. If I did, there was a chance someone could take him from me. Something like Hawai’i could happen to him if I weren’t careful. So, I stayed up nearly every night just to ensure no one would come in and take him—or even to make sure that no one was lurking in the house to hurt Jack. But Hotch was staying up now. He was sitting at the desk, looking over the case, facing the door and the window, which was a reassurance to me that meant that no one could sneak up on him now.

So, I relaxed.

After a few minutes, I heard Hotch get up to grab his pajamas and toiletries from his go-bag and head into the bathroom. My eyes followed him until he closed the door.

I curled up on the bed, bringing my knees up ever so slightly towards my chest, and I laid my hands over my stomach. It was so odd… Everything felt normal, but it clearly wasn’t. Between the fact that Hotch was being overprotective and that I was subconsciously protecting my stomach more, it was obvious that I was pregnant; but I wasn’t showing yet, and I technically couldn’t even feel anything yet. It was just knowledge and an unconscious drive to protect something we couldn’t even see or feel. But the strangest part of it all was that I couldn’t wait to have more than that. I couldn’t wait to hold our baby, to see if they got mine or Hotch’s eyes, or what color hair they would end up with. Every second that we wasted just knowing and not seeing was torture. I was just excited to skip the next few months and finally have them in my arms.

Hotch came out of the bathroom, his face washed, teeth brushed, hair combed out of his face, and his suit switched out for his pajamas. When he saw my curled on the bed, he smiled. I smiled back at him. Despite how tense I had been about his protective behavior, I could find myself relaxing and falling in love with him over and over again every time he looked at me like that. It was this sparkle in his eyes that spoke volumes about how much he eternally loved me. And that smile… It was this slight curl at the corner of his lips that ever so slowly turned into a wide, toothy grin the longer he stared at me. It was pure joy. And it was absolutely contagious. I found that every time I spotted that smile growing on his face, I’d start smiling ear to ear, laughing at how cute and silly he was.

Aaron Hotchner… Cute and silly… It was strange to think about that sometimes—how I knew him in that capacity when no one else even got a hint of that side of him. In fact, most people didn’t know that he was capable of smiling. But he was. He was capable of so much, and he was deserving of every happiness in the world. After everything he had been through, I could confidently say he earned eternal bliss.

“You okay?” he asked quietly. He always whispered when he was afraid of disturbing me because he was taken by the way I was just… existing. I wasn’t doing anything special, yet he didn’t want me to move. I could tell that he wanted to remember me like that for a little longer.

I nodded. “Yeah. Just thinking.”

“About?” He moved to sit down at the end of the bed, bringing my feet onto his lap so that he could massage them lightly. I relaxed immediately. When he started rubbing his thumb into the arch of my foot, I rotated somewhat so that I was laying on my back and looking at him.

“What Mr. Lanham said about his son,” I answered. “I’m terrified that something is going to happen to our kid, Aaron. Terrified. We know what’s out there—We know who’s out there. How can we possibly protect them from all the evils out there?”

“We just try our best.”

“Mr. Lanham tried his best. You tried your best. What if I can’t try my best?”

Hotch moved his thumbs to the pads of my feet. “It’s hard, Y/N. I’m not going to lie. All that pain and panic you feel on behalf of Jack is going to be ten times worse now with your own flesh and blood. That doesn’t mean that you love Jack any less—please don’t take it that way. But it is different when they’re your own. So, this anxiety you’re feeling now is entirely valid. Trust me. But it’s a day by day thing. You do your best one day, and then you try even harder the next. That’s all you can do. There’s no point in dwelling on what you could have done better or what horribly thing can potentially happen.”

“And if we fail?”

“We won’t.”

“How do—”

“We won’t,” he said more sternly.

I reached out to squeeze his bicep, since that was all I could reach and reaffirm. Maybe I did understand why he wanted to protect me. Maybe he was just doing his best with me, and he felt that his day to day best wasn’t enough. But it was. Actually, it was more than enough.

“I love you.”

He kissed his way up from my ankle to my hip, slowly moving around until he was hovering over me and I was giggling at the way his kisses tickled to me. I punched at his pecks lightly in a playful attempt to make him stop. But he didn’t. He only smirked and moved to kiss my stomach. I ran my fingers through his hair, encouraging him to stay there because I loved how it felt. I loved thinking to myself that we knew something was there, though we couldn’t see it, yet he had an instinct to still show me every bit of love. Especially there.

“I love you,” he whispered against my stomach.

----

In the morning. Hotch and I woke to a call from the Park Rangers that two kids had just been reported missing on the trail. A boy and a girl. Robert and Ana Copeland. That didn’t match our Unsub’s M.O. at all, but we simply couldn’t take the chance. Knowing that the body count out in the forest was only increasing with every knew hole Rangers were digging out there, it was entirely possible that the Unsub was spiraling. It wasn’t worth ignoring. If it meant potentially saving those kids, we were going to at least look into it. If it turned out that it had nothing to do with our case, it would be passed on to the Rangers and local PD, who could hopefully help the parents seek closure.

Until then, we had to try our best. So, we hurried out of bed and raced to the Ranger’s office. When we got there, JJ was already setting up a search party with the Rangers and local volunteers who found out that the kids went missing and wanted to help. Hotch pulled me to the side before we stepped in.

“You should stay here with Reid, give us some outside geographical help,” he offered.

I cocked a brow at him, scoffed, then walked away. There was no fucking way I was doing that. Fucking ridiculous. “JJ,” I said, tapping her shoulder. She turned to face me. “I’ll take the far East quadrant.” I pointed to her map, signaling to the area of the forest that I was referring to. It happened to be the smallest with the least amount of volunteers to oversee, so I figured that Hotch would at least compromise on that. “And I’ll check out the—"

Hotch suddenly grabbed my bicep a little harder than expected and started pulling me to the board room to talk to me privately. He let go of my arm as I stumbled inside, catching my balance quickly before turning to face him. He was frowning like he was angry with me. My eyes followed him as he locked the door then proceeded to turn all of the blinds up so that they were closed, making it so that no one could see into the room.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he asked me, crossing his arms over his chest once the room was made private and dark.

I shrugged. “I’m going to go help those kids.”

He shook his head. “I’m benching you.”

“Hotch—”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

He was oddly calm. Usually, if I gave him push back like this, he’d try to be a little more demanding— whether it be with his boss or Sir tone. Either would have worked on me, but he was still holding back. Asshole. Just fucking crack. Please. Give me something in response to my pushback. Recognize that I’m fucking with you because I want you back, and just do something! Please!

“You can’t bench me—”

Hotch’s eyes narrowed. “I’m pulling you from the field. You shouldn’t have come back this early. And I don’t want you to get hurt, especially since there are new factors involved.”

I chuckled. So that was what this was about. I wasn’t even showing, and he was already losing his shit. This was exactly why I was scared to tell him I was pregnant in the first place. I knew that this would fucking happen. “That’s bullshit,” I snapped. I just wanted him to fight with me. Was that too much to ask? “You didn’t pull JJ out of the field until she was too pregnant to even walk.”

“That was different.”

“It really fucking isn’t, Aaron! I’m going to go out there and I’m going to help find those kids and our Unsub, and there’s really nothing you can do to stop me right now. If you want to pull me out of the field, then you’re going to have to wait until we get back to the office and tell Strauss exactly why.” I started making my way towards the door. “Until then, I’m going—"

Hotch stepped in my way, making me crash into him slightly, but he didn’t waver. “Sit down and shut up,” Hotch demanded gruffly.

I gulped and instinctively took an obedient seat on the couch. There was the Hotch I knew. I found him in there somehow, which meant that I was right about him holding back on my behalf. He still wanted to be rough with me, I could see it in his eyes; but he was doing everything in his power to not do it because he thought I was fragile. I wasn’t fragile. He knew better than anyone that I wasn’t fragile. Hopefully, all it would take was this one snap and we’d be back in business.

Hotch paced the room for a moment before stopping just in front of me. He roughly pinched my face with one hand to make me look up at him. “You want things to be normal? Fine. Stop being a brat and listen to my orders. You’re staying here with Reid, and that’s the end of it.” He let go of my face.

“Yes, Sir.” I nodded.

His chest fell as he let out a relieved sigh, “Good girl.” He ran his fingers through his hair as he caught his breath, trying to come to terms with what he had just done, and how he thought it was entirely out of line. “Sorry,” he whispered under his breath, ashamed.

I shook my head while standing. “I love you.” I took his face in my hands and kissed him gingerly. “I’m sorry for pushing your buttons.”

He kissed me back. “It’s okay.” He let go of me, and I let go of him, then, within an instant, Hotch was storming off towards the door. “Call me if you and Reid find anything.”

I hesitantly agreed, watching him leave the board room and head out with the team, the Rangers, and all of the volunteers. It was just me and Reid in the Park Ranger’s office now. He glanced over at me, confusion written all over his face, but I just shrugged it off. I didn’t need him asking questions when I was still coming to terms with it myself.

I shook my head, unfolded my arms, and headed to the map table to search it with my eyes and fingers to find anywhere that stood out to me as a good place to hide out for the winter and to keep hostages. Reid was hovering over it with a pen in hand in order to help him pinpoint certain areas. When he saw something, he circled it. The only time I spotted something, I asked him to circle it, too.

Yet, all I could think about was Hotch while I should have been thinking about those kids that were out there, scared out of their wits as a monster did who knew what with them. I should have been focused. We weren’t supposed to let our emotions get in the way, which was a main concern Hotch and I had when we initially started dating. We couldn’t forget our work. We couldn’t let our relationship get in the way of saving lives. And I was trying to remind myself of that while staring at that map, attempting to force my eyes to focus in on something, but I just couldn’t. My mind was elsewhere.

“He’s probably hiding them in a cave,” he continued. I hummed a thoughtless agreement. “Somewhere near water so that he can live off the land.” I agreed again. “And then aliens came down and took them.” I hummed again. “What’s wrong with you?” Reid asked, circling a waterfall on the map. I cocked a brow, knowing that he could sense my confusion without having to look up. “I mean… I don’t want to pry, but something’s off.”

“It’s nothing,” I insisted. I knew that he was referring to how Hotch and I were practically dancing around each other, which wasn’t like us at all— especially since we just went through something which should have only brought us closer.

Reid looked up at me through his eyelashes for a brief moment to get a profile on me. He looked back down. “It makes sense, you know,” he commented while still scribbling on the map. I raised a brow, and he sensed my confusion again, so he continued, “Hotch has lost a lot. More than anyone should have to lose. It’s no surprise that he’s being more careful with you than he ever was with anyone else. He’s had to learn and evolve based on his experiences, and that evolution has brought him to being— for a lack of a better term— a helicopter parent. I don't think he’s necessarily trying to suffocate you, like you think he is. In his mind, he’s reminding himself of everything he could have done differently with Haley that could have saved their relationship and her life, and he’s testing out these new behaviors with you.

They say that a mother’s bond with her child is the strongest connection any two humans can have; but we’re still primal creatures, and the fathers have a tendency to become overbearingly protective once they are aware that their mates are carrying their child. Think of it like a wolf marking its territory. The wolf becomes hostile towards anything or anyone that tries to come near its territory because it’s their safe space and they have an instinct to protect it with their life. Fathers of most species are the same way with the mothers of their children, and humans happen to be the worst about it because we’re more advanced creatures—”

“Reid,” I spoke up, catching his attention, “you’re rambling.”

He chuckled self-consciously. “Sorry… I’m just trying to say that… things aren’t going to go back to normal— for a while, at least. He’s trying to make up for his past mistakes. And after what happened in Hawai’i, you can understand why he’s a little uneasy and a little more protective than you’d like. It might help if both of you, I don’t know… set some rules and boundaries.”

I smirked. “Is that the doctor’s advice?”

He shook his head and looked back down at the map. “It’s your friend’s advice.”

“Thank you, Spencer.” I put a hand on his shoulder.

Suddenly, the walkie talkie on the table started buzzing with static. Mine and Reid’s attention to turn to it just before we heard Morgan’s voice echo through the room with an update from the trail, a really good update, actually. They found the daughter. She was safe with him and Emily, and they were sending her back to the office with a Ranger so that I could question her because they couldn’t find her brother anywhere yet. I picked up the walkie to acknowledge his report.

We waited about thirty minutes after the call from Morgan to see the Copelands come in with JJ from the trail while looking around for their daughter who hadn’t arrived yet. JJ showed them to the boardroom so that they could wait there. When they were sitting down and holding each other anxiously, JJ came over to me and Reid and asked if we would be fine with waiting with the Copelands while she headed back out to the trail to work with the other volunteers who had a million questions for her. I shrugged and insisted that she go. I could handle this while Reid kept looking at the map.

On her way out, JJ ran into Ana and the Ranger that had brought her back. Ana was covered in dirt, her jacket torn up, her hair knotted, her eyes sunken out of exhaustion. I didn’t see any bruises on her, though. In fact, from where I was standing, I didn’t see any sign of any kind of abuse—sexual or otherwise. It made sense. Unfortunately, our Unsub’s type was kids, but he preferred boys. Whatever happened out there in the woods, there was probably a reason that Ana was with us and not Robert. Hopefully, she could give us some answers.

After sitting around for a few minutes, watching as the Copelands held their daughter close and let her cry against them, I decided to go in. Sitting there and watching them was just breaking my heart. All it did was remind me of all the times after Haley’s death when Jack would cling to me for dear life, crying into my shoulder until my shirt was soaked and I needed to change. I had never heard anyone sob in pain like that until that dreadful day when Hotch broke down, and then Jack started having nightmares. The two of them were in pain… They just couldn’t stop sobbing and whimpering. Ana was the same way.

I couldn’t cry like that when they found me in Hawai’i. Part of me knew that if I broke down and sobbed like that, then Hotch would have been in even worse shape than he already was. Besides, I had happy news that offset how I was really feeling. We had this little miracle in our lives now, and all of my focus was being drilled into that instead of remembering the panic I felt when I saw Gene standing just behind Hotch on the beach. I had to remember that in just a few months, there would be another little Hotchner running around—just as we had always joked about—and it distracted me from waking up with nightmares of sitting in that cabin, anticipating the moment they would finally decide to get rid of me.

I couldn’t keep thinking about it. I was sick of sitting around and waiting for something to happen. So, I carefully pushed into the room that the Copelands were sitting in, and I entered with a welcoming, kind smile that would help the scared little girl warm up to me. A thought occurred to me. I was never going to let my children be that terrified. Ever. I dreaded being an overbearing parent, but I knew what was out there, and I knew what I needed to do in order to protect my family. I was going to do whatever it would take. Neither of my kids would ever have to be in Ana or Robert’s shoes. No matter what.

“Hi, Ana.” I held my hand out for her to shake, just a simple way of me building rapport with her while also making her feel more adult and brave than she really was. “My name’s Y/N Greenaway, and I’m with the FBI. I’ve been looking for you and your brother, Robert.” She shook my hand warily. As she let go, I sat down in the seat across from her and crossed my ankles over each other. “Are you up for a few questions?”

Ana nodded shyly, tucking under her mother’s arm as much as possible.

“Cool.” I smiled at her. “What do you remember?”

“I shouldn’t’ve left Robert, but he told me to run. He made me promise to go when he distracted the man.”

“You did the right thing, Ana,” I reassured her, playing along with the dodge of my original question.

“But he still has my brother.”

“You being here because you listened to your brother is going to help us, though. I promise. I need you to tell me about the man who took you if we’re going to find Robert. Can you do that?”

She nodded. “We were in a cave…” she began slowly, pondering her words carefully as she tried to push through the nightmares running through her. I knew what that felt like. “He kept us in a cage with toys. Lots and lots of toys. There were no lights, and he stole Robert’s flashlight to make sure we couldn’t see anything.”

“What about the man, Ana?”

It was great that she was already being so open and talkative, but we knew all of this because Morgan and Emily were already searching for a cave, and the Unsub was probably long gone by now if he knew that Ana had escaped. We needed to know about him specifically in order to build the profile and find him.

“He was dirty,” she answered, “and scary. He was tall and fat. He walked funny and didn’t like to talk—”

“What do you mean by ‘he walked funny’?”

“Like, with a limp…”

“So, he was hurt?”

“I think so. That was why he couldn’t catch me, but he could catch Robert. He always took Robert. Never me. He took Robert at one point, and when he came back, he was crying and shaking, and that was when he told me that I needed to run the next time the man came for him. So, Robert pretended like he had to use the bathroom, and the man left the cage unlocked… Robert pushed him over long enough for me to run.” She started to sob. “I shouldn’t have left him!” She hid her face against her mother’s chest. “I shouldn’t’ve left him!”

I rubbed my hand over her back soothingly. “You did really good, Ana. Thank you.”

There was a knock at the door from Reid, a signal that he needed to talk to me privately. I nodded to him. I had gotten everything I could get out of Ana—at least for right now—and it was probably best just to let her relax and be with her family. I knew that after Hawai’i, all I wanted was to be with our family. I wanted Hotch, Jack, Morgan, Emily, Rossi, Reid, and JJ. I needed their support. I needed to know that they were okay, because if they were, then it gave me every reason—or excuse, depending on how you looked at it—to be okay, too. Ana probably needed that right now, too.

So, I silently stepped out of the room, letting the door fall shut quietly. I crossed my arms over my chest as I looked at Reid. He lifted his phone and turned the screen to face me, at which point I saw an image of a flower I was not at all familiar with, and I really had zero clue as to why he was showing it to me. I shrugged.

Reid looked at the photo again. “Emily and Morgan found his cave.”

“Robert?”

“They’re both gone. But Emily sent me this picture.”

“What is it?”

“It’s called Devil’s Claw.”

“Which is…”

“It helps heal swollen joints. Without it, our Unsub will be in a lot of pain.”

I glanced over my shoulder back into the room where Ana was hugging her parents as tight as she could—the same way Jack would always hug me and Hotch whenever he was upset. A superman hug. I looked back at Reid. “She told me that our Unsub walks with a limp. It’s probably connected.”

“If it’s really that bad that he still walks with a limp while taking this, it means he’s going to need more of it. And fast.”

“Where can you get it?”

“I mean, the flower version, like this, is all over the forest out there. But you can get it in pill or powder form on the black market, if you know where to look.”

“He’s going to head into town with Robert,” I realized. “And if he’s spending all of his time out on the trail, not working… That means he doesn’t have any money.”

“He’s going to sell Robert for drugs.”

I hesitated. “He wouldn’t give Robert away entirely. It goes against his M.O. You’re right, he’s going to sell Robert; but not the way you would think.” I hurried over to the walkie talkie sitting on the table and lifted it towards my mouth, pressing the TALK button as fast as I could. “Hotch.” I let go of the button and waited.

“I’m here,” he answered momentarily.

“Everyone needs to come back. Our Unsub isn’t out there anymore. He’s heading into town.”

And they did come back. It took a bit, but the entire team raced to get back to the Ranger’s office, at which point, we started discussing where the Unsub could have possibly gone, using our extremely loose profile we had. It really wasn’t enough to present to the Rangers or PD, but it was barely enough for us to use to our advantage. Knowing that he would have to get his medicine as fast as possible, we knew that he was going to turn to the black market—but in order to know who was possibly selling anything similar to Devil’s Claw, he had to already have connections in that world. Since we had previously deduced that he had been operating on the trail for at least fifteen years, that meant that he probably hadn’t met many criminals since then, so it had to be beforehand. But how did this pattern not appear sooner? Why hadn’t he started kidnapping children or abusing them sooner?

The simple answer was prison. It would explain why he was stagnant for a while, and why he was so fond of hiding in isolation. Not to mention, he probably met other pedophiles in there. And drug dealers. If he was desperate, he was going to meet with someone he knew and could trust to understand his medical condition, and also someone who would be willing to take time with a child as payment.

So, we called Garcia. We asked her to look for a man with a sexual assault history who was released from prison about sixteen years ago, then missed parole meetings fifteen years ago by going entirely off the grid. One would be shocked by how many men matched that description. So, we asked her to look for someone who had originally been housed near other registered sex offenders before going missing. That did the trick.

His name was Shane Wyland, and he had a long medical history when he was in prison. I mean, sex offenders were top targets inside, but he went to the infirmary more than the average pedophile. When I asked if it had to do with swollen joints, she agreed. She told us that Shane had a condition that made it increasingly difficult to keep moving around, even with the medication he was getting. But, in prison, they didn’t have what he needed. So, he had to get it from his bunk mate, another pedophile who was released around the same time as Shane.

“We need an address for his bunk mate,” Hotch insisted.

“That’s the thing,” Garcia began while still typing in order to get the address to us ASAP, “there are a handful of registered sex offenders who all share the same address.”

“What?” I questioned.

“It’s a cluster,” Emily said. When we all cocked a brow at her, she continued, “Since sex offenders can’t be near parks or school zones, their housing options are limited. Usually, they’ll reach out to their buddies from prison and ask if they know anywhere that will house them. That’s how they all end up with each other.”

Hotch shook his head. He hissed, “Garcia, the address, please.”

“Right. Sorry, sir.” She pressed the ENTER key of her computer as hard as she could, and we all felt our phones buzz.

As they all looked at their phones to take note of the building number and street name, I watched Hotch to see if there was any way he would let me go. They had a whole building to clear. I could be an asset. My time was better spent clearing the building with them than sitting around in the Park Ranger’s office, counting the minutes until the team would return. I really fucking hated feeling useless.

The team started collecting their gear, throwing on vests as fast as they could and putting comms in their ears. I waited for Hotch to tell me one way or the other. But, when I didn’t do anything, he didn’t seem to argue. I figured that if I were to move towards them and start gearing up, too, that was when things would have spiraled. All I could do was shake my head in disappointment and move to take a seat at the table with Reid. He was staying behind in case that lead didn’t pan out, which wasn’t very likely, but it was still a good idea to have back up. But he didn’t need me there. That was a one person job, and we all fucking knew it.

“Hey—” JJ called out, hurrying over to me. She slowed as I turned to face her. “Are you and Hotch alright?”

I peered over her shoulder to see Hotch talking to Morgan about how they were going to narrow down where the Unsub was and how we were going to get to him without letting the kid get hurt or die. I looked back at her. “Hotch is trying to pull me out of the field after this case, and we had a fight about it.”

“Oh…” She looked at her feet, almost like she regretted asking in the first place.

Ever since the bombing case in New York, I stopped opening up to JJ about my relationship with Hotch. She had insisted that she thought that Hotch and I were taking things to fast, and she almost seemed to doubt us. It really wasn’t until our wedding that I saw that she had changed her mind. But that was a little too late. By that point, I didn’t necessarily care about any opinion she had on my relationship. I valued her as a friend and a team member, of course; but… this… I just…

“Well,” she began hesitantly, “I know that you’ll figure it out. The two of you always get through it. I hardly hear about you guys fighting, so I wouldn’t stress over it too much.”

I nodded and shrugged. I mean, she was right, actually—kind of throwing what I just thought back in my face. But still. Hotch and I had always been honest and open with each other, which was why we were so successful. If I just listened to Spence, used my words and tried to level with Hotch, then we could sort all of this out and come to a better conclusion than pulling me out of the field entirely.

When they left without a word to me or Reid, I sat down across from Reid. We sat in silence for nearly thirty minutes as we waited around uselessly. The team let us know when they arrived in the city; and they let us know how they were splitting up. Rossi and Hotch were going to stay outside while Emily and Morgan were going to head inside, and JJ was going to coordinate with the local PD that had just appeared on site. A few minutes later, the comms started buzzing with back-and-forths.

“Hey, Hotch,” Emily said into the comms. “It looks like Robert was in the apartment, and there was a struggle. There’s a chance he could have escaped, which means that Shane and his bunk mate are probably chasing him around right now.”

Hotch responded, “Alright. You and Morgan continue to search the building, I’ll start a perimeter set up out here.”

“Got it.”

The comms went quiet again. I pouted and slumped forward, resting my elbows on my knees. Reid watched me through his lashes like he was trying not to stare at me. I glanced back at him. When our eyes met, he cleared his throat and shuffled around in his seat to make it look like he was keeping busy with the files in front of him. I rolled my eyes.

“You remember when you were shot in the leg and Hotch made you stay at the office during cases?” I asked quietly, moving to pick at the wood table in an attempt to cure my boredom. Reid hummed an agreement. “How did you not go crazy?”

Perhaps that wasn’t the right wording I should have used around him… He was always nervous about his dilaudid problem and the fear that his mother’s schizophrenia could be passed onto him. “Crazy” wasn’t exactly the right term for Spencer Reid. He was our resident genius, and that put a lot of pressure on him, and I wished that he knew that he wasn’t crazy, but I could tell that he thought he was. So, I almost felt bad for the slip up. But Reid genuinely didn’t seem to notice, which was a relief.

Reid crossed his legs, getting himself comfortable, and he looked back up at me with a little more confidence this time around. “I’m not gonna lie, Y/N, it wasn’t fun. None of us are used to sitting at Quantico all day like Garcia is. When Hotch officially benched me after Hankle and getting shot, there were times when I thought I was going crazy. I was extremely anxious while just sitting around all day. And I was killing myself with worry that one of you—or maybe all of you—wouldn’t come home one day… But I had to suck it up and just go with it until I got better because I knew that, ultimately, Hotch was just trying to protect me. Now, he’s just trying to protect you, too. He’d do it for any one of us for any number of reasons. My advice is the same as before. Talk to him, Y/N. And, if that doesn’t work, then just… suck it up and get through the next few months, because no matter how often you argue with him, you’re not going to win. Trust me. I tried.”

“I hate arguing with him, Spencer…”

He nodded. “I know. That’s why it might just be best to let him win this one.”

I lowered my head and leaned back again to focus on kicking the carpet. “Yeah.” Maybe he was right. I mean, maybe I shouldn’t have been taking advice from Spencer Reid, the guy who never had a girlfriend in his life… but his advice was surprisingly nice and welcoming.

“Hotch, we’ve got Robert, but Shane’s gone. We think he might be in the immediate vicinity,” Emily said over the comm again.

I smiled. They got him. They found Ana, and now they had found Robert. Knowing how many cops were crawling around that neighborhood now that Hotch had created that a perimeter, Shane Wyland was probably long gone. There was no way in hell he stuck around long enough to see if he could get Robert back. He likely knew as well as I did that if he managed to escape, he could keep taking other boys like Robert, and he could keep getting away with it. Even now that we knew who we were looking for, the trail was too long for us to track him. He was a ghost in the wind. But none of that necessarily mattered right now. This was technically a win for us. We saved two kids from a monster, and we discovered who that monster was. At least we could keep an eye out for Wyland in the future.

I stood and walked to the boardroom to tell the Courtlands the news. When I told them that their son was alive and well, they jumped to their feet while letting out breaths of relieve, and demanded to see him immediately. I told them that a Ranger would be driving them to the hospital in the city. Within an instant, they were pushing past me, racing to go seek out a Ranger that could take them as soon as possible. I didn’t take offense to that, though. I knew that they were overwhelmed by their joy of knowing that their son was alive, and all they wanted now was to hold him in their arms. It reminded me of Hotch when he found me in Hawai’i.

Hotch…

I sat down on the couch in silence and reflected on what just happened, and what I was inevitably going to say to him. I loved him. I would protect him to every end. In fact, we said as much to each other in our wedding vows a month ago. Maybe Reid was right about not trying to fight all of this, and instead just let Hotch win this time around because it was easier than making a big deal out of it. Inevitably, I was going to get back to work. Probably in about a year or so. And as shitty as that seemed, at least it meant I got to go back. Hotch could have totally insisted that I quit the FBI—though I knew he would never ask me to do that; so, at least he was giving me the chance to still work out of the field. I could live with that for the time being. However, what I needed to discuss with Hotch more than anything was his behavior and how he was going about protecting me, because I really didn’t need him to stifle me through all of this. After being trapped in that cabin in Hawai’i, I never wanted to be trapped anywhere ever again.

When I saw him turn the corner into the office a few hours later after they gave up on looking for Shane Wyland, I nodded sideways towards the doorway I was standing in, letting him know that I needed him to join me. He silently noticed. As the team patted each other on the back and celebrated getting the kid back safe and sound, Hotch quietly and politely excused himself from everyone. They didn’t seem to stop him. Reid saw what was going on, though, and he sent me a supportive smile that let me know I was doing the right thing.

Hotch walked past me into the room, and I closed the door behind him. “Aaron, we need to talk.” I sat down on the couch, but he leaned back against the table with his arms crossed over his chest. He was listening. “I understand that you’re just trying to do what you think is best for me. I know that you think that keeping me locked up in the tower will keep me safe. And I appreciate all of that. I really do. In fact, I love that you want to protect me and take care of me, but you need to realize that at some point, you need to take a step back. That I can’t be babied, Aaron. It’s not in my nature, and we both know that. I can’t have you hovering over my shoulder every second of every day while telling me that I can and can’t do my job. I can do this. It wasn’t unreasonable for me to go out and look for those kids, but it was unreasonable for me to ask to go looking for the Unsub in the city—I know that. I know myself and I know my limits. I’m not going to suddenly break just because I’m pregnant. I’m okay right now.

“When I need to take a step back from the field, I will do so without hesitation or argument; but until then, you need to keep letting me do my job the way I’m supposed to. I just need you to believe in me—"

“If I didn’t believe in you, we wouldn’t have gotten this far.”

“If you believe in me, then just… act like it! Why is it that I always have to go above and beyond to support you and your dreams, but I’m stifled because you’re scared? You believe in me, but you don’t—”

“You have always been able to do what you wanted, Y/N! I have done everything I can to restrain myself from being controlling in every aspect of our lives, despite the fact that it’s all I know. I grew up in a household where my father was controlling, manipulative, and abusive. That was how I learned to become a man, and I always thought that would work because I was young and naïve; but Haley left, and you came along— and you…” He took in a deep breath. “You have always been this wild and free spirit that I knew I couldn’t control, so I wanted to step back and let you thrive because I know you’re capable of so much, Y/N. Do you remember that I wouldn’t even fucking look at you when you joined the team because I was so fucking in love with you that I didn’t know how to stop myself from letting my feelings trump your dreams? But you came waltzing into my office, demanding answers, and the next thing I knew, you were meeting Jack and telling me that you love me. I have had to fight an inner battle every single day since meeting you between screaming from the top of my lungs how much I love you and want to hide you away from the cruelness of this world, and letting you spread your wings and flourish as an agent. You deserve every bit of happiness, and I know that a lot of that comes from your work, so I never want to step on your toes. But you’re my wife, Y/N. I made a vow to you that I would protect you, no matter what. And, you’re right… maybe I’m being more protective with you than I have with anyone in the past, but can you blame me? Dammit, with everything I’ve been through, can you blame me for not wanting to lose you, too?”

His eyes wandered to my stomach as he sat back down. “We’re having a baby, Y/N. I’m not just protecting you anymore, and you’re not just taking care of yourself anymore. What happens if you get shot, hmm? What happens if you get stabbed like Foyet did to me? What happens if you get taken again like in Hawai’i? What happens if I lose you like I lost Kate and Haley? Am I just supposed to pretend like I wouldn’t die without you here? Am I supposed to forget about you and the best few years of my life? Why do I have to pretend like I don’t care just to make you feel better about yourself? Since meeting you, I could never bear the thought of losing you, but now I can’t bear the thought of losing either of you,” he pressed a palm to my stomach. “Aren’t my feelings valid, too? Don’t I get a say in the safety of our child?” He cupped my face with his other hand. “Please don’t make me lose you, too. I won’t live if I lose you.” He sniffled as a tear slid down his cheek. I reached up and carefully wiped it away with my thumb. “I believe in you, Y/N, more than I even believe in myself…” He screwed his eyes shut as the tears started to fall faster. “But I don’t want to lose you because you’re too damn stubborn to just sit out of the field for a few months.” He sniffled again. “Why is it so hard for you to just understand that I love you so much that it hurts to even think about being away from you? Can’t you just accept that I want what’s best for you— I always have— and right now that means keeping you safe from any harm.”

I rested my forehead against his. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry, Y/N. I just need you to understand that I love you. More than anything.”

I kissed away a tear running down his cheek. “I know, baby.”

“If I didn’t believe in you… I couldn’t have stood before all of our friends and family a month ago, and said, ‘This is the person I can’t bear to lose. This is the one thing in my life I can’t lose.’ That’s what I thought we agreed on…”

He reached out and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me in for a hug so that he could hide his face in the crook of my neck. I tangled my fingers in his hair. I hadn’t meant to upset him, but I just needed him to know how I was feeling—but I had never stopped to ask myself how he was feeling, which was incredibly selfish of me.

“How about this,” I began offering carefully, waiting to see if he would stop me, but he didn’t, “when I start to show, I’ll stay back at the office with Garcia.” It wasn’t what I wanted, but if it made him feel better, I was willing to make that compromise.

He sniffled and sat up. We held each other’s faces, searching each other’s eyes, trying to find a reason that we shouldn’t agree to that. But there was no reason not to. If it were up to him, I would be sitting at home for the next few months, but that wasn’t reasonable for me; and if it were up to me, I would be in the field up until the day I was giving birth, but Hotch would never let that happen in a million years. At least, being at Quantico meant that I could still help with the cases and the profiles.

“The office or the house at any given moment,” he negotiated.

I shrugged and nodded.

“Okay.” He leaned in to kiss me before hugging me again, our chins tucked over each other’s shoulders. “I love you.”

I grabbed onto the fabric of his shirt on his back, feeling the way his broad shoulders tensed, and his breathing had slowed. I smiled lightly against him. We were going to be okay. “I love you, too.”

---------

criminal minds family: @peggy1999 @gorgeousdarkangel @alex--awesome--22 @oceaneblu @desperately-bisexual @brithedemonspawn @absolutemarveltrash @bshelley322 @rousethemouse @sunshinepower17 @weexinling @pettttyyyc​ @Braty-angel

[letteredlettered]

Hm, I think something went wrong with the message I sent you. So sorry! I'm trying again. It seems so frivolous to ask you a question but I'm in dire need of escapism after already one week of lockdown in Germany. I hope you are ok! I've only discovered your Drarry fics beginning of this month, love them! And "Another mask behind you is really lingering. I can't seem to get over it. Brilliant!

I’m sorry it took me so long to reply to you! I know lockdown is over in Germany, but I hope you made it through okay, and thank you so much for this ask.

Since the ask is very long and my answer even longer, I have placed the remaining portions of the ask and the response under this cut. The discussion is about Another Mask Behind You, which is a Harry/Draco I wrote that involves Draco being a sex worker. It also has elements of both non-con and dub-con. If any of these topics disturb you in fiction, please take heed if you check out the fic or read the reply. I do not think this ask or answer will make sense unless you have read the fic, which I can’t really say that I recommend, though there are parts of it I like.

The way you brilliantly use searing, toe-curling sex-scenes to draw me in, but because the drivers behind the intense need for both characters are not sexual, it’s never enough, NEVER ENOUGH, and I keep getting more and more frantic as the fic progresses, just like Draco. Well done :-)The way you disregard expected tropes and make the journey so much more complicated, so much more nuanced ….. well, so much more painful – it’s just incredibly rewarding. So painful, but so rewarding. (2/7)

The brilliant way you use the unreliable narrator, always delusionally speaking through his survival-shell of shame defense, his biased perception of reality in general and Potter specifically, but especially himself. And this confrontation-scene when he finally implodes into his shame – my god, do you really want to break my heart? Seriously? (3/7)

Then the way you capture the obviously intergenerationally transmitted Malfoy-steel-spine, the “holding on to the last thread of myself in impossible circumstances” - the emotions that invokes I can’t even put into words. There is so much more I want to say, but this format is too restricted. I postest a long comment on Archiveof OurOwns. I'm getting to my question :-) (4/7)

Another thing I adore about your writing is that you write powerful endings. This fic and “Away with childish things” are so, so psychologically satisfying but with quite a bit of narrative tension unresolved - so that I’m forced to spend joyful days with filling in the gaps.However, with one gap of this fic I’m really struggling and I would love to hear your take. (5/7)

I get the struggle with the betrayal and all, but as Draco so accurately puts it “So many unfamiliar expressions had he made in the last two times Draco had seen him, that Draco was no longer sure he’d ever really known him – as though in some sense, Potter had been playing a part as much as Draco had.”I don’t see any awareness develop in Harry regarding his obvious control-compulsion, the covert objectification hidden behind feelings of “love”, that made Tristan a “safe” partner. (6/7)

It will be so bitterly precarious for Harry (not so much Draco) to ever share this side of him within a power-balanced relationship, so risky and hazardous. Will he ever be able to work himself up there? It could be potentially so incredibly cathartic but I’m not so sure. Harry would need extensive aftercare, I guess. Would love to hear your head canon and thoughts? Do you have a story in your head how things would develop between these two? Thank you so much for your art! (7/7)

For those who are interested, I replied to the full comment on AO3. I’ve reproduced most of my answer below for those who are interested:

I'm glad you enjoy the unreliable narrator, and I’m very touched you like my stories.

Regarding my endings--thank you for your kind words, but I have to say most of my H/D fics do not end the way I plan. Most of them were written in a big rush to meet a fest deadline, including this one. I was not at all satisfied with the end of this fic, but I realized that to get satisfaction from it, I would either need to rewrite the fic or write a whole sequel, because the story of Harry and Draco working toward a healthy relationship is not this fic. This fic is about getting them to a point where they might even want to work on a healthy relationship, and so by the time I got finished there was just not room to write the other things I wanted and I didn’t have time to fix it because of the deadline.

I think Harry could get to the point where he would bottom for Draco. I also think he could get to the point where there is a balance of power in their relationship. I think it would take much longer for him to get to the point where he would say that the reason he was comfortable with Tristan was because he held all the power. I honestly believe that that understanding would not come intuitively for him, that he would either need therapy or many many years to get there, possibly both.

I'm guessing you saw this, as you quoted the part about his unfamiliar expressions, but part of the point is supposed to be that Harry is lying to himself just as much as Draco, just in different ways. The way Harry sees things is:  Tristan as an essentially good person with many great qualities. Tristan's snobbery and selfishness and arrogance and entitlement and pettiness seem to be his flaws, but because Harry sees Tristan as good, Harry can accept these flaws. This leads Harry to not take the flaws very seriously--he feels they are surface attributes of someone who is deep down good. He even finds these flaws charming. When Harry finds out Draco is Tristan, because Harry believes Draco is not a good person, he takes the flaws seriously. He no longer sees them as surface attributes and takes them as evidence of Draco's deep down horrible character.

I think that because Harry still wants Draco so viscerally even after everything, and because Harry can still see all the ways that Draco is Tristan despite Draco's betrayal, Harry begins to understand that this is a very simplistic view of people and the world. Just because we're on the side that is against the side of the genocidal bigots does not make us fundamentally good, and being fundamentally good does not make our flaws light and fluffy and charming. And just because we're on the side of the genocidal bigots does not mean that nothing can be good in us, that everything you found good and lovely in us was a complete lie. Eventually, Harry learns  that Draco is a whole person, neither good nor bad in essence, just really someone who has done lots of horrible things, but has the capacity to grow beyond that. And as Draco does grow beyond that, Harry begins to love him as a whole person, rather than a black and white one.

This is the story that Harry sees and thinks that he experiences as he learns to love Draco.

However, I do believe there's another story under that, and that story is possibly one that Harry never understands.This story is about power, as you mention, but it's also about the depth of Harry's delusion. The main premise that drives this under-story is why Harry was so willing to believe Tristan was, in essence, good. Why was he so willing to see Tristan's faults as charming, when some of Tristan's snootier comments actually suggest some underlying pure-blood bigotry?

The answer is that Harry wanted to believe that. He wanted a person who wasn't real, and Tristan having flaws just made Tristan feel more real, even though he wasn't. And why does Harry want a fake? Because Harry doesn't want to be real either. He doesn't want to really share himself, or give pieces of himself he doesn't want to; he doesn't want to stop being a hero or spend time that may make himself face himself and who he is. In this fic, Harry is someone who does not know how to love except to perform acts of service, which I find believable because so much of his friendships were built on saving each other and working together to save others. He does not know how to relax, which I also find believable given all the abuse and hardship. This leads to repression and difficulty seeing to his own needs, which in this fic leads to him becoming quite controlling. In this fic he wants to relax; he wants to stop and take time with himself and those he loves, but he has become so pent-up that he doesn't know how to relax without being forced to do it.

However, being forced to relax is a loss of control, and the Harry of this fic is too messed up to find a way to do it straightforwardly. Thus, for him, hiring a sex worker means he is in control of the situation on one level, but can let go of control on another level. The fact that he wants to bottom right away with Tristan but took a long time with Weatherby (his ex in this fic) is further evidence of the fact that Harry is really only okay with ceding this control because he has a different kind of control over what is happening. It's the same, actually, with Tristan demanding that Harry not work so much and spend time with him. Harry wouldn't like it if a non-sex-worker-boyfriend were asking the same thing, because he wouldn't feel that he ultimately had control of the situation.

So, again, no, I do not think Harry would admit any of this or understand it about himself without a lot of work and time.

However, I'm just not sure he has to for Draco and him to have a happy, healthy relationship.

I think the story Harry tells himself--that he saw Tristan as good, Draco as bad, and that this is ultimately too simplistic--is actually enough for Harry to begin to let go of some of this control. Harry would have to realize, with this understanding that people are not black and white, that he wanted to spoil Tristan not just because Tristan was morally good, but because he likes to spoil people. Harry would have to realize that he enjoyed Tristan being selfish and demanding not just because Tristan was morally pristine, but because Harry actually gets hot for that kind of behavior. Harry would have to realize he enjoyed Tristan topping the fuck out of him not just because Tristan was morally flawless, but because Harry just really likes to get fucked and fucked hard. With Draco, Harry wants the happiness he had with Tristan. To get it, Harry has to allow some of the behavior that happened with Tristan, without that extra veneer of control Harry once had because Tristan was a sexworker that Harry was paying.

Draco would learn from this too--that he can still be himself, that he can still be demanding, that he can still fuck Harry. And with that would come more self-acceptance for Draco and more confidence, which would actually help him grow to become more like Tristan was. And that would make Harry more accepting as well. I think eventually they could have something that approximates a lot of the love and comfort and domesticity they felt during the month Harry contracted Draco, but it would be without lies, and without control, and without attempts to manipulate each other.

I think for that, Harry would not need to know that the reason it worked for him was because he had all the power.

I do feel like Draco probably understands it very well. I could see a long time after they finally become quite comfortable with each other, them lying in bed after fucking, Draco finally saying, "You do know you were only okay with me doing that to you at first because you were paying me." And Harry would say, "No, it's because you lied to me and had a different face." And Draco would say, "Mm-hm," and trace the circle on Harry's chest, and then eventually say, "It's also because you were paying me. You wouldn't have let anyone else do those things I did." And Harry would say, "I don't think you understand how attracted I was to you." And Draco would say, "Mm-hm," and trace some more. "But it was also because you were paying me," Draco would say finally. "You knew you were in control." And then I think Harry would finally think about it, but it would be so long ago, that finally he could say something like, "Yeah. I don't know. I guess you're right." "I'm always right," Draco would say, and Harry would find this charming too.

I hope I answered this very interesting question to your satisfaction, and sorry again for the wait!

[isthatbloodonhisshirt]

If you could change ten things about Teen Wolf what would you change??

OMG BUCKLE DOWN BECAUSE IT’S GONNA BE A LONG ONE! Do asks have a word limit? Guess we gonna find out! (Sometimes I wish I could speak these replies, they sound much funnier when I am speaking out loud to myself and then they are just weird and flat typed up but I DIGRESS! I do that a lot, have you noticed? Doesn’t matter.)

(Also, I did put a “Keep Reading” but for some reason it’s not working. Or it’s not showing as working on my end. But it’s right under this paragraph I swear so if it’s not working, that isn’t on me....)

1) SO! Trauma. People be dealing with their traumas. That’d be a thing I’d like, thank you. Like, I’m sorry, but there is a fuckton of trauma in this show and everyone like, goes to bed at night and wakes up cured. Like MAGIC! I mean, yes, I get that magic is a thing in the show (is it? I mean kind of? Idk, I never saw past season 4, they alluded to magic and then SNATCHED THAT AWAY so, side-note, that’s coming up later!) But yes, I would’ve very much liked for people to, you know, deal with their traumas in a realistic fashion. Let’s get some therapy going, or like, idk, some actual negative reactions to thing! They kind of had that with Stiles every now and then, but he seemed to be up and down episode to episode so like, it’d be like they wrote an episode where he reacts to what happened to him and then four episodes have gone by where he’s fine and the writers were like “OH YEAH SHIT HE JUST MURDERED LIKE A WHOLE HOSPITAL, make him have a panic attack randomly over dropping milk, that balances out, excellent, we’re so smart.” So yes. DEAL. WITH. THE. TRAUMA! Thanks.

2) LESS CHARACTERS, MORE DEVELOPMENT! I mentioned this in another recent ask about relationships but like, they just kept shoving characters in there. Like one of those clown cars. So we got like, 30% character development on the core group and then the rest was like “wait, who are you again?” Like, legit, I have a bad memory, you put too many people in front of me, I ain’t gonna remember them unless they have a good personality or a reason to be there. And like, develop their relationships! Not even romantically, but like, Scott’s mom loves Scott, that is sweet and lovely, but like, we never really… see… that… developed? Idk man, like again, I have a bad memory, but when you really develop relationships WELL (ex: Brooklyn-nine-nine), that shit sticks with you and you CARE about people. The friendships are important, and the familial relationships are important and just developing all the dynamics is important! They spent more time showcasing how much everyone hated each other and lied to each other and stuff and that just got really tiring. Yes, you’re allowed to get mad at your friends, but if you’re a Werewolf, and your human friend is calling you when there is a fucking monster running around killing people, can you maybe stop making out with your girlfriend and answer your phone so your friend isn’t treading water with a 200+ pound Werewolf for 2 hours? Like, JUST SAYING! (Spoiler alert: Me and Scott would not be close friends. Like, I think we’d be friends, but not so much that I’d trust him with my life. If I wanted to grab pizza and a movie, maybe play some video games, he sounds like a treat, but if my life was in danger, thanks I be callin’ someone who answers their phone).

3) Actual consequences for their actions! Okay like, I am also guilty of this in fanfic, but at the same time, my writing is free, I don’t get paid for it, and I write what I want because that’s how it works, so I can do whatever I please (If I wanna make the Hales royalty for the millionth time, ain’t nobody gonna stop me!). But like, when you are a legit paid screenwriter who is writing a show? Consequences! Just because it’s a show about Werewolves doesn’t mean there can’t be any consequences! Like, the best scene, and I feel like we can agree, because fuck it like, hurt my soul and my heart and I was just so like ;~; was when the sheriff got fired (fired? suspended? TEMPORARILY UNEMPLOYED!) because Stiles stole a police van when they locked Jackson up in it. Like, that shit was REAL LIFE CONSEQUENCES for actions, and that shit was intense and it HURT and omg I loved it! Give me more of that! Like, I’m sorry, but you gonna tell me Nogistune!Stiles walked through the hospital murdering a bazillion people and not one camera was working the whole time? Not one? Nobody saw that? Nobody went “hey, isn’t that the sheriff’s kid?” Like, CAN. YOU. IMAGINE?! That would’ve been so amazing, a bunch of episodes of the pack scrambling to keep the Supernatural a secret while also trying to stop Stiles from GETTING ARRESTED because saying “Sorry ma’am, I was possessed by a demon fox who likes chaos and thought murdering a bunch of people would be fun” ain’t gonna fly in court and the FBI sure isn’t gonna believe that but like, UGH! Again, bad memory, but was the fact that Dark!Stiles wandered through the hospital killing people EVER brought up again???? CONSEQUENCES. Woulda really liked that.

4) STOP with unnecessary romances. Like, yeah, I get it, the allos like their romances, but shockingly, you can still have a good show without focussing on the romance. Like, it can be there, I’m not saying don’t put it in, I’m saying DON’T MAKE IT THE MOST IMPORTANT THING! Like, the entirety of season one was Scott chasing Allison and Stiles chasing Lydia. This… this does not make an interesting show? Like, is that just me? And then as the season progressed, EVERYONE had to be in a relationship? WHY? Again, haven’t seen past season four, but I mean, I know Scott and Kira were a thing, and then Stiles and Malia, and Liam and some… person? Idk. And Ethan and Danny (congrats Jeff, you get to tick your “I had representation in my show!” box, well done, gold star, or whatever). And Isaac and Allison, and Melissa and Chris (apparently?). And then Stydia was alluded as being canon, and Scott ended up with Malia somehow?? And Derek slept with half the town and all of Mexico, idek. Like, stop it. Stop. Shows work without everything being about everyone banging each other. (See again: Brooklyn-nine-nine, or Avatar the Last Airbender, or The Good Place, or even fucking Supernatural!) You can have a good, interesting story without everyone banging each other. It ain’t necessary.

5) More actual storytelling (again, this woulda worked better without the unnecessary romances taking up 49 of the 50 minutes of air-time). Like, yes, I get it, pilot’s gotta have some pizzaz! Gotta be spicy and sparkly to make people interested (and like, fucking hell, all I can remember of the pilot is sobbing Allison soaking wet–LIKE, WAS THAT NECESSARY???–about the dog she hit and oh noes is it dead well thank God the lead character works for a vet! And somehow has keys and access to the whole clinic like nbd at all hours? Whatever. I wasn’t even allowed inside my blockbuster as a shift lead if it was off-hours but apparently a high school student doing paperwork at a vet clinic is different, I’m not a vet so what do I know? I HAD A BAD DAY OKAY, I GOT FEELINGS ABOUT THIS RN!) I went off-topic, what was I saying? Oh yes, storytelling. You know what woulda been nice? Werewolves! It happens, we find out about Laura, we find out about Werewolves, Scott gets bitten, all that jazz. And then like… ease in the Hunters? Like, why was there Laura/Derek, Peter, AND the Hunters all crammed into the pilot? Yes, I get it, you need the SUSPENSE and the DRAMA, but you can do that without the Hunters right off the bat. Just, how CONVENIENT~ that the same day Derek and Laura come back, Hunters move to town? That’s just lazy, and again, I can be guilty of laziness, I admit to it, but I literally get paid in—like, do hearts count? I get paid in hearts and pats on the back for my fics, I can write whatever I want. If you’re getting paid to write something, try a bit harder, yes? Yes???

What number am I on? Oh good Lord, I got things to say, okay.

6) MAGIC! Can you like—I feel like this one is self-explanatory. Stiles did the whole mountain ash thing in season one, and it was SO PROMISING, and then that just died. It died like Maes Hughes getting shot in a phonebooth (spoiler, but really, you haven’t seen that yet, that’s a you problem). Why even bother introducing magic if you weren’t gonna use it? Like, was it because people like Stiles more than Scott and the showrunner was like “nonono. If we make him magic, he’s TOO cool, and then Scott is unimportant.” I mean, you coulda worked that in your favour, but no. You just murdered the fuck out of it, like straight up took it out back and shot it. Like, yeah, Derek went kiddo again and Jennifer was apparently all magic beauty spell or whatever, but like?? That’s it??? You had a show about Werewolves and you didn’t even try to make it more interesting by making some of the characters magic? Lydia’s basically the closest and they didn’t even explain her powers that well. Magic would’ve been dope and they totally shoved that to the side. That was dumb. Shoulda done something with that.

7) Explain things more? Don’t mention them once and then do nothing? Like, we got some brief stuff about anchors, and emissaries (which are super duper secret according to Deaton but then like, EVERYONE KNOWS HE IS EMISSARY SO WHICH IS IT DEATON? YOU TELL ME!) Like, they had so much opportunity to talk about so many things and again, maybe that comes out more in the later seasons, idk, but they likely coulda done with more explanations and they didn’t and this angers me GREATLY. They mention something once and then it never comes up again. That’s some Lost bullshit right there. Don’t start something if you’re not gonna commit. You tell me the beginning of the story, I wanna fucking know the end, don’t forget halfway through and wander away, that ain’t right, I NEED ANSWERS JEFF! And like, as above, never really got Lydia’s powers. I know what a Banshee is, but her powers did NOT make sense to me. Idk, could just be that I’m dumb, but similarly, don’t write something so convoluted that it confuses people, that is also dumb. As dumb as I am so like, well done there. And also do we get more on Parrish? I know he’s a Hellhound, but how does one get born a Hellhound and not know until you are conveniently lit on fire by someone trying to kill you for money? (Also, you bean, you absolute treasure, “I’m worth five dollars?” You’re so cute. Silly child.) I feel like being a Hellhound is something that woulda come up before getting barbecued in his cruiser. Like, he works a stressful job, you gonna tell me not ONCE while getting shot at he didn’t have a massive heart attack over a close call and like, burst into flames? No? Is that just a me thing? I feel like the slightest annoyance and I’d be fully on fire, not gonna lie. (I’d be on fire a LOT… CLEARLY I AM AN ANGRY PERSON! No, that’s not true. No yes it is, I am angry, but more angry lately because I’m sleep-deprived and work is dumb ANYWAY back to this)

8) EMBRACE THE SIDE CHARACTERS! Okay, so MAYBE Scott is meant to be the golden child. The Dick Grayson of the show, if you will. The original Robin, the creme de la creme. That’s all fine and dandy if he is, no judgement (little judgement), but you know what you don’t do when your side characters are getting a lot of attention and love? What you DO NOT do is give them less screen time. Because then you’re being petty and, shockingly, you get more positive results when you give the fans what they want. I’m not talking about pairings, because everyone is different, and you can’t cater to everyone, but like, the more people moved away from liking Scott, the harder the showrunners pushed him into our faces. And like, that isn’t how this works. If I like side character 87 a lot, and the lead’s getting annoying, you know what’s gonna make me NOT watch the show? Cutting out side character 87 (hey, for shits and gigs, let’s call him DANNY, just, not coincidentally at all) and then just shoving the lead into my face. That is what makes someone go “Well, four seasons is enough, I can happily live knowing I didn’t waste my life watching two more of them.” Like??? I’m not saying cut out Scott, because the show is ABOUT Scott, but the more everyone tried to showcase how amazing and wonderful and pure and perfect he was, the more annoying it got? Like, Scott has flaws. THEY ALL HAVE FLAWS! If you don’t admit that they all have flaws, it gets boring, and you hate the characters. I know that Scott turned into a douche later (apparently, again, haven’t seen it), but even in the early seasons by trying to make him this pure True Alpha golden angel child who spreads love and hope and trusts everyone, it just got boring. He was vanilla, and also a bad friend, because he was too “perfect” to be around someone “imperfect” like Stiles, and even like, the rest of the pack overall. He was always put on a pedestal and it made the show really… irksome? Idk, I just feel like yes, SCOTT is the Teen Wolf, but you added all these damn side characters, maybe use them a bit more? At least Stiles was interesting, and Lydia was fucking badass, and fucking hell, if you’d done right by Boyd and Erica, the actors wouldn’t have left for better shows so like, come on man, you coulda done better. We coulda had such a dope show, why you gotta crush my dreams like that Jeff? What did I ever do to you?

I know this is only eight, but this is long enough, if I go two more, this is gonna be IN.SANE. And also it’s late and I haven’t finished my fic for the day (I mean, I’m almost done, but I’m not done yet!) So like, I’ma stop here. But yes, hopefully this answered your question. Sorry I got REALLY PASSIONATE about it but it’s been a day.

Also, I feel this needs to be said, but obviously these are my own personal opinions, and as opinions, you are not obligated to agree with them. But you are also not allowed to tell me my opinion is wrong. You can disagree with it, but this is an opinion, not a law, so there is no right and wrong. Don’t @ me, my day’s been bad enough kthx!

HAVE A GOOD NIGHT, BE BACK IN LIKE TWENTY(?) MINUTES!

[friiday-thirteenth]

guys im bored hear abt how i broke my arm. TW for broken bones, dissassociation, vomiting, drugs and needles. Also this is like. Therapy. Idk.

weird thing about it was that i was feeling intense happiness, because I’d just confirmed my classes for the next year and i was jsut. Really happy.

So i did this little twirly thing??? idk. Anyway, my ankle went out under my, i put my hand back and crack.

I know there was a definite seperation between the before and after of this. Like, the adrenaline made it feel like I was aware of everything.

After I fell, and after the crack, I stood up fast. I didn’t realise my wrist was fucked until I saw it - and it wasn’t a compound fracture, the skin was still unbroken. But it looked fucking nasty. It was supposed to be held straight, but the wrist was shifted.... up. And it was floppy, but I could control it if I wanted to be in immense amounts of pain.

I started walking over to my P.E. teacher. I said his name once, really loudly - and then he didn’t hear me, so I kept walking. I was cradling my wrist against my body at this point, and I just needed to move. It helped distract from my pain at that point.

When I reached him and he saw my wrist he was like fuck. He didn’t say it, but I could see it, and he said, “ Okay, we need to get you to the sickbay and call your parents.”

Okay, this happened before that when I was walking over. One of the people who was around me had walked beside me and was asking questions, and I straight up said, “Ruby, if you don’t walk away right now, I will either scream or burst into tears and scream, please go away.” I couldn’t handle anyone being near me.

Then when we were walking off the turf (where we were doing P.E. that day, as opposed to the gym.) one of the guys saw my arm and was like holy shit and I’m 99% sure I just looked at him with a really worried look. My face was going white I’m pretty sure, which is weird because I’m naturally flushed quite a lot of the time.

We had to walk up stairs. That fucking sucked. The pain was fine whenever it wasn’t jolting me, and we were walking fast, so you can imagine how I was trying to be very careful.

I’m 99% sure I was terrified that I was going to tip over again, and that would’ve hurt. I was just focusing on staying on my feet.

We got to the office/sickbay and they sat me down. I made myself get my retainer out of my mouth because it was.... foreign. I was going to - I’d say have a panic attack, but I’m not sure that’s the correct name for it - do something bad if I kept it in, because there was something already wrong with me and I just couldn’t handle it.

Also I asked if I could swear. Like, “Um, would it be okay if I, uh, swore?” and the person in there with me looked at me like wtf child and said i could.

Later, one of the teachers who’d walked by told me that they had no idea I had that filthy a mouth on me. Swearing helped a lot.

They made me put my wrist in this makeshift sling thing, which made me want to fucking cry. They sent someone to get my bag, and I told them to leave as soon as they’d gotten it, because I couldn’t handle any of my peers seeing my like that. probably because I felt extremely vulnerable.

I never swore at anyone. I can remember not wanting to, because I didn’t feel that they deserved it? Like, I didn’t want to take my pain out on them. Very strange.

They didn’t give me any panadol or nuramol or nurofen (pretty sure that isn’t how you spell it but eh). I can remember that, because they said that it might react badly to whatever drugs they gave me in the hospital.

When my mum got there, we went over to the car and I put my seatbelt on myself bc im independant like that, before I rolled my head back and scream-said to my mother to hurry up please I feel like I’m dying. Because she was talking to my teacher.

At that point I was being a melodramatic shit, because my pain level I think? was a four, unless I moved my arm, then it jolted into a six.

Anyway. I sung/murmured hamilton songs really fast as we drove the like, five minutes to the hospital because that helped distract me from the pain.

When we got to the hospital and the emergency room, we ended up waiting like 20 minutes which were all hell. My dad came at one point and I told mum he needed to leave because I couldn’t handle having him there. Not for any bad reasons, just that I fucking hated dealing with people and if I had to deal with him I’d cry.

I didn’t cry at any point during this, which was weird. I didn’t like that.

Someone gave me two panadol or something, which didn’t help in the least. They got mum to fill out an acc form - I can remember her asking me things. The pain was bad, like a constant throbbing that was there. I’m pretty sure I started not being there at some point during the time I was waiting. It was easier than dealing with it all, because there were people staring at me and my arm and I wanted to scream at them because none of them were as bad as me and why the fuck are you staring at me.

Anyway. When the nurse came - she was really nice - she got me into a room and to sit on a bed, and then we waited for what was maybe half an hour? There was an old guy dying or nearly dying in the room beside mine and I felt like.... weird because of it. It didn’t feel right, that he was dying.

When they got me a doctor - after me scaring the shit out of a nurse who I thought was a doctor  (i still cringe at the memory) - he ws really nice. He was wearing a haiwaiian shirt and was supposed to be going home, and I was quite lucky that they’d caught him as he was leaving.

They got me on some nitrous oxide to calm me down, or to take the pain away.

Now here’s where thigns get a little less linear, I think.

I can’t remember when they put the I.V. in, whether it was before or after the x-ray. The x-ray was hell, because they made me put my munted arm flat on the cold surface of whatever the fuck they were using for the xray. I had dropped the nitrous oxide tube thingy out of my mouth at that point.

The nitrous oxide was nice. It made me feel tired, and when the dude stuck the needle in my arm and then put the I.V. in, I didn’t care about it. I hadn’t been worried before, perse, just uncomfortable because of the whole broken wrist dealie.

Anyway. X-rays. They said I’d broken the tip off my radius. Then the I.V. Then they got an anathesiologist to come in and explain what was going to happen to me.

This whole time they’d explain exactly what they were going to do, because I asked. A lot. I needed to know what was happening so that then I would know what was going on and that was jus tme reiterating what I’d just said ahaha

Anyway. He explained the options, and in the end they decided to give me ketamine.

For those who don’t know, ketamine is a horse tranquilizer. Its also fucking nasty, coming back up from it.

Mum signed a waiver stating that the hospital wasn’t responsible if I died or something.

This was because, as they explained, ketamine shuts off a part of the brain. If too much of it is used, then you die because it shuts off your breathing, your heart, etc. They had shit that would stop that, if anything bad happened. They put electrodes on me at one point. At least, I think that’s what they were called.

They also might’ve upped the dosage, because what could’ve happened was that they fucked up setting my arm the first time, and they had to cut it out and redo it. If they’d redone it, I’d’ve had to go into theatre.

The whole time this was happening I was terrified I was going to out myself to my mum. I have an odd track record of saying weird shit randomly while I’m in pain.

Ketamine also takes you into a dreamland, which is why drug addicts can get addicted. You basically lucid dream, but way more intensely than normal, if you’ve ever ahd a lucid dream. Or it can take you into an absolutely hellish nightmare scape, if you aren’t thinking good things when you go under.

I had neither. I didn’t even know I’d gone under. What happpened was that they put the ketamine in the I.V., and a minute late I was out.

It felt like blinking. When I opened my eyes, it was like in movies where they blink and its a new scene each time.

Blink. They were moving me to the x-ray. My head ached. My eyes wouldn’t focus. Someone was talking about their car.

Blink. They were moving my arm.

Blink. They were moving me back to the room I’d been in.

Every time I moved my head, it just. It was on another side. I couldn’t focus my eyes for three quarters of an hour. I felt tired, and sleepy, and like shit.

Thye got me to sit up at one point. I nearly vomited. They gave me a pill. It was chalky and the taste was nasty.

When they got me to move from the bed to a chair, I vomited.

I hadn’t eaten for longer than six hours, at that point. It was bile coming up. It burnt my throat. I couldn’t stop.

When I forced myself to breathe again and stop vomiting, they gave me water and left me for a minute. They had people they needed to get in the room, I think, so I was trying to move. They got me into a chair in a bit that was in between the x-ray room and where I’d been. Mum talked with someone else who was there with her daughter.

The cast was big and white, because of the type of break. It was heavy and they put me in a sling when I left. I was able to walk straight. They’d been concerned I wouldn’t be. I’m pretty sure I thanked everyone who’d helped, if I saw them.

Mum took me to get subway. Then we went home.

My sibling had broken their arm around about a year and two weeks before I’d broken mine. Their’s had been the two bones in their lower arm. They’d had to go into theatre for it and have trauma around it. My parents won’t get them to go to therapy and they won’t go willingly

When I got home, they had a panic attack or some shit and started screaming at me when I was short at them. Fuck them for that.

I went into a room and started messaging my friends. i videocalled them and showed them my arm. i was acting all stupid and weird about it by being really silly and stuff. I didn’t feel like any of it was happening, even though I knew it was. At some point I found out I had the electrode thingies still on me. I pulled them off.

People were so concerned about me, it was weird. I ended up responding to them individually as opposed to not. Someone thought that it was a joke and that everyone was lying about it. I gave them a play-by-play and they believed it then.

Even weeks after it happened, it still felt vaguely not real. The first time I cried about it was seven days after, when I tried and failed to make homemade macaroni and cheese.

I learnt that the chunk of bone beside the wrist - the one down at the top of the ulna - had completely seperated from the rest of the bone.

All the wrist bones and muscles had pulled back, which was my wrist had been so weird.

Everyone who helped me was really nice. I’m glad that they were nice, because I got told later about doctors who were bitches and were in the emergency department. Also got told that ketamine was really fucking weird for them to be giving me.

I got prescribed Tramadol. Mum and dad wouldn’t let me take any of it. my sibling had been prescribed it when they’d broken their arm. they’d taken it. Apparently tramadol can put you in a depressive state.

i don’t know what would’ve happened to me if I’d taken it at that point. even before the arm my head was in a bad place. I’m better now though.

I pushed through the pain on panadol.

I broke my arm on a friday. saturday, sunday, I spent at home. Monday I went to school. Felt like passing out at some point.

Yeah, that’s basically what happened when I broke my arm

[lizacstuff]

Do you think they will write Selin out if this show goes beyond ~25 episodes? She has no purpose on this show anymore except attempts at hurting EdSer and when they get back together for reals, there will REALLY be no point. Ferit has moved on, she sold almost all of her shares and I'm waiting for Serkan to ask her to leave the company altogether. (And she seems like she hates being there anyway?) or I guess I will hope Bige Onal finds another project and leaves cause she must dislike Selin too

Selin lost her damn mind, ya’ll!  Wow, they went full on crazy ex-girlfriend with her, didn’t they?  However, was there a more satisfying scene than Serkan ripping up at her? Damn, that felt good. Gotta sting to hear that he never loved her, but can it really be a surprise? I mean she’s been watching how he acts when he’s in love and it bears no resemblance to how he was with her. She should have caught on long before he had to yell it at her in anger to drive the point home. 

You ask an interesting question, I’m not sure what they do with her if the show goes beyond its current episode order. (Last week, I read that they ordered 6 more). First let me address the question of Bige potentially wanting to leave because she “must dislike Selin too.” Come on, that’s not how this works. Actors like to have paying jobs and they like to play interesting characters, often it’s more fun for them if the characters are a bit darker or “bad,” so thinking she would want to leave because her character is going down a nefarious path is probably an erroneous assumption. 

Although, she might want to leave because of wardrobe!! LMAO. The costumers are having a good time making Selin look as ridiculous as possible, aren’t they? First the Judy Jetson jumpsuit and then all the other ladies were put in bangin’ dresses for the fashion show that showed them all to their best advantage, but Selin gets stuck walking the runway in an old curtain. It was probably the most “fashion” dress, but since the point of that scene was to see all the men drool, she really got the short-end of the stick (not that any of the male characters would have dropped-their-jaw over her).

I’m trying to figure out what the writers are doing with her, and I think this goes back to something I said last week. Selin has probably never been thwarted in her entire life. She grew up rich, privileged and sheltered and probably got whatever she wanted, when she wanted it. Now she’s lost a lot, she’s been humiliated in a myriad of ways, her “heart” (but I still doubt she has one, or feels all that deeply, I think it’s more about pride and getting her way) has been broken, and the future(s) she envisioned have gone up in smoke. She’s spiraling hard core, and she has no idea how to deal with this adversity. And she’s so self-centered that she doesn’t know how to look inward and examine the part she played in any of this and so she’s just lashing out and looking for people to blame. It probably hasn’t occurred to her that these petty things she’s doing, things that in the long run are going to make no different whatsoever, are going to cause her to lose even more.  

If Serkan finds out that she leaked the breakup-- along with the vile lie he cheated on Eda-- to the tabloids, I can’t imagine how she could keep her PR job. Talk about self-sabotage, she proved she can’t be trusted and that professionally she’s causing more problems than she fixes. No way she can stay on, at least not at the 50% of her job that was at Art Life where she doesn’t have an ownership stake. 

If it becomes known that she interfered with Eda by sending her to the wrong restaurant, I don’t think that does much to her relationships with Eda or Serkan because they’re both already past done with her personally, but it could serve to damage the rest of her relationships though. Piril, namely. It’s hard to tell because of the translations, but it seemed to me that Piril was side-eyeing Selin’s Eda/Serkan smacktalk through the whole episode, so if she finds out the unhinged and unprincipled way she interfered with them, I can’t imagine that friendship surviving. 

Once grandma arrives, they could keep her around to play spoiler with her 5%? If Serkan tries to fire her from the holding after finding out what she did, Grandma could vote with her to keep her on?? I’m not sure why, unless Grandma sees her as a useful ally if she wants to try and part Serkan and Eda. Other than that, I don’t know what purpose she can serve. 

Selin has really made herself irredeemable unless she gets serious help. Like check herself into a facility and get intensive therapy kind of help. I mean think about how self-centered, how devoid of empathy, one would have to be to try and make Eda even more miserable after knowing that she just learned how her parents were killed and how that secret destroyed so much for her. Especially when Selin played a role in her finding out in a very upsetting, abrupt way. Like what, Selin, the penniless orphan is prettier than you and the boy likes her better? Abhorrent. 

[turnabout4what]

You used to be diagnosed with ADHD, but then got diagnosed with autism, right? Aside from needing a lot of time to recharge after social stuff, can I ask what kinds of things tipped you off as to the difference? My psychiatrist is looking at an ASD diagnosis for me after years of being labeled ADHD... and I don’t really know what to think. If this is too personal feel free to ignore it!

I’m still diagnosed with ADD, but I’m strongly suspected of having autism. I haven’t been able to pursue a diagnosis because of COVID, but I’ve been in therapy for both. Before I answer your question, I’m going to go over the overlap between ASD and ADD, because you can work on these things regardless of the diagnosis. It’s very stressful to not have a clear idea of what you’re “supposed” to be experiencing!

1.      RSD, or Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria. Do you feel physical pain whenever a stranger on the internet implies you’re a bad person? You may have this common symptom of ASD and ADD.

2.      Difficulties with executive functioning. Lots of people have trouble motivating themselves to do things, but ADD and ASD make it even harder!

3.      Emotional regulation. You may become angry or anxious very easily, and you may be oversensitive. This often comes with impulsivity, especially in ADD.

4.      Hyperfocusing. Do you ever start cleaning your room and then find yourself unable to stop? This frequently is accompanied by forgetting to eat. Generally, this happens with things that you enjoy doing, but when I’m stressed, it often involves cleaning.

5.      Being prone to addiction. This can be drugs, or it can be video games or any number of things that give you a boost of dopamine. Additionally, you may get short-term obsessions. Watching a TV show may be incredibly stressful unless you can binge the entire thing in one weekend.

6.      Not being able to make and keep friends in elementary school. I was great at making friends, but I could never keep them. Combined with RSD, this was devastating.

7.      A lack of focus on work and school. Notably, if you also have anxiety, you may still be able to pull off good grades by using your anxiety to rein in your focus. I was once told by a psychiatrist who sat down with me for only ten minutes that kids with executive dysfunction couldn’t have a 4.0 GPA and that he didn’t believe I had trouble focusing. Two appointments later, he apologized and officially diagosed me with ADD. There’s a reason I don’t totally trust his diagnosis. I do find it interesting and relieving that your psychiatrist is looking at an ASD diagnosis; a lot of psychiatrists don’t consider that a possibility if you weren’t diagnosed in early childhood.

8.      Forgetting deadlines, leaving things you needed at home, and generally being an organizational disaster by neurotypical standards. My third grade teacher gave me the “tornado award” in front of the entire class to publicly shame me for how messy my desk was.

 Now, to answer your question, here are the things that stood out as being indicators of me having ASD:

1.      ASD runs in my family. My dad didn’t speak until the age of 6, and my younger brother was diagnosed as autistic when he was about two years old.

2.      I have a sensory disorder that frequently interferes with my everyday life. I’m the type who can’t be inside of a candle store for more than 10 minutes because the smells are too overwhelming. At homecoming and prom, I could be found as far away from the speakers as possible, wishing the evening would end and we could all go home. Interestingly, my issue isn’t with volume, but with how unfamiliar a sound is—I went to a TOP concert with intense earplugs in. For the opening band, I got so sick that I went to the bathroom and curled up in a ball with my hands over my ears. But when TOP started playing, I was able to take my earplugs out and I felt perfectly fine. Notably, I know every lyric to every TOP song on Spotify, and I’d never heard the opening band before.

3.      People who are AFAB and high intelligence frequently don’t show the standard signs of ASD due to how we’re socialized as infants. If you’ve ever stood in a mirror and practiced making facial expressions and hand gestures, it’s a sign you intellectually learned how to act neurotypical. Most people pick up on that intuitively.

4.      I only recently discovered that when someone asks, “How are you?” you’re supposed to ask them that question back. I always hated when people asked me that, since I was expected to say that I was doing well, so I never returned it. I didn’t realize that was rude. I still occasionally find things that are considered basic communication that I never realized.

5.      My dad was physically abused as a child whenever he showed symptoms of ASD, and unfortunately that meant my younger brother and I were verbally abused any time we stimmed, talked about our special interests, or reacted strongly to sensory stimuli. Because of this, I didn’t indulge my childhood special interest until I was well into college: insects. As soon as I started taking classes about insects, I occasionally scared classmates and even professors! I’m normally a soft and smiley person, but when I’m hyperfocused on something that really interests me, I fall into a certain state that my friends have described as “intense.”

6.      Stimulant ADD medications like Adderall and Vyvanse did not work for me. They made me more anxious and didn’t improve my focus well. You know what did work? Wellbutrin. My doctor actually just upped my Wellbutrin dose and I feel incredible

This was extremely long, but hopefully helpful! Note that all of the problems I’ve had with my ASD or ADD came from surrounding myself with people who never tried to understand me. Now I have friends who plan events with my sensory sensitivities in mind, who point out my mistakes without making me feel rejected, and who are excited to see me even when I’m 15 minutes late… again. Neither diagnosis means there’s something wrong with you. It just means people have to put in a little extra work to understand you, and I promise you’ll find people who know you’re worth that extra work.

Best wishes, anon!