#when its gone good luck finding a similar space

[fruitsgoblin]

re: the latest tumblr news

is it really that shocking or alarming to people that the site is being put on a skeleton crew? no it's not dying, but it's definitely not receiving further updates

you either support the websites you like or you don't. this was coming. the best thing that could happen now would be for someone else to grab tumblr I guess... preferably a smaller group that actually cares

[inndelibles]

BaxterMC Week Day 1: First(?) Meeting

"It's time to get to the bottom of this! I'm gonna ask somebody what's up. C'mon, Mel!"

Melody followed Derek as he weaved in and out of a crowd of very fancy-looking people. It was kinda insane that this gathering was happening at the same time and place as the soirée, because it felt like an entirely different world.

Not long after, it was clear Derek spotted a person to ask. He led the two of them towards a boy, maybe a little older than the two of them, who was standing by himself. Their gaze had been wandering, but as Melody and Derek approached, those rich brown eyes fell on Melody, and he felt himself flush just a little. He couldn't deny the person was extremely pretty with their pale face and rosy cheeks framed by swooping strands of black hair, not to mention the small mole on their neck.

"Hey, so, this might sound weird," Derek said to the person as he smiled awkwardly, "but what are you guys all doing here?"

"We're visitors who are in town for a dance circuit."

So, mystery person was a dancer? Very intriguing, Melody thought.

As the conversation continued, Melody couldn't help the pit that grew in his stomach as he realized he and Derek were very much intruding on a space they didn't belong in. That is, until it became clear that the mystery person was very much interested in sneaking around the same way Melody and Derek were.

"I thought I noticed something that way. It's been bothering me the entire evening. I was planning to check when it got darker," they smiled.

The stranger's posture and tone of voice presented an air of mild interest, but Melody could see a sparkle in their eyes. He could tell this person was trying very hard not to appear too excited, almost as if they wished they could be at the soirée instead of this formal "dance circuit," whatever that meant. Melody suddenly felt much more at ease knowing that this kid was much more similar to him and Derek than to all the other stuffy-looking people that surrounded them.

"Bye! Good luck with your dance circuit, and everything else!"

Derek's chipper voice brought Mel out of his reverie. By the time he realized what was going on, the person was gone. If he'd been paying more attention, he would've seen the curious look and its accompanying blush that pretty stranger had given him as they left.

~~~

Standing there by the curb with Cove, Melody couldn't help but find the monochrome man familiar. He couldn't place where he knew him from, and he wasn't even sure if he was remembering correctly at all, but luckily he didn't have to wait long to have his suspicions confirmed.

This "Baxter" eyed Melody with a smile and said, "We've met before."

~~~

BaxterMC Week courtesy of @minthe-drawings

[butterflies-and-blades]

Session 24: Unease

That night, dreams brought a return to the unpleasant. There was a void of darkness. Ever since placing that stone in Da's shield, the dark had left me on edge in a way that it never did before. Before, all dark was the same. Now its stubborn presence meant something was wrong.

Verca and Talo were there in the void, too. Remembering the time we were all pulled into Verca's dream to fight, I summoned the scythe and cautiously looked around for anything hiding in the dense shadows. Nothing came.

Talo called out. No response. And then I tried with the same results. We only heard something after Verca followed suit.

'Well aren't you an interesting trio," said an unfamiliar, masculine voice from out of sight. In response to our questions about who he was, a manic laughter echoed around the wall-less area. "I don't want to spoil the fun." What he did want was to get to know us.

"You won't get much from us if we don't know who we're talking to," I said.

"You don't seem very prepared to make friends." The voice was bodiless, but his mocking pout was audible.

An unfamiliar feeling brushed along my wrist, just below where I held my scythe. I yanked my arm back just in time to see an odd purple wisp wrap around the air where I had been.

Talo grabbed one of their potion bottles and threw it towards the empty space the wisp had occupied. The spot wasn't empty, though. Verca, who had been beside me, was unexpectedly there--as if the void had rearranged us just to place him at the other end of Talo's attack. The bottle smashed against his leg, erupting in flames that Verca quickly patted out.

"We might want to be careful of where we attack..." I said, still looking around.

The voice spoke lightly, as if there was the chance of something friendly on the other side of whatever was behind this. "Why attack at all?"

"That's up to you," I said, frowning. "What do you want?"

"To know what I'm up against." The quiet tapping of footsteps approached. More purple mist followed, obscuring the figure in a cloud of shifting wisps.

Talo said, "You're the thing from below the Nine Hells."

The mist-covered figure laughed at the confidence behind their claim. "No. You think he's this small? I'm what you let out. I just wanted to see what I was up against."

Something glittered against the darkness. I jumped out of the way just as a series of spear-shaped columns of light imbedded themselves in the grounding front of us, angled as if the figure had thrown them. Talo and Verca were less fortunate.

"Good luck with what is coming," said the voice. "It won't be me. I'm not strong enough to manifest outside of here. But prove you're strong enough and maybe you'll see me again." The figure spun a similar-looking spear to the others over his head and disappeared as his body dissipated upwards. 

We were back in our room, awake. Verca and I barely had time to sit up and look at each other before Talo was knocking on our door. It was a different start to the morning than what I had expected when I went to bed the night before. But it did save me from the awkwardness of not knowing how you are supposed to act the morning after something like that.

As a group, we decided that we probably should not stay in one place too long. If our shared dream was to be believed, something had definitely just been sent after us. We gathered our belongings and left for the castle so Talo could have a conversation with their aunt.

It was not difficult finding the castle; Dandruin was a massive city, but the spires still stood tall amongst the plethora of large buildings. What was more difficult, though, was getting the guards to take us seriously. Outside of the castle gates, Talo approached a guard. "Um, hello," they said. "I'm here to speak with my aunt, Meli." Considering how the rest of our limited time in the city had gone, it should not have been a surprise that we were promptly surrounded by guards with their spears at the ready. We stayed like that until someone was able to verify Talo's claim.

When we were allowed to progress, I was surprised that no guard accompanied us. There had recently been an assassination attempt on the queen, and it was not like we knew where we were going. Yet we were being allowed to free roam the same halls that had been infiltrated less than a week ago, based on what we had been told. Talo tried to look for a guard inside to point us in the direction of the throne room, but the castle was eerily empty.

Following Talo, we eventually found a large set up double doors--decorated with a series of ornate carvings--that we assumed signified the outside of the throne room. Talo knocked. From the other side, we heard shuffling as something inside was moved.

A few seconds later, one of the doors opened just enough for a tall blond man in a long coat to peak out. He looked over the three of us. "We don't have any meetings scheduled for the day," he said.

Talo explained that they were here to see their aunt. I found it weird that no one knew we were coming when a guard had gone to verify Talo's identity. Verca theorized that the guard had asked someone other than the aunt.

The man frowned softly. "I'm unsure which one that is." He alluded not knowing if someone had followed "his habit of picking up kids." Talo specified that they meant Meli, and he nodded, saying that he had "to go peel them apart."

While we waited, it occurred to me that the person the man referenced sounded a lot like how I had heard others speak of Da lately.

Returning, he introduced himself as Darin and led us into the room, where a green skinned tiefling woman was draped across the throne. Based on how she and Talo started talking, I assumed she was Meli. The two talked about Talo's family for a while, giving them both answers and more questions based on the frequently shifting expression on their face.

At the end, Meli gave us directions to the library, which was located elsewhere in the castle. The towering shelves made the last library we visited feel like a small bookshop in comparison. I initially worked on finding information about the "Allseer" figure referenced in the name of Da's shield, but I did not find any helpful information--only scattered excerpts about sight and omniscience.

As a group, we also tried to look for more information on the time giant that Hades had spoken about. While I did not find anything about "time giants" in particular, I did stumble across texts written about time manipulation--which was mostly attributed to the work of powerful wizards.

I did not come away completely empty-handed regarding giants, though. I found a few references to primordial giants and titans--both of which were rooted far in the past. And both had ties to a figure named Thor who seemed to have some level of historic religious importance. Verca found most of the same information I did. However, he was able to clarify that Thor was not simply an important religious figure; he was a god who hunted giants in his youth.

Talo's research came up with an ancient story of a hero who was given a spear. This hero was tasked with killing "the last fomorian" with this spear. The story appeared across a number of cultures, but they all ended with the hero dying as he plunged the spear into the fomorian. The trend--and the use of a spear specifically--made me worry for Verca's safety. Especially knowing that he had been warned the other night against becoming a martyr.

While at the library, Talo also tried to find information on the Nyx that Verca was supposedly dipped in, but they were unable to find anything. Which meant we were done there and ready to go back to the tree where we were to meet Dad.

We waited to contact him through the Sending Stone until we were outside of the city limits. That way we would not have to worry about establishing a manageable meeting time; we could simply say we were there. Talo pulled out the stone, doing just that.

After sending the message, they frowned, looking down at the stone in their hand. "There's a problem."

The spell had not gone through. I asked Talo what might have caused the stone to fail in that manner. They said one reason a Sending could fail was if the recipient was in a different plane. I couldn't imagine why Dad would have gone to another plane. He barely liked leaving the cabin. Another possibility was that someone else, or some outside force, was interfering.

I looked around, trying to see if any suspicious figures were following us, but I did not see anyone.

"Maybe you should reach out to Faunsel, just to make sure that it isn't a problem with the stones in general."

Talo nodded, gave the other stone a try, and reported no issues. Worry twisted inside my gut. We did not know how to get back to the cabin from here, and we had no way to contact Dad. We had no way to make sure he was okay.

Talo carefully suggested the possibility of trying to ask Da since had been to the cabin before and would know how to make the trip. They quickly clarified that they did not mean to suggest we go back to the temple. I shook my head, saying, "They mentioned being able to meet through dreams, I think." I suggested they set up camp while I try to figure out how to pray. And if this didn't amount to anything, they we could at least try calling again in the morning. I might even ask Talo if I can call so that I can hear that he's okay if it does manage to go through.

Dad put so much effort into making sure she didn't know about the cabin. She couldn't be involved in whatever is going on, right?

[witchcraftandburialdirt]

"Vittorio and I have long discussed how to free ourselves from this place; I am sure he would be delighted to begin that research again."

Haruko's words were soft, and his movements measured - deliberate - as he nodded in agreement. He kept his steps cautious to keep himself at a safe distance from the Shroud's thirsty blade; the maiden was aware of its sting, and had no intentions of allowing an opening for such a strike. Suddenly a nymphish snort escaped him, surprising even himself. The sound was not unkind, devoid of any disdain or mockery, and morphed into a joyful giggle that bubbled up from within him. The maiden's eyes sparkled with amusement as he reached out and gently placed a hand over his curled lips, forcing the chuckles down into placid ease. Any hanging tension faded into a sense of ease that permitted Haruko to relax - even if only for a moment.

"I appreciate your reference to Arthurian legend, it is rare that I understand references made by you so far ahead in time. Ha ━ but please be wary of your later use ━ Haha! Excalibur was given to Arthur by the Lady of the Lake! Twas a weapon forged outside of the mortal realm - only to be held by one deemed worthy enough to wield it, and it must return to its own origins once its holder is gone."

Yet still the maiden stood rooted to the spot, his fingers gripping the rough bark of a nearby tree as if it were his lifeline. Despite the merry making and mirth, Haru dare not step closer. The space between them fell silent and his breath lifted out in visible puffs while he kept his dark gaze locked onto the weeping mask. A soft and dead breeze lifted the veil that shrouded Haruko and allowed it to billow and dance through the air ━ the pale lace seafoam caught in a gentle current. He stood like a lone star piercing through the parted clouds on a frigid winter night, casting a faint but steady glow in the darkness. There was no stroke of shadow in him - he had not let it take reign of his mind, and it seemed he never would. How could he ever when his dreams were alight with color and the sweet smells of summer?

He held within his memory a vivid tableau of the world beyond, where life's pleasures abounded and the beauty of nature bloomed in a kaleidoscope of hues. The vibrant colors of the flowers in full bloom danced still in his mind - each petal a delicate dapple of pink, blue, and yellow, painting across the lush green fields of the Italian countryside. As long as he could remember, even just a sliver, of what life had been … he would search for it. Only if his mind was torn asunder would he give into the madness that was accepting this as the only way reality could be for him; he had fought for freedom once more ━ what was one more battle?

"Perhaps Excalibur is our answer, and there is something far beyond our realm that can act as a key to free us from this cage. .... It is obvious that us survivors cannot act within the good graces of those closest to the Entity ━ but you are already in that circle; even if your mistrusting friend does not wish to grant aid ━ I would ask of you to see what other information you can find. " Haru paused, "… Although with that task I bid you luck and any prayer I may offer, and to be careful. Many killers, I am sure, do not wish to leave such a place ━ they've not yet had their fill … Thus I implore you to keep a wary eye on any that call you friend, betrayal never comes from your enemies."

His eyes lifted upward, drawn to the somber expanse of the gray sky stretching endlessly above him. They paused there for a moment only to drift downward and settle on the mask's twisted features.

Haruko wondered how similar it and its wearer were.

"Hold hope yet, Ghostface, I do not believe all to be lost."

[reidingmelodies]

The Luckiest

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Category: Fluff Word Count: 2k Includes: Dad Spencer, Children, Pregnancy A/N:  I wrote this one for @anxiousblanketqueen’s birthday challenge: Happy Birthday, Jill! ♡ I hope you have an absolutely amazing day!! Main Masterlist

“What’s this, Daddy?” Spencer turned, eyes finding his daughter holding the scrapbook Penelope made for your anniversary a few months prior.  The book held your most cherished memories: from your first meeting to your first dates, to your marriage and the birth of your children.

“Auntie P made that for us, bug,” he explained, bending down to clear the pile of blocks on the floor to make way for her little feet.  She bounded towards him, the book dangling from her arms while she climbed next to him on the couch.

Big brown eyes similar to his own looked up at him, her little lip sticking out in a pout as she pushed the book towards him in a silent question.

She was only five, but she was fully aware that he was incapable of saying no to her; after all, she learned the puppy dog pout from its creator: his wife.

“Come here, love,” he situated his daughter on his lap, laying a gentle kiss on her hairline before opening the book to the first page.

“Is that Mommy?” her fingers moved to trace along the first photo, a still of you and Spencer at Derek and Penelope’s wedding seven years prior. Your eyes were focused off frame, gaze solely fixated on the couple’s first dance, but Spencer’s were glued to your every move.

It was your very first meeting, years of Penelope trying to set Spencer up with her high school best friend had failed up until that point.  Plans to go to bars were halted by last minute cases in different cities, parties in Penelope’s apartment were missed because you had a date lined up, lunch dates with Penelope where she hoped you would finally meet Spencer were ruined because he wouldn’t leave his desk.

Years and years of trying to get you two to meet, and all it took was her and Derek getting married.

If she knew it would have been that easy, she would have gotten hitched years ago.

As luck would have it, you and Spencer had somehow narrowly avoided each other during wedding planning as well.  It was as though the universe had something against you, as if all the signs were screaming that you weren’t meant to be.  But then, on the night the stars aligned for Derek and Penelope the same happened for you, your pre-planned seating arrangement leading you directly into Spencer’s arms and proving the universe wrong.

It was that night that two perfect strangers became stakeholders in one another’s lives, the night when two hearts found the piece that had been missing for too long.  Neither of you knew it then, but a few shared conversations and lingering glances over dinner were enough to change your lives.

“Yeah,” Spencer whispered, smiling at your daughter.  “That’s Mommy”.

And like their words summoned your presence, the front door opened and you walked in, your two year old son’s hand gripped around two of your fingers while your purse hung from your free arm.

“Mommy!” your daughter jumped from her position on Spencer’s lap to wrap her arms around your legs, your body bending to place a series of kisses against her head.

“Hi, Sweet Pea!  Did you have a good time with Daddy?”

“Mm-hmm!” you watched her pigtails bounce as she twirled, her hand moving to hold her brother’s as she walked him towards a tower in the center of the room.  “We played with blocks and read books and looked at a pretty picture of you!”

“Wow!  What picture was it?” but alas, your question fell short on your daughter’s ears, her attention long gone and instead focused on teaching her brother the right way to build a tower.

And honestly, as far as you were concerned that was perfectly okay.  Any moment they were getting along without tears or screams was a win in your book.

“We were looking at the album Penelope made us,” Spencer’s voice carried over the sound of your children’s giggles and you swiftly moved to sit next to him on the couch, thigh to thigh while your head rested against his shoulder.  “We made it through the first picture before you guys came home”.

You placed a gentle kiss against his shoulder where you laid, eyes scanning the photo in question. It was one of your favorite nights, but it paled in comparison to the picture on the next page.

“Remember that night?” you asked, pointing at the photo you had been eyeing.  It was a blurry mess to put it lightly, Spencer’s hand holding the disposable camera at an odd angle while you attacked his cheeks with kisses until a trail of lipstick was left in your wake.

You were young, in love, and inseparable- a blurry photo was a small price to pay for being with him.

“How could I forget,” Spencer chuckled lightly, shaking his head as he examined the picture, “I got off the jet at 11 PM and headed to your place for a midnight picnic.  We were only dating for three weeks and JJ thought it was weird to go to your place so late, but I didn’t care.  Did you think it was weird?”

You snuggled closer to him, the hitch at the end of his question cluing you into the fact that he was nervous you did.  “If you didn’t come over I most certainly would have went to your place- I hated being away from you, I still do now”.

You were rewarded with a kiss to your palm before Spencer continued to flip through the pages in a comfortable silence, your life together thus far being pieced together with every new picture.

From movie nights cuddled up on the floor of Derek and Penelope’s living room, to office holiday parties where you walked around with your pinkies intertwined, to stolen kisses at happy hour and café dates where you both sported espresso foam mustaches.

With the next flip of the page, you watched as your smiles grew wider in each photo with the addition of a ring on your left hand.  There were pictures of Spencer down on one knee at your favorite park thanks to Penelope’s hidden vantage point behind a set of trees a few feet away.

The sky was a cerulean blue, yellow and pink tulips in full bloom at your feet, but in that moment, with Spencer kneeling in front of you and the most beautiful declarations of love falling from his lips nothing was visible but him.  

Another flip of a page and yet another moment when nothing mattered but Spencer was on full display- your wedding day.  His arms were looped around your waist as you danced in front of your family and friends, your smiles the widest they’d ever been.  The night was filled with love filled glances and silent assertions of love fit for two in a room bursting with joy, each and every one caught on camera thanks to Penelope’s dedication to capturing one of her favorite love stories in action.

A series of selfies followed in the next few pages, each one a picture you had sent Penelope during your honeymoon as proof you weren’t always locked away in your hotel room. Spencer was sporting a sunglasses tan in each photo while you were sporting a smirk, each picture reminding you of the vacation that gave you one of your favorite gifts yet nine months later: your daughter.

You looked up from the album to glance in her direction, your lips curling into a smile as you watched her separate the blocks into color coded piles much to her younger brother’s amusement. With each passing day she reminded you more and more of Spencer, and it was by far one of your favorite journeys to witness.

Your focus shifted back to the book in Spencer’s hands, weekly progress photos of your stomach’s growth (which Spencer was determined to capture in all its glory) gracing the pages along with ultrasounds, memories from your baby shower, and pictures of Spencer’s hands constantly flitting over your lower belly. His head rested gently on your middle in each one, his face the picture of happiness as he whispered bedtime stories and facts about space, completely oblivious to everything but you and your daughter.

You watched as the baby you had spent months dreaming about came to life in pictures, her features the perfect mixture of you and Spencer from the moment she was placed in your hands. With each passing picture the bags under both of your eyes grew bigger, but your smiles grew wider.  Images of her firsts graced the pages: the first time she sat up, the first time she ate solid foods, the first time she said dada (and the tears in Spencer’s eyes when he heard it), her first steps, her first day of school.  

And then one made way for two, your son joining the midst of photos and bringing an endless amount of love and joy to your family.  Much like your daughter, he reminded you of Spencer: he was inquisitive- curious eyes always studying his surroundings, his hand always finding comfort in yours just like his father.  

Pictures of his firsts graced the pages much like your daughter’s, except this time the first time he sat up he was accompanied by a beaming sister, when he said mama for the first time it was you who was in tears, and when he took his first steps he walked straight into Spencer’s open arms.

The book was a picture-perfect testament to your love, one of your most prized possessions, but there was one thing missing.

“I love the life we built together,” Spencer whispered in your direction, his fingers tracing your side as he thought about how lucky he was. How lucky was he that he went from a man destined to live a solitary life to a man with a wonderful wife and two children made from love?

“I love it, too,” you murmured as your hand moved to reach for your purse, “but there’s one thing we’re missing”.

You watched as Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed, his eyes scanning the empty pages at the end of the book.  “I know the pictures are a little out of date, we can order some more this weekend to fill the empty pages though”, he stated as his gaze found yours to see if that was the answer you were looking for.

“We definitely can,” you nodded, removing an item from your purse and unsticking the scrapbook pages to place it in the middle.  Once you were satisfied with its placement, you adjusted the top sheet before holding both of Spencer’s hands in yours, “but we can start with this”.

The previously blank page was now the home of your very first ultrasound photo for your third baby, a surprise you had confirmed earlier that morning at your doctor’s appointment.  You watched as Spencer’s eyebrows shot up, his face breaking into a smile while his eyes filled with tears.

“Really?” his voice was so soft, you were sure you would have missed it if you weren’t sitting directly next to him.

“Really, really,” you confirmed, your left hand moving to grasp his jaw as you pulled his face closer to yours.

“Are you excited?” you whispered, fully aware that the answer was yes but craving confirmation.

With your question, a tear escaped his lash line, trailing down his cheek and making its way to a beaming smile that rivaled the ones you had seen in the scrapbook.

He nodded, at a complete loss for words as he closed the gap between you and let his feelings out in a kiss. It was a kiss filled to the brim with love, happiness, and appreciativeness.  

And in that moment, there was only one coherent thought on his mind as he listened to his children’s giggles in the background and felt the weight of your love against his lips: How lucky was he that he went from a man destined to live a solitary life to a man with a wonderful wife and three children made from love?

The luckiest man alive, that was for sure.

***

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[nukapind]

i changed (it was worth it) - todoroki siblings

Tis is different than most things I’ve written, its more of a vent so idk how it’ll do but this was crossposted to my AO3.

Masterlist

tw: mentions of abuse, yelling

touya was doomed from the start, born to a loveless couple who had no buisiness being together. all his siblings were good for were annoying him, but leaving them to their parent's wrath is just too cruel even for him

––

The world had been against Touya from the start— a child born to a couple who should have never met, much less have gotten married and start a family together. The meeting of Todoroki Enji and Himura Rei had been something akin to a marriage entirely born of convenience, the proud man practically repelling anyone he had ever met and the woman had been raised to be a housewife— to sit obedient to her future husband’s every wish. His father was nothing if not a distant man, never there for a single important milestone of Touya’s, much less the other children’s— it seemed like Enji was only home whenever his voice would rattle the house, and give Touya tremors that’d he did his best to hide. It never seemed to bother Rei all too much, it’d been much different for a child to grow in those circumstances.

Rei hadn’t been much better, a hollow personality with eyes that seemed to look right through you. An emptiness filled her that nothing could quite replace— despite having child after child in hopes to feel something suddenly click in her body— she never held an ounce of joy nor love towards them. Only birthing children into a loveless family for nothing more than to occupy a meaningless space in the world.

Unfortunately, Touya’s bad luck hadn’t ended there.

It appeared that in the Todoroki family, just because you had children, it didn’t mean you had to care for them in any capacity. Cries from the younger three children had always become a common occurrence, annoying Touya to absolutely no end.

Being the oldest was especially exhausting when you had to deal with both resentful parents and snotty brats. No matter how hard he tried to make himself as hidden as possible, his plans had always gone awry. Which is why he found himself staring at his siblings who had quickly escaped to the sanctity of his room, door locked shut behind the trio as their father raged on in the living room. Fuyumi struggled to carry the toddler in her small arms and Natsuo panting dramatically as he sank down against the door.

He grit his teeth as Shoto was placed down onto the floor, why did they have to come here? Of all places, they had chosen the one place he would be inconvenienced. “Dinner is late.” Fuyumi mumbled, a cold quiet voice that almost resembled their mother’s from the lack of emotion. The one-sided argument rang on throughout the house and Touya bit his tongue. He wouldn’t entertain children, he decided.

“Make yourselves busy.”

Money couldn’t buy the kids love, but it did buy the television set the three silently gathered around the nintendo— mindlessly watching Touya win round after round, all the while their father’s yelling seemingly ceased to exist in their world.

Touya soon starts to forget what being lonely feels like, when night after night it becomes the new norm for the children to all sleep huddled up in his room. The pit in his stomach is gone but there’s always a lump in his throat after he contemplates kicking them all out. Tomorrow night, he decides he’ll end the cycle and they’ll be forced to find another hiding spot, but tomorrow happens over and over again and he still shares a bed with his siblings.

Touya is eight when he decides his siblings aren’t the worst part of this family.

—

“I hate how I look.”

Touya had almost snarkily agreed until he realized the gravity of the situation— almost cringing to himself at the thought of the conversation that was to come, it definitely was one he could do without. However, it also wasn’t a secret that Natsuo looked similar to Enji, something Touya was glad he hadn’t inherited or else he wouldn’t be able to stand his own fucking reflection. 

It’d never been a secret that Natsuo had almost as much resentment towards his father as Touya did, the refusal to be in the same room as Enji had started young— beginning with a fear of a scolding had managed to evolve into complete irritation at even being in the same room as his father. Father and son had grown to the point where they could not handle being in the same room as one another, an explosive match always following after each supposed family dinner that Enji had decided to join in on.

“We all look like them.” Natsuo clicked his tongue at that, lifting his head and revealing his tired eyes. “I look like him.” He mumbled and Touya pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a sigh. 

Of course Natsuo was right, sometimes when the nights got so bad and Enji couldn’t control his anger, turmoil would begin to manifest in Toyua’s chest whenever he saw his younger brother, angering the teen because Natsuo wasn’t at fault for that. And no matter how much he knew that, the resentment was difficult to shake off.

“Well you’re not him.”

Natsuo stayed silent, curling up into a ball 

“You’re not Enji, isn’t that enough for you? Looks can be changed, it’s not the end of the world.” Natsuo sniffled, wiping at his eyes before any tears had the chance to trickle down his cheeks. “That doesn’t change anything, he’s everywhere in this damn house. It’s not just me that looks like him.” Touya held back a frown as Natsuo’s eyes settled on him for a split second before looking away quickly. Biting his tongue, he nodded. Of course it wasn’t just Natsuo, it was all four of them plagued with some sort of reminder of their father.

Unfortunately, Enji’s eyes and hair will always be a part of Touya, written in his genetic coding, but some looks can be changed.

“Can I play on your playstation?”  “No, get your shoes on. We’re going to the store.”

Touya is fourteen when his brother and sister help him dye his hair: now black rather than the unruly red he’d been bestowed upon birth. Touya is fourteen when he gets the punishment of a lifetime but now Natsuo looks him in the eye for the first time in months.

—

The door to his room slamming open and shut hadn’t bothered Touya all too much. There was rarely a moment of quiet in Touya’s life, he’d grown up with his father’s yells shaking the wall and hushed cries of the children. Already turning in his chair and getting ready to scold Shoto (the kid was notorious for causing trouble nowadays), he froze as he saw Fuyumi. Hot tears trickling down her cheeks and hair disheveled, a far cry from the prim and proper look she always allowed the world to see her as.

“Why does mom look at me like that? I haven’t done anything wrong!” And immediately, Touya knew exactly what the problem was—  Rei’s lifeless eyes had always stared at the lot of them the exact same way. It had plagued him for the longest time when he was younger. Of course Fuyumi had never done anything wrong, it wasn’t anyone’s fault besides Rei. She’d been a fool to expect something in her mind to finally click with each new child. Expecting the love to flood her brain and bring out something– anything– in her heart.

It never came no matter how much she tried— Touya had come to terms with that long ago, but Fuyumi would be more stubborn. It’d take longer for her, especially after idolizing and making excuses for her all the years. She’d always had more hope that their family would just click together someday– Touya always hoped that didn’t mean she’d end up like Rei in that manner.

“I try so hard to make her happy, but she doesn’t see me!” Her hands started tugging harshly on her snow colored hair and he quickly pulled them away to her side. “Fuyumi, she’s fucked in the head, she’s not there! Nothing’s going to ever change that, why are you still bothering with her?” Her sobs got worse, body heaving with each word she managed to get out.

“I just want them to love me.”

For a brief second, he’d have done anything for her to break free from the shackles of their parents— the very idea unsettled Touya, and he forced it into the back of his mind. “You don’t need them, you have Natsuo and Shoto.” And me, though the words were left unsaid. 

He bit the inside of his cheek before sighing, sitting down next to her. “You know that they would change if they wanted to, they’re not changing.” Bringing her knees up to her chest, she hid her face in her lap, mumbling softly. 

“Aren’t we worth changing for?”

He stayed silent, his siblings had somehow changed him all for the better no matter how much he tried to resist it— they’d wormed their way into his life despite all the times he’d tried to kick them out of it. His mornings were spent with getting them all settled with breakfast and ready for classes, and nights ended with making sure homework was done and they were in the safety of their room. Of course they were worst changing for, so why couldn’t their fucking parents see that?

“All of you shits are worth it, it doesn’t matter if they don’t change. I’m here.” His arm wrapped around Fuyumi as her cries slowly began to wind down. Once prim and proper now proved to be a child desperate for her parents to look at her with light in their eyes rather than regret and resentment.

Toya is sixteen as he takes Fuyumi’s tear-stained glasses off her face, letting her doze off into a restless sleep on his bed. There was nothing in Rei’s heart, but unsettlement filled Touya’s as he made his makeshift bed on the floor of his room that night; allowing his sister to lie in his bed like she had years ago.

—

“Touya!” He ignored the yelling of his youngest brother, tugging his shoes on and making sure his wallet was in his pocket– he was almost late and like hell would he miss his shift. “Not now Shoto, I gotta go!” Huffing, the child quickly pinned himself between Touya and the front door.

“Can I go to work with you?” Touya raised a brow as Shoto stood in front of his only escape route, blocking it off when he knew damn well he had to go or he’d be late. The eldest and youngest stared the other down, Touya biting his scowl back at the kid. “Why?” The child had almost looked nervous as he glanced around. “I heard Dad on the phone with Mom, he’s really mad. Natsuo’s staying at a friend’s house.” And Fuyumi was off on a school trip for the next two day.

Meaning if Shoto stayed home, he’d be at the mercy of their father.

The idea of it irked him, and the fact that they had that weird eldest and youngest rivalry didn’t matter at the moment. “Fuck! Fine, just hurry and get your backpack.” Knowing their father, he’d find the worst time to get home. Shoto scrambled to get his school-bag and shoes on.

Rolling his eyes, he easily picked Shoto up and jogged out of the neighborhood— an excited laugh leaving the kid as he gripped the collar of Touya’s shirt tightly. Ignoring all the stares that followed him, he finally slowed down in an attempt to catch his breath— Shoto still giggling as he was set down on his feet while Touya crouched over, hands on knees as he tried to calm his breathing.

Touya had to admit, it was nice to see the kid smiling for once, Shoto was eight years old and he already looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders– just like Touya had at that age. He’s almost grateful that he’d been the oldest out of all of the kids, at least the others could have a real shot at life.

“The hell is Fuyumi feeding you? You’re fucking heavy.” “We eat the same food… Wouldn’t that mean you’re heavy too?” Shoto pensively wondered. Scowling, Touya huffed as he nudged Shoto’s shoulder, making his way to the run down diner he’d managed to get a job at. “C’mon Smartass, when we get there you can finish your homework and I’ll get you something to eat.” 

“I don’t like homework, and you never do yours” He snorted at that, Shoto holding onto his hand as they made their way to the shitty restaurant he worked at. “Yeah well you don’t wanna end up like me, you gotta do something right.” The light shove he gave Shoto didn’t deter the grin making its way on the eight year old’s face. “I’m gonna be just like you!”

“Please don’t.” He inwardly smiled, holding the door open for the little brat before getting him settled into the booth. “Do your homework, I’ll get some lunch–” “Cold soba please.” Touya’s mouth twitched at that, shaking his head and going to the kitchen.

Touya is seventeen when his coworkers coo over his younger brother, it's his first job and decides against quitting when he sees the smile on Shoto’s face– delighting in the attention the motherly waitress gives him. His brother is unburdened and Touya is okay with taking the burdens from him once more.

–

Touya is now eighteen, freshly kicked out of his childhood home and in his own little shitty apartment he can barely afford. His siblings spend more time here than at their own home and he’s at peace with that. Todoroki Touya is an older brother, he still dyes his hair regularly, still holds his sister tight, and still remembers his brother’s favorite meal. He is surrounded by warmth, an unspoken love with his siblings as they all pile together in his bare living room just as they had a decade earlier. He is warm inside and surrounded by a family he didn’t want but was glad he had kept.

Touya is eighteen when he realizes it was worth it.

–

Masterlist

Please let me know if you enjoyed, this is very different than anything else I’ve written.

[gojoho]

MERCY

• pairing; toji fushiguro x reader [ nsfw ]

• premise; it’s the same dance with him, a shameless game of cat and mouse in which he always win but maybe losing is equally as rewarding. 

• words; 2078

• note & warning; i’m back with some toji content, he’s just been in my mind a little to long for me not the write about him. some warnings for this one is public, unprotected ( wrap it and then tap it folks ) sex, with the usual grammatical errors—I swear I try to proof read ya’ll but they just manage to find a way to stay in there. i am slowly but surely getting my mojo back.

Old habits die hard; it's easier to hate each other that way. Labeling whatever that was manifesting between the two of you as that, a bad habit. A dirty secret only an onyx sky could appreciate enough to hide. Perhaps that's what kept it alive and kicking, midnight turmoil, where even the most terrible of bad ideas are more seductive.

Though it's debatable if the alcohol left you unhinged, mindless, and bold. What other excuse did you have for allowing the bastard to enter your domain? There was no shame from the thinking without a conscience, but with the pounding music and pulsing lights, you weren't sure there was even space to think. He held a brazen stare all evening, keen to every move you made.

A man's attention was never anything to sneeze at, but when it was a straggler like Toji Fushiguro, it was intoxicating. And more than the liquor, everything seemed to be within reach under his spotlight. He held his distance, clung to the darkness, yet with such an adamant gaze he could have been right there beside you. At least, that's how you imagined it but the game wasn't that easy.

  He'd stay in his dark corner, not quite able to step closer until you were ready. Until the heat underneath your skin became unbearable, leaving you an aching mess. That made it easier to devour you. Whether it meant burying his head between your thighs or hooking his arms around your waist and keeping you open. Or bottomed out inside you, mouth feasting on your chest.

The club was full, Friday night packed but it would work in your favor. You knew none of the songs, not that it mattered, it was mere fuel to your movements. A nice accessory to the sway of your hips, to suggestive temptation behind them.

It wasn't worth looking in his direction; he was always watching. At that thought alone, your clothes become a nuisance. A means to an end, that would start with him. Toji was a patient man but knew that patience didn't extend to everyone, you in particular. He was a tease, and as your dress inclined it almost felt as if he'd been the one to hike it up.

A sensation too similar to his hands moving over your bare thighs, ready to pry them open. His smug chuckle was right there feeding your imagination, and as one song faded into the next, there wasn't a spot on your body that hadn't been kissed in theory. With one thought, you were drooling over a man less than ten feet away, fantasizing about all the ways he could take you. It was more of a headache than it seems, and as the pace of the songs picks up, the conscience returns. Whilst you make your way back to the bar. You'd need a little more liquid luck to get through the rest of the night.

  “That was quite a show.”

  “Didn’t know I had an audience.” What else could you have done but tell a bald-faced lie? Telling him the truth didn't do anyone any good. How you envision him fucking you in the middle of the dance floor.

“Could’ve fooled me." The bar was located farther away from the DJ and next to the restrooms. The quieter end of the venue, but you're sure you'd have heard his smirk regardless.

After all this time, it's only then that you turn to him.“What are you doing here Fushiguro?”

Big mistake, ten feet away he looked the same as when you last saw him, but up close and personal, some details that had escaped memory came back to haunt you.

“Would you believe me if I told you, I’m here to see you?”

Yeah right, “Not in the slightest.”

“It’s true for the most part, had a job in the area and thought I’d pop in do some sightseeing." He shifted his weight back to the counter, his elbows well-rested on either side.

“Well you came and you saw.”

“On the contrary,” he said. The double meaning has turned your cheeks crimson, and you're thankful for the red lights underneath the counter. “Cute dress.”

Images from moments before gloss over your eyes, heating every part of your body. They burned a path down your chest before settling below your hips. “Seriously Fushiguro what do you want? You made it pretty clear we both want different things the last time you popped in.”

“Things are different.” Sincere wasn't the word you or anyone else would use to describe the guy, but his demeanor defied all expectations. He seemed to be a completely different person.

  “Yeah, they are,” you mumbled, tossing back a shot you managed to order before his interruption.

  “Look," he started and turned to face you. Face inches from yours, his scent enveloping both of you. "I tried the settling down thing and it doesn’t work with my kind of lifestyle.”

It wasn't the words you wanted to hear, but you probably wouldn't have had them anyway. Wishful thinking, “Then that’s clears things up doesn’t it?” Toji Fushiguro didn’t do apologies, much like he didn’t do commitment, and even as he called after you, that would never change. Something you wish your body would recognize, no matter how much it longed for him.

  The corridor to the restrooms was too quiet for him being that close to you...too intimate. In the quick second you had turned you back to him, ready to sober up and head home, he’d already been behind you. Pushing you up against the wall in the far corner, his arms barricading you in.

  “You’re quite stubborn, you know that.” His voice was low, quiet all to maintain the secrecy veiled in the darkness.

  “Thanks, I’ll be sure to add it to my resume.” You witted, going to duck around him but he was quick and with a step forward his hips pushed yours in back place.

  “Will you just listen,” he pleaded. Not that you had much of a choice, but he took your silence as obedience. “I won’t make excuses, I’m a shitty guy but it’s gotten me this far. You won’t get the white picket fence with me. That’s not who I am.”

It was true, he was a shitty person. One minute here and the next gone with the wind. All with impeccable timing, usually around when he’d finish fucking you senseless. Truthfully it wasn’t something too much of a problem, it was better if he had his life and you with your own. Though you supposed between the kisses, and that final thrust that brought you both over the edge left some vulnerability.

  “If I’m stubborn, then you’re quite dense. I never asked for that Toji. I was fine with the wild sex but was a little conversation too much to ask? You’ve got baggage, newsflash so do I, but you’d think we’d handle it like two grown adults. You’ve always been on the move, please, slow down every once in a while.”

The silence is deafening, louder than the upbeat track in the distance. You were irritated, angry, and, to make it worse, aroused. What else did he expect from you but a meltdown? As he moved his head to your back, he lowered his arms, allowing them to ghost your waist. “I'm sorry,” he said softly, kissing it.

In retrospect, you should have jumped for joy, climbed to the top of the bar, and screamed at the top of your lungs like a lunatic, but you didn't. You didn't want to abandon his embrace at that moment; he had really changed.

The kiss in trial is slow and tender, responsive to not only the worries but any emotion in between. Everything you didn't think he was capable of and all rage bleeds into desire. Each of you starved and desperate to find a fill.

The stiffness of his pants condemned his hold, which found its power over your hips. You want to propose that he return the excitement to your place or whatever hotel he was staying in, but he broke the kiss to turn you around. His patience had reached its maximum for the night.

“Wait for a second,” you mumbled out. A slight moan slipped through feeling his erection firm and strong against your rear. The ends of your dress taunted by his fingertips liked how you pictured them too. “Sorry princess, no can do.”

  It’s almost impressive how quickly he lifts your dress and slipping a finger past your thong. But should anyone know your body in grave detail it was him. There’s a ceremonial cheer from the crowd as the DJ lets the beat drop, Toji’s opportune moment of intrusion. Your own cry, not one in interest to the music but the long slender finger to part your folds.

“I’ve waited all night to get my hands on you,” he mumbled out, lips pressed to the back of your neck.

  “Toji—”

“I’ll be quick, just the way you like it.”

  It’s in your best interest to stop him there, keeping private matters just that, you should stop him...should.

  “Fuck…quickly.” you cursed out in compliance. There’s a smirk on his face, you know it. Sure he’s different, but some things never change.

  In the second he pulled his finger away, you whimper half expecting for it to slip back in, maybe even with a partner but a casual Friday night turns into Christmas.

  “I'll take my time with you later, right now—” he started face pressed into the back of your shoulder. “I just need to be inside you.”

  First was the tip of his cock, a feeble tickle before the rest of his inches followed. Stretching you full, slipping deep into your heat. Coaxing the ache that was for him, letting the world see just how easily your body welcomed his own. Yet, it was hard to care about the rest of the world when your own revolved around everything below your hips.

  He gripped them tightly, anchoring you there at the hilt with a slow sure thrust before looping a hand to your front. Twisting the nerves in time with his sudden thrust. Quick like he said, but still slow enough to feel him move inside you. In and out, then over again. The excitement of having him there indulging with your body, and the anxiety of getting caught clashed. Making you even more aware of your walls around him, but in his muffled moans there are words of encouragement. Sweet nothings that make your arousal fierce, sexy, and less wrong.

  “Don't stop, ” you say a little too loud for doing something taboo but you don't care, “Don't fucking stop.”

  The million and one fantasy that flooded your mind on the dancefloor spirals, winding with the moment and coiled in an untamed void. Ready to snap at those trying to control it. And there, shrouded in the thin veil of privacy Toji picks up his pace, teasing it with each stroke until finally, it shudders through. Coming in waves, meeting your peek every time he pushed forward. Bolting down your legs the more sloppy and anxious his hips became.

  “Fuck, ” he grunts hands shooting to your chest. Pulling you closer to him, eating up your moans with his.

  Almost feral with the way he continued despite his cock’s twitches, he wasn't nearly satisfied but that was a mess neither of you was capable of cleaning up at the moment. Regrettably, you push back on his rhythm stopping it completely. Snapping him from the haze.

“We should go, ” you whisper out on his lips. Which he can only grunt back in response to, hesitant to slip from your warmth.

His hands are glued to your body, unable to null all contact as you tugged your dress back down or as he tucks himself back into his pants. You'd ask whether it was back to your place or his but the languid look on his face as the two of you shamelessly stepped into the light made it fruitful. It didn't matter where the two of you went, he'd have you crying for mercy.

[impalalord]

You know, it's the littlest things that can change the course of life. The smallest action could topple a building, or start the construction of one instead. For us, and for the galaxy at large, humans were that change.

After they made first contact with another species, humans did what they do best and immediately got themselves wrapped up in a war with a species that had far more firepower than they did. Of course, being a fledgling species who could barely grasp warfare in the void of deep space, much less the use of common technology that would have taken them centuries to develop themselves, it ended poorly for them.

The Humans turned out to be Idealists, with individuals and small ships volunteering themselves to help in a war effort to defend their outermost colonies because their own governments would not. That was another oddity about these Humans, they did not enter the galactic fray as a single unified group. Instead, they were a loosely collected group of governments and nation states held together with treaties and deals.

At first they lost volunteer soldiers and emissaries, then they began to lose ships and outposts. Instead of demoralizing them, this seemed to fill them with rage and cause them to lash out in anger. This too ended poorly, as they fought an overwhelming force with nothing but kinetic weapons and solid-fuel engines, the galactic equivalent of sticks and pebbles.

Their losses were staggering, as the Dryzal swept into Human territory and pillaged whatever they deemed fit. Worlds were lost and razed, endless voices were silenced as the horde marched forward. But this destruction did not satisfy the Dryzal, so they took more from the young species.

The eventual destruction of their homeworld, the razing of the very cradle from which their species was raised, caused Humanity to become a drifting species among the stars. They became intergalactic wanderers with no start or end of their journey to speak of. Their birthplace was nothing more than radioactive dust, and the fire of rage seemed to have died from their eyes. Anyone who went through a spaceport most likely saw a few solo humans wandering throughout the interior, with their gaunt, sunken faces and disillusioned cold eyes. Any sane being gave them a wide berth, afraid that they would be sucked into their cold, soulless depression, unable to escape.

Humans travelled from world to world, working on any ship that was willing to take them without too many questions. They weren't strong, and they weren't fast, but they could learn quickly and had no problem doing any job as long as they got paid. They spread across the galaxy and learned the inner workings of every species

In truth, humanity had not lost their rage, or their hope. The destruction of their homeworld cooled that fiery, liquid rage in their eyes and hearts into a icey hard steel that was sharpened further with every passing day. They bided their time, licking their wounds and learning their lesson. Lashing out would get them nowhere without a solid plan.

So they spread themselves across the dominion, unseen by the populace due to their reputations as wraiths. Barely living beings that lived in the shadows and dregs of society. Learning everything they could about each species, quietly recruiting others who had earned similar fates. Humanity no longer had an army of soldiers and starships, instead, they had an army of workers. Castaways, the dregs and refuse of intergalactic society, banded together, working behind the scenes as janitors, mechanics, cooks and repairmen. Quietly building and growing until the time finally came.

Their uprising came on a seemingly normal day; transportation stopped, communications jammed, power lines cut and food stores emptied. Militaries scrambled to try and find the source of the unrest, but everywhere they went the answer seemed to be ‘everyone.’ A random janitor was just as likely to be part of the chaos as a militant roaming the streets.

After several hours of the chaos, a single signal passed through all of the VidNet. A single live video of a young male human sitting at a desk. His dark hair disheveled, his clothes dirty and tattered, his average face covered in bruises and cuts. His voice was calm and collected, but also cold and firm as he began to speak to the universe.

“My name,” he began, “is Tim. I was nine years old when the war with the Dryzal began. My parents were not soldiers. They were farmers and pacifists. They believed in the good of the universe and taught me to look for the good in all people, of all species. It is your fault I have broken that pacifism. My parents were killed in front of me on my tenth birthday. Our colony was razed and I was dragged, screaming and crying, onto a ship by a neighbor who was lucky enough to survive the purge. We set out for Earth, the homeworld of our species, hoping that someone would respond to our distress calls.”

The human paused for a moment, and sighed. “We didn’t just send distress calls to our own kind. We sent them out across the entirety of the Dominion, using every language we could find in our database. Only a single species came to help us in our time of need, the Ruvol. Much like us, the Ruvol had lost everything without any assistance from the Dominion. All they had left were a ragtag fleet of merchant ships, barely able to fly, much less fight. Yet they were the ones who came to us when we needed it the most.”

“The Ruvol did not care that they might die, or that the last remnants of their culture would be lost forever. They saw us struggling, and they gave us their hand. In the end they saved about two dozen colonies from destruction before they were all killed above Trelnax V. By then I was eleven, and I had volunteered to help the Ruvol in their evacuation plans. Once again, I watched everything I put my life towards destroyed in front of me, before being dragged back to Earth. The Dominion refused to respond to our communications.”

“I was twelve when the Dryzal finally reached Earth, their slow warpath finally reaching its destination. I was on an outbound shuttle to help with relief efforts on another destroyed colony when they came into the system. They didn’t even bother to try and conquer the planet. They just unloaded a barrage of nuclear warheads and turned everything we held dear to radioactive dust. Yet the Dominion stood by and did nothing but watch.”

“Now, exactly eight years after you stood by and watched, you beg us to help you. Our friends and allies fill your streets with fire and chaos, your communications cut and transportation is gone. Why should we, the same beings that you threw to the street, help you? There are many among our cause who have similar stories, species we pulled from the fire ourselves because you would not.”

“The Kenek at Oaphus, twelve thousand nine hundred and sixty three humans died protecting their world, zero Dominion forces present. The Grocon at Laphus, eight thousand six hundred and seventy one humans dead, zero Dominion forces present. The Swaans at Bleu, seventeen thousand, four hundred and thirteen humans dead, zero Dominion soldiers present. A pattern began to emerge in our favor, each time we gave our lives to save these species, they vowed to fight with us in our cause. Each time their worlds were attacked, they cried out for help. You never answered, so we did.”

“Entire species filled with rage and hate for your inability to lift a finger are finally coming out, their feelings boiling over the edge of the pot. You have committed the grave sin of sloth, and now you are paying the price. This universe is no longer yours to control. You all had your chance to rule over everyone, and you ruined it. You were happy to sit peacefully in your ivory towers as worlds burned below your feet.”

“Now your Ivory Towers become your prisons instead, as control slips out of your grasp and falls firmly into ours. We vow to never make the same mistakes you have. Goodbye and good luck.”

After that transmission everything changed. The Humans lifted us out of an era of stagnation and into an era of expansion and growth. Though it was not a peaceful era, it was a better one, and for that we can never truly repay them. That is why on this day every year, we remember. We remember the worlds and species wiped away by the Dominions inability to give others aid, in hopes that we may never repeat their failures.

-Transcription of Dr. Cassien Agnaits’ Remembrance day lecture at the University of Tylon IV, Standard Galactic Date 110864

[kylorengarbagedump]

Defy Your Authority: Chapter 1

Read on AO3. Part 2 here.

Summary: You’re a Lieutenant, stationed on Orinda. You’re content with your trustworthy crew, but issues with a certain ship (spoiler alert: it’s the TIE silencer) end up trapping you on the Steadfast, instead. Your relationship with Kylo Ren isn't how you left it. How many more messes can you stand to clean?

(Yes, this is the sequel to Fix Your Attitude.)

Words: 4500

Warnings: None. Yet.

Characters: Kylo Ren x Reader

A/N: Umm... hi!! I don't have much to say other than I'm very excited to post this, and I really hope you enjoy it! I love you all so much. I'm genuinely lucky and grateful to have you in my life.

You weren’t ready.

Since the alert had come in that the First Order would be sending a transporter to Orinda, your hands had been jittery. There’d been no indication, no hint as to what your team should be expecting when they arrived. In the four months since you’d arrived at the fuel post, you hadn’t received a single visitor from the brass.

“Hey, Chief.” 

The voice called you as you were chest-deep in a pile of fuel-cells. Grunting, you wrenched yourself free, patting the reactor dust from your uniform. Certainly there was some in your hair, too. 

“Hey, hi Tonis, what’s up?” You tried to restrain your anxiety to the perimeter of your mind. “Can, uh, can I help you?”

Tonis, your third engineer, sighed, wrangling his hands together as he looked to the ground. “Do you know what’s going on with this transport unit arriving?” His thin lips twisted in a frown. “They’re saying that they might be shutting the post down.”

“Oh, jeez.” You shook your head, grabbing a rag from the terminal and wiping your hands. “No, no. Nothing like that. I’m sure.”

“Okay,” he said. “Good. I really, really, really don’t want to be moved. Again.”

Grimacing, you looked at your reflection in the terminal facade. “I know.”

“Orinda’s really great,” he said. “All the different ships we get to work on. And it’s so quiet. And our team is so great--”

“I know.” You mussed your hair, as if shoving dirty fingers through it would improve its appearance. Incredibly, it did not. “They’re only sending three people. I’m sure it can’t be that big of a deal.”

“But that’s the thing!” he said. “Don’t you think that a transport unit with only a few passengers must be here for something super-official?”

Your chest seized, and you cleared your throat, turning back to him. 

“Maybe.” You ignored the hot burn of your cheeks. “Guess we’ll see when they get here.” 

The terminal blipped, a familiar pattern that indicated the atmosphere had been breached. It’d been awhile since you’d felt like you had the power to summon anything of importance with a single thought. The reminder tweaked your heart. 

“Or… I guess we’ll see now.”

Tonis squealed, running through the post. “Hey! Hey guys! The First Order’s here! The First Order’s arrived!”

Sighing, you looked into the terminal again. Four months hadn’t changed your appearance too much. Not that it mattered. Or it might. But you wouldn’t worry about it. Only a little.

You steeled your nerves and walked out of the hangar into the dusty outcropping of the fuel outpost. Flat land stretched for miles in diameter from your station, a rolling pitch of blue mountains in the far distance, the wind whipping across the plains, rustling the dry grass. Shielding your eyes with a hand, you gazed up and spotted the transporter, a blooming black spot in the cloudless sky, quickening the pace of your pulse with every passing second.

It was just a transporter. He wouldn’t be on it. There was nothing to freak out about.

Tonis had gathered the rest of your massive crew--all three of them, him included--and they surrounded you, faces taut with anticipation.

“What do you think it is, Chief?” That was Mirna, your second engineer, a short, wide-set thing, with buzzed hair and a gruff voice. “You think they’re shutting the place down?”

“She already said she doesn’t think it’s that,” Tonis replied.

“Well, yeah, but then, why are they just sending three people?” said Lin, your mechanic. 

“There’s plenty of reasons they could send three people,” Tonis said, as if he hadn’t just been agonizing over that very issue just minutes ago.

Mirna snorted. “Like what?”

“An announcement,” Lin said. “Maybe they’re canvassing all First Order planets.”

You nodded, chewing your cheek. “Sure. That could be it.”

“Or maybe it’s a survey!” Tonis was almost wiggling with excitement like the little nerd he was. “Does anyone else love filling out those weird surveys?”

“No, nerfherder,” Mirna teased, grinning. “Just you.”

“Could be an escort.” Lin shrugged. “Maybe they’re here to pick someone up.”

Mirna laughed. “Oh, come on,” she said. “Who in the stars could they have an interest in on this planet?”

Blood blazed your face. “It’s a mystery.”

You hadn’t told anyone since arriving what had brought you there or why you’d come. You hadn’t told them when you’d first landed that you still had the cum of the Commander of the First Order leaking out of your cunt. You hadn’t told them that just hours before, he’d held you in his arms, brought you into his mind, and shown you--with a breathless, crushing tangibility--how utterly and completely he loved you.

You hadn’t told them, either, that in the days, weeks, months following your arrival, you hadn’t heard from him at all. 

With a dying wail, the transporter hovered and landed, spitting up a ring of dust that smacked you in the face. You sputtered, wiping your eyes, the rest of your crew apparently victims too. Frowning, you crossed your arms, brow cocked as the ramp whined and descended. Something akin to fear needled your heart in the empty space between the sound of footsteps and the emergence of two Stormtroopers stomping to the ground. 

Something that was definitely fear gripped it as those two troopers were followed by a man you’d hoped to never, ever see again.

“Engineer.” General Hux had somehow lost none of his smarmy, pink-cheeked smugness--his refusal to say your name was out of petty spite at this point. And his face was just as punchable as you remembered. “I see you are, for once, prepared for our arrival.”

“What sort of facility chief would I be if I didn’t stay on top of our arrival queues?” You hid your hands behind your back to hide their quaking. “Though I believe my rank is Lieutenant, now, sir.”

“Lieutenant,” he replied, with the same amount of disdain he’d probably afford a crying child. “I imagine it’s the lack of distraction.” He smirked. “I loathe to think of the productivity you would’ve had on the Finalizer with a similar environment.”

“Oh, as do I, sir.” You offered him a gleaming smile. “I can’t imagine a punishment worse than being in your good graces.”

“Chief,” hissed Mirna. “That’s a General of the First Order. What are you doing?”

Cursing internally, you pinched yourself, stood straighter. Your team would have no idea why you felt so comfortable mouthing off to a man who, otherwise, might’ve had you thrust into the bowels of space by now--and to be honest, you didn’t have much of an idea why at this point, either. Your presumed protection was hardly a current presence in your life. 

You shook your head, wagged out your hands. “Let me try again, sir.” Clearing your throat, you continued, “General Hux, sir. To what do I owe the honor?”

Hux smirked. “As much as I hate to interrupt, Lieutenant,” he said, continuing to let the word drip with more venom than a snake ever could, “I’m here to order you to come with me onto the Steadfast.”

“The Steadfast?” Obviously the name of a ship, but not one you were familiar with. No news bulletins had made their way to Orinda in the time you’d been stationed. “Why?”

“The Supreme Leader’s TIE fighter has ceased functioning. Every engineer we’ve brought to it has failed to diagnose the issue.” His jaw tensed in real, actual reluctance. “We were at the border of the Rim, and unfortunately, I thought of you.”

You blinked. He wanted you to work on Snoke’s TIE fighter? 

And then another question: Snoke had a TIE fighter? 

“Uh…” Frowning, you glanced around at your crew. You couldn’t stand the thought of leaving them for days on end. “How long will I be gone?”

His face betrayed nothing but pure disgust. “As long as it takes you to fix a TIE fighter.” He watched as you paused in thought. “I wasn’t offering you a choice, Lieutenant. We’re leaving now.”

With that, he turned on his heels, marching up the ramp. A long, slow breath left your lungs, and you turned to your team, scanning their faces for any reaction. To your surprise, everyone but Tonis seemed rapt in excitement, eyes wide and chins wagging in awe. 

“I had no idea you were such a big shot!” Lin grinned. The other two nodded in agreement.

Blushing, you rubbed your arm in embarrassment, looking between them. “No, no,” you said. “Nothing like that.”

“You have to tell us the story, one day.” Mirna was smirking.

“Uh… Right.” You coughed. “So, hopefully I’ll only be a day or so, max,” you said. “Mirna, you’re in charge while I’m gone.”

“You got it, Chief,” she said. “Tonis, my first order is for you to please calm down.”

He shot her a glare. “Good luck, Chief!” He offered you a salute, which was both strange and unnecessary. “We’ll be thinking of you!”

Warmth spread in your chest. “I’ll be thinking of you guys, too. Don’t make too big of a mess, okay?”

“Yes ma’am!” they replied in unison--and then broke into laughter. 

You shook your head, finding yourself laughing with them. “Okay. See you guys soon.” 

Bowing your head, you trudged up the ramp into the transporter, taking a seat far away from Hux and the two Stormtroopers. You wondered why he’d bothered to bring them to a tiny outpost like Orinda, but you supposed that self-importance and paranoia knew no bounds in the higher ranks of the First Order. 

As the door closed to the transporter, your heart wrinkled. In the past few months, despite your open ache, Orinda had become your home, your crew had become something akin to your family. You hoped the issue with the TIE fighter was something stupid, like a busted hyperdrive. They were simple to repair, but most engineers wouldn’t mess with lightspeed travel--the mechanisms were so delicate that even a simple mistake could result in splitting the ship. 

The transporter rose into the air, and in seconds, it burst into the sky. A windowless cargo meant you could only imagine the faces of your crew as you disappeared into the horizon. You sighed, watching your feet as they jostled with the jerking of the ship. You weren’t sure what the Steadfast was like, but apparently Snoke had moved his operations there. Though you still had no clue what Snoke looked like, you’d never imagined him to be the type to fly--but perhaps a Supreme Leader required multiple skillsets.

The awkward ride finished without a single word being exchanged between you and Hux, which was fine by you, and possibly finer by him. When the ramp lowered, he speared you with his gaze, waiting for the troopers to exit before standing and ordering you to follow him with only his eyes.

You tromped down the ramp into the hangar on the Steadfast--it looked almost identical to the one on the Finalizer. The ceilings stretched high, like a giant’s mouth, the magnetic shields glowing teeth at the lips of the bay. Ships buzzed above you, racing in and out of their docks, the floor crowded with soldiers and officers alike. 

The rush hit you--sure, the time on Orinda had been fantastic, engaging, rejuvenating. But it would never match the thrill of working in the presence of fleets and fleets of warships, surrounded by the heady spell of urgent, prestigious labor. You sucked it through your nose, held it in your chest, unable to stop your eyes from lingering on every busted ship they saw. In the distance, a team huddled around the smoking wing of a TIE fighter--you bit your lip to prevent yourself from racing over, from tearing it apart for them.

Another thing you weren’t able to stop looking for was any hint, any presence of the Commander--but in the bay, you didn’t even catch evidence of the Command Shuttle. It was a huge assumption to guess he’d be on the Steadfast to begin with, but part of you hoped he’d trailed his precious Supreme Leader to any place he was ordered. It figured that the one time you might have been within thinking distance, he’d managed to make himself scarce. 

Another twine in your heart snapped, joining the collection that’d been unfurling since you’d departed the Finalizer. 

Yes, he’d said he would find you. You still believed him now, even. 

But really. What was taking him so damn long?

Hux led you to a wide dock toward the very front of the hangar. The crews you spotted along the way seemed detached, working without words, communicating with gestures and mirthless expressions. Tonis’ silly salute would never happen here. You frowned. The lack of thrill was worth your autonomy.

“Lieutenant.”

A snap of your head, and you blinked. You were in front of your charge. 

This TIE fighter was unlike one you’d ever seen. Instead of the flat panel wings, this one bore talons, sharp knives capable of cutting space and possibly any ship in its way. Red-paned transparisteel formed the cockpit into a muzzle, imitating an animal instead of a sphere. And it wasn’t a ball suspended on plates, but was rather tucked tight into the body of the ship, creating a seamless, dynamic transition that to you, seemed so new, so modern. It was almost--sexy? 

You looked to Hux. “Are you sure this is the one that isn’t working?” Lips parted in awe, you stepped up to it, placing a hand on the solar array. “It’s gorgeous.”

“The Supreme Leader has been unable to fly it for cycles, now,” said Hux. “I’m sure.”

“All right.” You rolled your eyes. “Got it.” 

What you needed was a post-flight report. You strode over to the nearest terminal and entered your credentials--thankfully, as a Lieutenant now, they were universal to the entire First Order system. Only one ship was logged underneath the access: TIE/vn space superiority fighter: SILENCER.

“TIE silencer?” you mumbled. “Where do they come up with these names?”

You investigated the reports in the past several cycles that detailed the attempts by engineers to get the thing working: thrusters aligned, check. Solar lines flushed, check. Refuel port cleansed, check. Heat calibration reset and replaced, check. 

And yet with each new repair--engine test: fail. 

Engine test: fail. 

Engine test: fail, fail, fail. 

Screwing your lips in thought, you landed on the post-flight report, hoping it would provide you with insight. If he knew what was good for him, Supreme Leader Snoke would be thorough.

You opened the report, and paragraphs of information flooded the screen. Your jaw dropped. Every single system had been left with a meticulously in-depth account of its status before, during, and after flight. The level of specificity contained within each sentence astounded you. It was almost unbelievable that a single person could remember this much, let alone regurgitate it with any level of accuracy. You groaned, lost in Basic.

Hux cleared his throat. “How long do you anticipate this taking, Lieutenant?” 

“As long as I--...” You stopped yourself with a grumble. It would be much easier to hear it from the tauntaun’s mouth, instead of pouring over and cross-checking every single detail. “I’m not sure, General. Is there any way I could speak with the Supreme Leader?” 

A strange, smug look passed over his face. ���Certainly,” he replied. “I’ll take you.”

You blinked. That was easy. Almost too easy. “Uh… okay.”

Hux turned on his heel, clipped stride cutting through the hangar. You hadn’t been prepared to meet the Supreme Leader when you woke up this morning, but you supposed anything was possible when working for the First Order. Swallowing, you shut down the terminal, and followed him into the halls.

Returning to a Star Destroyer, in a way, felt like home--the glossy black tile passed like a familiar path beneath your feet, and you spared fleeting glances to the Stormtroopers who passed you. The halls of the Steadfast maintained their similarity to everything else on the Finalizer--though that did nothing to assuage your anxiety about the memories you’d had on that ship. Or who may or may not be on this one. 

“Do you work on the Steadfast, now, sir?” 

Hux was silent for a moment, gaze trained forward. “Yes. The Finalizer was decommissioned.”

“Wait, really?” Your heart thumped. The only datapad message you’d received from your friends had come in the first few weeks after your departure. You just assumed they’d been busy. “What happened?”

“A Resistance attack left it crippled,” he replied. “Leadership and surviving crew were transferred to the Steadfast.”

Terror seized you, your pace quickened. “Sur-surviving crew?” you asked. “Sir?” More silence. You stumbled to catch up with him, fighting the tremor in your voice. “Sir--”

“Engineers Foster and Loren were transferred to this vessel unharmed, Lieutenant.” He leered at you. “Satisfied?”

You heaved a massive sigh, hands falling to your knees. They were here. You’d have to catch up with them, soon. 

“Yes, sir, thank you--” 

By the time you’d finished, he’d already managed to make it what seemed to be fifty paces ahead of you, and you scrambled to keep up with him. 

As you did, a grey-haired man emerged from the corner in front of you both, and Hux stiffened, cursing under his breath. Raising a brow, you tried to meet this man’s gaze, only to bump into the general, who’d stopped, limbs pinned to his sides.

“Shit!” Your face burned, and you jumped back, snapping to attention. “I mean, uh, sorry, General, sir.”

The look Hux offered you was similar to one a parent might offer a simpering child. Right before they murdered that child in a fit of blind rage.

“General Hux,” said the grey-haired man. “Just the one I was looking for.” 

“Allegiant General Pryde.” Hux’s chin jutted to the ceiling. 

The Allegiant General Pryde turned his attention to you, glimpsing your uniform before meeting your eyes. “I’m afraid we’re not acquainted, Lieutenant…”

You gave your name. “Sir.” Clearing your throat, you continued, “I’m Chief of Operations on Orinda.”

“Ah.” His gaze lingered on the fuel cell filth smattering your chest. “Of course.” Something within his eyes categorized you in league with rodents--and something else within them told you he crushed rodents for sport. “Interesting.” His attention whipped back to Hux. “General. Regarding the Council meeting…”

“I plan to present the Supreme Leader with my plan, sir.”

“I know you do,” Pryde replied, “but you failed to run it by me.”

Hux’s jaw tensed. You wished you were anywhere other than this extremely awkward hallway meeting that had absolutely nothing to do with you.

“Forgive me, Allegiant General,” Hux said, “but I didn’t think a basic unit efficiency research required your approval.”

“Everything requires my approval, General,” he said. “Lest we forget the errors of Starkiller Base.”

That was a low blow. You gulped. They both looked at you, and you cleared your throat again, throwing your hands behind your back. The energy radiating from Hux could be classified as skin-scorching. 

“Of course.” Hux’s tone grew tighter with each word that left his lips. “I’ll remember that next time, sir.”

“Good.” Pryde glanced between you. “What brings a facility chief from her station all the way to the Steadfast?”

“The Supreme Leader’s TIE fighter, sir,” Hux replied, still staring into the air. “She may be the only engineer capable of repairing it.”

The Allegiant General frowned. “Really. How many resources did you expend picking up a single person from a remote outpost?” he asked. “Do you not consider this to be something I should know?”

“It was a brief excursion,” he said. “I took two Stormtroopers and a single transport unit.”

“Was that unit’s excursion approved?” He circled Hux, a silvered predator, sizing up his prey. For once, you almost felt bad for the ginger bastard. “What if Resistance staged an attack while you were gone? If we needed that unit for more than a handful of bodies?”

Hux’s lips pursed, chin dimpling with tension. “I don’t know, sir.”

“And how do you think the Supreme Leader will feel knowing you acted without approval, all to retrieve a single engineer?”

Silence drifted like fog over the three of you, thickening as this grey-haired power-laden dickhead glared at General Hux. But Hux’s back had aligned, parallel to the wall, every flicker of frustration fled from his frame. The tiniest hint of a smirk curled at his mouth.

“I think he’ll be just fine with it. Sir.” Hux’s brow quirked. “We’re on our way to speak with him now, if you’d like to accompany.”

Pryde grinned, a serpent’s twist to his smile. “Your confidence has failed you in the past, General,” he replied. “Lead the way.”

You trailed behind the Allegiant General and Hux, fingers starting to quake. Now, you’d not only be meeting the Supreme Leader still smothered in space dust, you’d be meeting him accompanied by the two biggest assholes in the First Order--second only to one other, perhaps. 

Unfortunately, that particular asshole was a ghost to this ship, and there wasn’t anyone in particular you felt comfortable asking about him. If Hux had been superceded by this new jerk, the last thing you wanted was another opportunity for someone with rank greater than your own to question you about your personal relationships. 

Dread pooled in your belly. Supreme Leader Snoke did know about your personal relationship with the Commander. In fact, Snoke had been the one to insist you be his conduit, among other insulting things. You imagined him bringing it up: Ah, yes, the engineer, the distraction… and how have you been, without his cock inside of you?

You shook your head. No, it didn’t make sense for him to bring up his apprentice’s dick at your first meeting. Or any meeting, for that matter. You hoped.

The two men led you through the rest of the journey in silence, animosity prickling like durasteel barbs in the air between them. At least your own team didn’t regard you with vibrodaggers behind their backs--as far as you knew, anyway--and the realization, against the backdrop of your current situation, had you aching to leave. The discussion with the Supreme Leader would be swift and succinct; you’d get the information you needed, diagnose the problem, and be on your way back to Orinda. 

In front of you, a massive turbolift sang its arrival, blast door whirring open. You followed the two men inside, heart tingling. Maybe part of you had been hoping that your long-awaited reunion would have occurred during your time aboard--as you thought it, you tried to stymie the resentment that you’d waited this long at all. The rational part of your mind reasoned that he was a busy man, that lack of contact didn’t indicate lack of thought. 

But every other part of your mind was staving off bubbling despair. Four months had felt like four years, and you’d only grown more desperate, more anxious for his embrace--then furious that he didn’t appear to return the sentiment. 

You knew how he felt. So it didn’t make sense, then, why he hadn’t acted on it for even a single, solitary night in the past sixteen weeks.  

When the blast door opened, you crossed the threshold into an obsidian sanctuary. The floor gleamed, a black lake of glass sweeping into high ebony ceilings that twinkled with artificial stars. The only other illumination came from two enormous spheres that hung, suspended in air at opposite ends of the room, their surfaces a swirl of white-grey light, imitation suns with colorless coronas. At the far end of the room was a hovering stone throne, six dark figures crowding it in a crescent. 

Your heart stammered--you’d seen them before. In memories that hadn’t belonged to you. All of them were outfitted in clothing that seemed familiar, helmets that hid their identities, and each of them possessed a weapon meant explicitly for assassination. The only conclusion you could draw was that they were the Supreme Leader’s bodyguards. 

Whoever they were, to you, they were ominous.

The two men in front of you strode forward, and you followed, catching your reflection whispering by your shoes: your hair was mussed with evidence of engine exhaust, your uniform still glowing with smears of ionization. Internally, you cursed yourself. Yeah, this was exactly how you’d wanted to look when meeting the Supreme Leader of the First Order--like complete shit. Stomach sinking, you sidled behind them as they stood at attention. 

“Supreme Leader,” they said simultaneously.

As if on command, the wall of shadowed soldiers parted to reveal the throne. 

But no one was there.

You blinked. “Oh.” 

Hux’s head swiveled between the strangers in front of you. “Where is he?” He turned to Pryde. “These are his receiving hours--”

“Yes,” replied the Allegiant Asshole. “But perhaps he’s departed early for the Supreme Council meeting. We’d be better off--”

The turbolift doors wailed behind you, and like synchronized chronometers, you, Hux, and Pryde spun to meet the new arrival. 

Your brain went blank.

Kylo Ren crossed the shimmering sable floor in a confident stride, his robes replaced now with padded armor that clung to the contours of his powerful, thick chest, his broad shoulders covered with a hooded cape. His fists, still bound in leather, flexed at his sides--and his face... 

More beautiful, more arresting than you could have conjured in any memory, his lips still pink and plush, his nose still a long line, his hair still rolling in waves, like black silk-velvet at his shoulders. You met his eyes as he advanced, finding them guarded, resurrecting every fear and insecurity, tempering them with hidden warmth. 

“Generals.”

The voice was lightning through your limbs, its owner a perfect match to the soft baritone you’d replayed in your dreams for the past one hundred and fifty two days. All of your systems leapt to life at once: brain spinning, heart soaring, adrenaline coursing. Sweat soaked your neck, your figure thrust whole into a furnace.

“Sir!” Both bowed their heads.

Gazing at him, then, you realized what was happening. This was his throne. You were working on his TIE fighter. Kylo Ren, your lover, your obsession, your galaxy was now the de-facto leader of the actual galaxy. You weren’t in love with the First Order’s Commander, anymore. 

You were in love with its Supreme Leader. 

Shock anchored your mouth open. Your eyes welled with latent tears. You grinned in disbelief.

“Dude!” You laughed. “What the fuck!”

[rocksandrobots]

Phantoms of the Past: Ch. 5 - Best friends, Boyfriends, and Barons Part 1

"Hey Miss Itamae! Ready for a whole new school year? Hee...hee...eeeh.... yeah, fine." Hiro gave up trying to make small talk with the lunch lady as she unceremoniously slopped meatloaf onto his plate.

Today was the first day of the fall semester and the start of Hiro's second year at SFIT.  It felt odd to him, to look back and realize just how much time had passed; how much things had changed during the previous year.

A year ago, today, he had been attending Tadashi's funeral and now he was going about his life as if everything was normal. Well, almost normal. He was also moonlighting as a superhero, adopting an out of time teenager as his new big brother, and befriending deadly robots.

Life was weird.

Of course it wasn't as if he could ignore his loss completely. He had noticed the flowers and cards placed at the foot of Tadashi's memorial over by the exhibition hall. People still remembered that his brother had died a hero. Folks that he didn't even know had left their condolences today, though most of the gifts were from Tadashi's teachers and friends.

Hiro had particularly noticed a painting Honey Lemon had left, of her, Tadashi, and the rest of their friends. He also spotted Gogo sitting out there early that morning, lighting a candle in his brother's memory. He had given her her space, choosing not to interrupt. Gogo and Tadashi had been especially close.

Hiro remembered how excited his brother had been when Gogo finally agreed to go out with him. Tadashi had hurried about their bedroom, a couple of days before the fire, fretting over where to take her on their first date. A date that they had never gotten to go on. At the time Hiro had teased him relentlessly, never passing up the chance to deflate his brother's ego. Now it was just another bittersweet memory to look back on.

Fred abruptly snapped him out of his mournful reflection. "Steve." was all he said as he grabbed Hiro by the shoulders.

"Steve? Uh, my name is Hiro, remember Fred?"

"No, no, no, Steve was the name of the ninja robot that Trina found. She said he was held in a warehouse downtown, along with all the other ninjas. Don't you see, that's our big break! We find this warehouse and then we can track down the mysterious bosu!"

Hiro wearily placed his tray down on the table and took a seat next to Wasabi.

"Fred, it's the first day of school. Can't this wait for later?"

"But-"

"Hiro's right Fred," Wasabi interrupted, "Just because you have all the time in the world to play superhero doesn't mean that we do. We still got our own lives to take care of."

Fred looked hurt at that. "I'm not playing! This is important work. We have a city to protect and this crime boss is just going to keep coming after us if we don't figure out how to stop them."  

Wasabi rolled his eyes. "Then you just go on and do that. In the meantime the rest of us have class to attend. I'm heading early to set up for my first lab."

"But labs won't open for like another hour." Hiro pointed out, confused. "They're still cleaning up from the robot attacks last week."

"Ah, he just wants to get there early so that he can see his boyfriend again." Fred complained.

"Sam's not my boyfriend. He's just a colleague, and at least I'm doing something other than obsess over superheroing." And with that Wasabi stormed off, while Fred slouched into the cafeteria chair with a huff.

"Listen, Fred, why don't you go on patrol with Minimax for a while. I'll help you track down this warehouse after school is over with." Hiro said.

"Okay," Fred reluctantly agreed, "but I'm not 'obsessing'."

"I know Fred, but the rest of us also have school to worry about. We just don't have the same amount of free time as you do."

"I know." Fred sighed before walking off.

                                                ---------------------------

"Sorry Hiro, but we're kind of busy right now." Honey Lemon regretfully informed her friends.

Fred and Hiro had met up after school as promised. Wasabi had declined to join them on their quest and so they had decided to recruit the girls instead. Though this also seemed to be a fruitless endeavor.

"Yeah, we're kind of in the middle of something." Gogo finished as she leaned back in a reclining chair and placed two cucumber slices over her eyes.

They had found the girls at a spa. Honey Lemon sat next to Gogo with curlers in her hair, and they apparently weren't the only ones out having a beauty day.

"Can't you see we're having some girl time?" Karmi asked, annoyed, as she examined her nails.

"Yeah, Hiro, go take your weird superhero hobby elsewhere?" Megan added.

"It's not weird!" Fred insisted.

"If this is supposed to be a girls only event, then why is he here?" Hiro said, pointing to Varian, who sat next to Megan.

"Uh, getting a manicure obviously." Varian rolled his eyes and then leaned over to show Carol, who was beside him, two bottles of nail polish. "Do you think I should go with the midnight blue or just stick with black?"

"Hmmm... I think either would be nice," she replied.

"Ooooh, have you tried the seaweed wrap they have here? It's great." Fred chimed in.

Hiro rolled his eyes, "Okay, so what are you two doing after this? Could you take up patrol tonight?"

"Nope." Gogo said.

"I promised my brother Carlos that I would help him move into his new dorm room. He starts at UCLA this week and Gogo's offered to drive me there. We won't be back till tomorrow morning." Honey Lemon explained.

"Okay, well, we'll just-"

"Alright, I'm ready." A voice called out, interrupting him.

Trina walked out from behind a door at the back of the spa. Her bulky gigantic metal body was gone and in its place was the frame of a young woman, dressed in a t-shirt, pants, and a cropped jacket. She looked very much the same as the day Hiro had first met her, at the bot fights. Only this time her hair had been cut and styled into a short mohawk and dyed a light purple.

"What do you guys think?" She asked as she twirled around.

Everyone shouted encouragements to her, and Varian cheekily whistled.

"You look nice, Trina." Hiro complimented.

Trina snorted and rolled her eyes. "In your dreams, Hiro." She said, leaving the teenage genius confused by what he had said wrong.

Ignoring him, Trina walked over to the rest of the girls, "Thanks for the clothes... and for everything else." She sheepishly added.

"Hey, no problem." Megan replied. "They look good on you."

"Yeah, and if you need anything else just ask." Karmi added.

"Not to mention it's always fun to have a spa day," Carol piped in. "This was a good idea Varian, thanks for inviting me along."

"Sure thing. When Trina said she wanted help with finding a new wardrobe, I figured all of you would like to go shopping too.... and also y'all know more about clothes than I do."

"Hey, Trina," Fred interjected, "that warehouse where you foun- I mean, met 'Steve', do you happen to remember where it was located?"

Trina gave Fred a frown.

"Oooh, who's Steve?" Karmi asked, happy to gossip, "Is that your boyfriend Trina?"

"No." She said, "The place you're looking for is over in Good Luck Alley, next to Louie's."

"It must've been a bad breakup." Karmi whispered into Honey Lemon's ear, she wasn't very good at keeping her voice down.

"Yeah… he kind of... broke alright." Honey Lemon nervously added, unsure what to say.

"Uh, yeah, well thanks for the tip Trina. We'll be going now, bye." Hiro said as he hurried Fred out the door. He had had enough of awkward conversations and makeovers.

                                               ---------------------------

"Fred, wouldn't it be better if we brought our robots along at least?" Hiro whispered.

"You want to sneak around an abandoned warehouse with those two?" Fred whispered back, "I love him, but Minimax doesn't know how to be quiet, like at all."

Hiro sighed, Fred had a point. Baymax also wasn't the best at stealth missions. Hiro slid into the alleyway and peered through a dirty window. He couldn't shake the sense of deja vu as he remembered how he and the robotic nurse had tracked down his missing microbots a year ago at a similar warehouse. They had both been nearly killed by Callaghan when the villain had caught them snooping around. He would prefer to avoid such a scenario again.

"It doesn't look like anyone is here." He said.

"See any ninja robots?" Fred asked as he also pushed by to get a look, pressing his nose against the glass.

"No… Fred, this may be a dead end. Trina already raided the place and no doubt this Bosu would have abandoned the hideout if it was compromised."

Fred pouted, "Maybe… Buuuut, we could always man a stake-out and find out for sure!"

"Fred, I have homework to do. Maybe some oth-"

"Oh please! Just for an hour, or two? Please, please, please? Pretty please? I'll do your homework for you."

"I don't want you doing my homework."

"Okay, chores then; I'll wash Varian's dirty socks and underwear for a… a week… no, a month! Come on, I know how much you hate doing laundry."

Hiro sighed and watched his friend crawl on his knees and beg. "Does it really mean that much to you?"

"Yeeeesss."

"Okay, and no, you don't have to do the laundry either."

Hiro turned to walk out of the alley and Fred got up and followed him.

"That's good, cause I don't actually know how to wash clothes. Usually, Heathcliff does all the laundry. Last time I tried to, I just flooded the washroom."

"Do you have any survival skills? Like at all?"

"Nope. Unless it's kicking bad guys' butts! Ooh, hey, we can host the stake-out at Louie's across the street. I'm starved."

                                               ---------------------------

Hiro and Fred took up a window booth inside the restaurant. The establishment had recovered from the police raid from a few months back and was now serving food as usual; though Hiro had already spotted the advertisement for the next upcoming 'bot fight.

A couple of hours past and they had both eaten their meals, plus dessert, along with Fred going back for seconds. Now they were both nursing a couple of cups of coffee, though Hiro's was going cold; it wasn't great coffee.

"Fred…"

"Yeah."

"It's been three hours now."

"I know."

"No one's showed up."

"Not yet."

"Look it's been… 'fun', but I'm going home now."

Hiro got up to leave but Fred grabbed him by the sleeve.

"Oh but… uhh… we haven't even tried the uh… hot dog sushi special. I hear it's really good."

Hiro leaned his head back slowly and closed his eyes in frustration. He didn't want to snap at Fred, really he didn't, but he was quickly losing his patience.

"Fred… no one is coming. Let's just call it a night and try again some other time. Okay." And with that he yanked his hand away and began to walk off.

Fred didn't follow. Instead he sat in the booth, his eyes downcast, staring blankly at nothing. It wasn't his usual pout either. It was something else. Some deeper sadness that few saw from the usually optimistic teen.

Hiro began to worry. He walked back, and stood there waiting for Fred to jump back up all excited again for his return, only he didn't.

"Fred, what's wrong?"

Fred sighed but couldn't bring himself to answer.

"Look, I know that this superhero business is important to you, so much so that you'll probably wind up making a career out of it, which is great, but the rest of us are not going to be doing this for the rest of our lives. We also have to keep up with our studies, chores, our jobs, and what little shred of a social life we have."

"That's not it… I mean yeah, it's a part of it, but that's not why I asked you to come along."

Fred finally looked Hiro in the eye and tears threatened to spill.

"I just miss my best friend, okay."

Hiro looked at him confused.

"I didn't want to say anything, cause… cause he's your brother and I didn't think you'd want to be reminded about him being gone any more than you already have… but today has just been really hard… remembering what happened… I just thought getting out and doing something fun, getting both our minds off everything, might be better than just… just being alone. You know? Especially today."

Fred didn't even have to say Tadashi's name for Hiro to know who he was talking about.

Hiro sighed and slumped back down into the booth.

"I'm sorry…. I… I guess I just… I don't know. I didn't think...."

"No… no, don't. Of course you didn't think. I mean who wants to be reminded of that. The whole idea was to not think about it. And I just ruined it all by bringing it up. Gah…. I'm so sorry."

Fred put his arms over his head and brought his knees up to his chest as if trying to make himself as physically small as he felt. Hiro just had to laugh at the sight in spite of himself.

"It's okay Fred. You're not going to upset me just by talking about Tadashi."

Fred peaked his head out from between his arms. "I'm not?"

"No. I mean he was your friend too."

"My best friend! Man, Tadashi and I, we got up to all sorts of trouble. He was always down for anything. I mean, did he tell you about the time we crashed my cousin's bar mitzvah? As in, we literally crashed. He drove the sport's car into the buffet table by mistake… We couldn't find the parking and then there was this wet patch in the parking lot and we skidded… Oh and then there was the time Mole dared us to a drag race using scooters and Tadshi had the idea to attach rockets to mine and I went flying.. I tell ya, man, Mole wouldn't live it down for a whole week after. He kept demanding a rematch, but I mean it was fair. He was using his butler to ride for him in his place."

Hiro could barely contain his laughter, "Wait… wait… you and Tadashi did all this?"

"Yeah."

"Why have I never heard of any of this before?"

"I don't know, but he's the whole reason why I got the mascot job in the first place. I knew I could never get into the school myself, but I thought we could hang out together more if I went. He's also the one that introduced me to everybody else."

"Then how did you two meet?"

"Oh at the grocery store."

Fred said this as if it was the most obvious of explanations but Hiro looked as confused as ever. So Fred continued on.

"He was there getting chewing gum and I was buying a shopping cart. Like an actual shopping cart."

"Why?"

"Yeah that's what he asked too. So I told him, 'I'm going to ride down Dead Man's Hill in one.' And he said, 'Dude, that's so rad. You're totally going to die.' And I said, 'Yeah, I know. You wanna join?' And he did. We rode all the way down from the top of Lumbar Street to the docks… and landed right in the bay. It was awesome! We screamed our heads off the whole time. It was so awesome, in fact, that we walked back to the store and bought another cart just to do it again. That was back when we were both still in high school, and we've been best buds ever since. You know… until…"

Hiro looked at Fred sadly. There so much about his brother that hadn't known about, hadn't even thought to ask. What else had Tadashi not shared with him? Probably a lot, I mean why tell your kid brother about your social life? And there's no way that he'd have brought those crazy stunts up around Aunt Cass.

"I never knew any of that… Those are some really cool stories. Thanks for sharing them."

"Really?"

"Yeah, and you know, you don't have to drag me on some superheroing mission just to hang out and talk."

Fred looked guilty at that.

"I… I know… but it's like what you and Wasabi have been saying. Everyone else has something… something to motivate them, and y'all all do all these really cool things and I'm… I'm just me. I don't really have anything but superheroing. Unless you just need someone to make a mess."

"That's not true. Fred, you're great at a lot of things. You could go to school or get a job, if you wanted to. I just thought superheroing was all you wanted."

"Hiro, I can't even do laundry without messing up. I mean all you do is throw the clothes into a machine and push a button, and yet somehow I managed to screw even that up. All I know is comic books, and superheroing, and I'm not even the best at that! What would I even go to college for? I can't… I'm not a genius. I'm not a businessman. I'm not an accountant, or an artist, or an athlete. I'm not anything. I've no talent. I'm not even good at being rich. I've never fit in with the socialite crowd."

"Fred."

"Yeah?"

"You're good at being a friend, and if I have to sit here list off everything else you're good at then we'd be here for another three hours or more. So how about we head home and tomorrow I'll show you how to work a washing machine, and you can teach me how a stake-out is supposed to really go cause we're not getting anywhere here."

"Or are we?"

"What do you mean?"

Fred was no longer looking at Hiro but past him. He pointed to the window behind Hiro, and Hiro turned around to see for himself.

An elderly gentleman, dressed in an old fashioned military outfit, complete with a monocle, was entering the warehouse. He had a giant mechanical arm and a steam boiler strapped to his back.

"Baron Von Steamer."

                                               ---------------------------

Fred and Hiro found themselves standing in the alley peering through the warehouse's dirty windows for a second time that day. They saw Baron Von Steamer stomping around inside. He seemed irritated as he grumbled to himself and knocked boxes out of the way, as if searching for something.

"What's he doing?" Fred loudly whispered.

Just then Steamer found what he was looking for, a tea cup. He poured himself a cup out of a teapot he had placed on an old fashioned stove that was hidden towards the back and then sat down on top of a crate to sip his drink.

"It must be 'tea time' for him." Hiro said dryly.

Fred narrowed his eyes, "I bet he's just hatching his next nefarious scheme. Planning on how to take us and the city down. What do you think he wants with portals?"  

Just then Steamer stood up and ruefully kicked away a busted up robot that had fallen out of a storage crate in his previous hunt for the tea cup.

"I don't think Steamer is our guy." Hiro said, "He hates modern technology, so why would he build ninja robots? Also, like you said, what would he want with portals? All he's after is your dad, and so far the Bosu hasn't gone after Boss Awesome yet."

"But they might. Remember what Roddy said? That Kensei guy used to be active during Dad's heyday but never got caught. What if, it's because Steamer had two villain identities!"

"That seems like a stretch."

"Okay, well, what if Steamer works for this Bosu? Like Sue and Sparkles?"

"That's more plausible, I guess."

Hiro turned to peer through the window again, but Streamer was gone.

'Wait, where did he go?'

"Well, well, well, what do we have here? A pair of interlopers." A curt British voice  came from behind them.

Steamer must have noticed them and snuck around the back, cutting them off.

Hiro grabbed his phone in order to call his super suit, but Von Steamer nabbed his hand and yanked him off the ground, causing him to lose hold of his phone.

Fred was just as unfortunate, as Steamer held him in a choke hold in his metal arm.

"Waaaait," Steamer said as he eyed them both up closely, peering at them through his oversized monocle, "I know you two. You're friends of Boss Awesome's baby child!"

"I am Boss Awesome's baby child!" Fred protested before Von Steamer gave him a hard squeeze with his cyborg arm. Fred wheezed in pain.

Hiro reacted quickly and kicked the steampunk baron in the shins.

Von Steamer howled in pain and dropped Hiro in surprise, though he managed to keep his grip on Fred. He also had stepped on Hiro's phone while nursing his injured leg.

Hiro ducked and ran as Steamer regained his senses and pulled out a brass gun that was connected to the boiler on his back with a hose. He pulled the trigger and scalding steam shot out. Hiro ducked again to avoid it.

As he ran out of the alley way he heard Steamer shouting after him, "Yes, run back to Boss Awesome little one. Tell his baby child I have their friend, and either he, or they, must show up to face me or else!"

Hiro spared a glace backwards and saw Baron Von Steamer dragging Fred back into the warehouse.

"Fred!"

"Hiro!" Fred called out to him before being pulled into the darkness.

Hiro panicked. What could he do? Finally, he decided that getting help was the best option. He ran as fast as his legs would carry him, fighting back his worry.

[majorsoapfan]

The Umbrella Academy Season 3 Episode Titles Analysis

Now that the episode titles for season 3 have dropped, I’ve spent the last few days wondering and theorizing just what they could mean. Most of what I’ve gotten so far rests on symbolism, headcanons, potential theories and a lot of googling, but we all need some way of staying sane until season three drops, right?

Now this is just what I’ve come up with so far, I could be massively wrong in all of these, but these are just my predictions based on what I know of the characters and plot so far, previous ways of naming episodes and the very little I know of the comics.

Meet The Family

Now this one is very self-explanatory and we’ll most likely get to know our birdies very well in this episode. We’ll probably be seeing a flashback to the Sparrows as children fighting crime - maybe already being better at it than their Umbrella counterparts were when they first started.

I’m hoping that we’’ll see another montage of introducing the siblings as adults like we saw in season one with our Umbrellas - which had been so helpful to me at the time as I had started watching the show about a week before season two dropped. I had known absolutely nothing about the show when I started, I had only clicked on it because Robert Sheeran was in the card as Klaus with his pink umbrella and I thought he was pretty. I became a massive fan all because I had thought Robert was pretty and I was bored.

So yeah, I loved the initial introduction montage of the siblings as it helped me figure out who was who quickly without wasting time. And I think that doing something similar for the Sparrows will also help give a better and quicker insight into their personalities and how they work when we see them in episode one.

The World’s Biggest Ball of Twine

If you google ‘ball of twine’ it does mention that this is an archetype for an odd roadside attraction. Now if we’re going literal here, there are plenty of such attractions in the States, including one of just this in Texas, where our dysfunctional family had been last season. Maybe an indication of a road trip or even them fleeing the Sparrows and New York in order to regroup and figure out their next step without the birds circling in?

Ball of twine can also mean wrapping really strongly around something, especially as the material mentioned is usually very strong and durable. A ball of wool isn’t the episode title after all. Now this could mean maybe a family or an emotional issue that is massively at play here. Or more likely, the Umbrella’s and more specifically Five, are trying to figure out their exact steps and actions in the 60′s and just how badly they changed the past and future, both in the general sense of the world and for their own personal lives.

Ball of Twine can also mean wrapping around something tightly, so maybe a trap is being put in place or enacted. Either for the Umbrellas by the Sparrows, or the Umbrellas are trying to lure their counterparts into a trap to regain the upper hand.

Pocket Full of Lightning

Now the first thing that comes to mind when I think of this title is something like this being described or mentioned regarding a character and their abilities. Now the characters that come to mind immediately when referenced to this are either Vanya or Christopher. Or maybe it may have something to do with a team-up, more than likely the Sparrows and what can happen when they team-up and combine their powers.

But lightning also has a lot of symbolism in many different societies and periods and in all honesty, I feel like I have to mention this. Symbolism includes but isn’t limited to: illumination, destruction, punishment, inspiration and revelations. Lightning is also highly associated with the King of the Greek Gods Zeus. Maybe Marcus or Reginald?

Marcus is after all described as a natural leader after all, gaining perhaps a Zeus like image in the public eye?

Whereas Reginald on the other hand would definitely see himself as being as King and acts like it at times, using his children as his soldiers to advance his agendas. Zeus isn’t a very kind or forgiving God either so unlike Marcus maybe this has something to do with the Hargreeves patriarch?

Kugeblitz

Thank you Tumblr for having already given me the definition for this episode title when I had first found out the episode titles so I know that it means a black hole formed from radiation.

Luther and Five when I think of this title in terms of its definition a kugeblitz has me thinking of both space and science, as both topics are highly associated with these characters. Black holes have ties to space which Five who’s powers are teleportation and Luther who spent four years up in space both have ties to a title like this.

But of course we can’t forget the actual alien in the family Reginald Hargreeves. A black hole could be a reference as to what happened to his original planet, or maybe signalling a potential threat later on in the season. Will it cause another apocalypse or a warning for an alien invasion perhaps?

But it also might have links to a well known Umbrella Academy villain, Dr Terminal. I haven’t read the comics so I will admit to a lack of knowledge on this villain although I will Google him later. But as the season will be focusing on the Sparrow Academy and potentially any previous villains, Dr Terminal seems to be the most well known in the fandom and thus the most likely to make an appearance, whether in flashbacks or in person. A few people here seem convinced that this episode title will have something to do with him in some form.

Kindest Cut

When I think of this episode title, my first thought goes of course, to Diego. People can often get cut with knives and they are of course Diego’s preferred weapon of choice.

Maybe however they are referring to another powered sibling and what harm their abilities can cause. Top contenders after Diego of course, are Vanya whose power we know can cut after seeing what she did to Allison at the end of ‘The Day that Was’ in a moment of anger.

But if we go with the Sparrows then Alphonso is at the top of my list. His character sheet is mentioned as him bearing the scars from his years of crime-fighting. His power is assumed to be the voodoo from the comics and if he can transfer the injuries he obtains or inflicts on himself to others, this may be what this title means.

But, and this theory I think is the one that I’m most obsessed with right now, is that the episode title could be an adaptation of the saying ‘unkindest cut’. The definition for this is ‘a cruel or devastating injury or insult inflicted on you by a supposed friend’. 

If we go by current timeline we’re in then my money is that Five may be joining the Sparrows either under duress or having worked out an agreement with Reginald that his siblings would be spared if he did. Only his family might not be aware of what Five has planned and agreed to and would only see the apparent betrayal of what they have all gone through together as a family. Of only seeing their brother join the team that probably want them dead.

But this betrayal may also be coming from the Sparrows and Sloane perhaps. Sloane is an inverse of Five in a sense in that while Five is driven by his desire to save his family, Sloane often feels like hers are holding her back from experiencing her dream of leaving. Maybe she betrays the Sparrows in some way by letting an opportunity to capture the Umbrellas flee or seeking them out as allies.

Marigold

According to what I can glean from the comics, marigold refers to the balls of light that eventually became the 43 super-powered children. So could we be getting an explanation as to how these supers came to be and why?

But like with episode three’s episode title, I can’t not mention the symbolism connected to this title. Marigolds often have conflicting symbolism today. In modern western society their bright colours often have them being associated with the sun and positive emotions and energy such as happiness, optimism and good luck. Not what I think the episode will be about.

But on the darker side of things, which is something that I do think has more ties into what to expect, is that they also refer to jealousy, grief, despair, mourning and cruelty. It is a flower associated with death and the Day of the Dead in Mexico and is said to offer protection from evil spirits. This connection with death is what I first thought of when I saw the episode title and the most obvious character associated with Death is none other than our ghost-boy Klaus Hargreeves.

Klaus as a character has a lot of ties to death naturally and I did see a post on here describing how Klaus will be entering the fourth stage of grief which is depression for both Ben and Dave during season three. This makes sense as they are now both gone in a way that not even his powers can reverse nor can he summon their spirits. Marigolds can often symbolize a despaired love and strong passion as well as well as pain and grief, so it could be a reference to Klaus’ depression over permanently losing both his closest brother and his love. But the main reason I do think that this episode does tie in heavily with Klaus is that it’s a mid season episode and so far that’s usually when Klaus undergoes most of his development. Maybe it’ll continue that way in season three.

Of course if Marigold will also represent a despaired love there are other options in the Umbrellas other than Klaus and Dave: Diego with both Eudora Patch (who is possibly still alive in this timeline) and Lila Pitts still bouncing around the timeline. Allison dealing with leaving her 60′s husband Raymond Chestnut and maybe trying to track down her ex Patrick to find out what happened to daughter Claire in this timeline and Vanya with love Sissy Cooper. Or maybe even Five and Dolores or possibly a love interest for Luther could be a reference to this title. 

Explaining how the Umbrella and Sparrows came to be wouldn’t take the whole episode giving us time for some potential (doomed) love.

Auf Wierdershen

This is very likely to be a Klaus focused episode, even if Marigold isn’t.

The episode title is German for goodbye and Klaus is the character most associated with Germany. Klaus is the only character to have spoken German during the shows events so far and his name is of German origin (interestingly enough, all of the male Sparrows bar Ben, have their names tied to Germanic origin. Meanwhile, Fei’s name is of Chinese origin, Jayme has both Spanish and Hebrew roots, while Sloane is derived from an Irish surname Ó Sluaghhadáin). Not only that but it is considered fanon that Klaus was born in Germany just like Diego and Vanya’s roots are considered to be Mexico and Russia respectively. 

Not only that but he literally has ‘goodbye’ tattooed on his hand.

‘Goodbye’ has many different interpretations for what this could mean especially if this is a Klaus centric episode like we are assuming. And like I mentionned above with Klaus going through the fourth stage of grief in season three, this might be the episode where he moves into the fifth and final stage: acceptance. Perhaps by having one last talk with Umbrella Ben in the afterlife or by trying to track down Dave after Vietnam and discovering he (seemingly - I do have hopes for Commission Dave later on) did live a long and happy life after the war. 

Mending fences with Ben and both getting the chance to air their genuine grievances with one another and mend their relationship from the horrific state it was in at the end of season two might help Klaus find closure. Klaus and Ben both love each other but they crossed a lot of lines and hurt each other deeply with their behaviours last season and they deserved the chance to try and fix the issues as well as say a proper goodbye to one another. This could give Klaus the opportunity to say just that as well as moving into accepting Ben’s death once and for all.

And when it comes to Dave, maybe just knowing that Dave moved on can help Klaus move from depression into acceptance. He was more than fine with stopping Dave from enlisting in the army during season two even knowing that it would mean that Dave would never meet or fall in love with Klaus. He was willing to sacrifice his chance at love with Dave if it meant that Dave would survive. Perhaps if he knew that Dave had been happy and safe in his later life he could then move on and say goodbye? 

And maybe by coming to terms with the departure of two of the biggest influences in his life, motivate Klaus to embrace a new outlook and control of his life and his powers?

Wedding At The End Of The World

This very clearly has ties to the very first episode of the show which is ‘We Only See Each Other At Weddings and Funerals’. Both have marriage and death connected in their titles. The characters that we know have been married so far out of our Hargreeves family so far is Reginald and Allison.

Reginald was married on his home planet when his wife died. Not a lot is known about her other than she was the original owner of Vanya’s violin in the original timeline. Maybe we’ll get information on her and just why Reginald left his home planet?

The next character married so far is Allison who so far has been married twice already (maybe they’re going three for three this time?). And judging by the episode title in season one, that event was the last time the Umbrella Hargreeves (bar Five) were all together as a family until they arrived for Reginald’s funeral. Maybe there’s a link there.

Or maybe this is referencing a whole other wedding that may be happening during the events of season three? I wouldn’t be surprised if Five reunites with Delores and decides just to get married to make it official. To paraphrase Klaus, it’s probably one of the healthiest relationships that family ever had regarding love.

Six Bells

Now this tile had me stumped for a good bit and it will probably make more sense when season three does drop and we watch the episodes, but for now I can just theories on it.

Bells have often been associated with religious services, which may tie in with the last episode, but can also be rung for important events or in deference of important people.

But what is really getting me is that the title is six bells and there are six Umbrellas left so far. Could the bells be in reference to something regarding them, some sort of trap perhaps? Which will definitely tie in in some way to the seasons finale:

Oblivion

Now like episode one this one seems fairly self-explanatory. This seems like Hotel Oblivion is finally coming into play here, meaning they are probably switching the order of stories from the comics. But the question is: if it is Hotel Oblivion, did the Umbrella’s enter the Hotel/prison out of free will or were they trapped here by the Sparrows? Anything goes at this point considering that it’s the last episode of the season.

But when it comes to the Hotel there are so many possibilities as to what happens here:

- Are all of the Umbrella’s trapped inside or did one escape and their other cell mate is a Sparrow perhaps (Sloane maybe for trying to leave the Sparrow Academy?)

- How will this set up the cliff-hanger for season four? Will all or some of the Umbrella Hargreeves be trapped in the hotel once the season ends and that helps set up the tension for the next season. Or maybe a break out of prisoners just like in the comics occurs and the Umbrella's are forced to deal with it?

-Where will this leave our Sparrows at the season end, because I know that we’re going to get attached (I know I will). Will some of them come with us into season four? Maybe they are split into two teams as the season ends, each containing a mixture of both Umbrella’s and Sparrows?

Well that’s all I have, maybe I’m right about some of it, maybe I’m all wrong, just need to wait until season three to find out.

[professorrw]

Princess of Vanaheim

Pairing: female reader x Steve Rogers

Requested: Yes

Warnings: life threatening situation, some fluff, secret relationship, multiple POVs

A/N: Sorry this took so long my computer was giving me trouble. The next thing I’m going to do is a DILF!Steve Fourth of July headcanon! Requests are open for one-shots, headcanons, imagines, and drabbles for My Hero Academia, Harry Potter, and Marvel! My taglist is open so if you’d like to be on that just tell me! Please like, comment, and reblog!

[Y/N’s POV]

It was your first time visiting Midgard and you were already in love with it. Your home Vanaheim was lovely too but it was quiet and there weren't nearly as many buildings. Being the youngest of four children you were the last to experience traveling to another planet. Your other siblings downplayed Earth and all its wonders. When they returned from their trips they acted as if it was just another day. But to you it wasn’t.

The place you decided to go was full of people and colors and sounds. In certain areas there was an unpleasant odor but you didn’t let the smell deter you. You walked past tower after tower but stopped in the one you were staying at. The entrance of the hotel was very elegant, fit for a princess as your sister stated. It was the same hotel she stayed at when she visited.

You went up the elevator and walked to room 642. The door opened with a beep when you swiped your card and you walked in. The view of New York was gorgeous and you wouldn’t be able to get enough of it during your stay. You plopped onto the bed and laid there for a second. Your eyes were about to drift close when you heard a strange noise outside. 

You jolted up from your bed and looked out the window. Your breath halted when you saw a giant portal opening in the sky.

[Steve’s POV]

There were so many invaders Steve didn’t know where to go first. On one hand he needed to stay and fight, but on the other he needed to evacuate the people of New York. The huge caterpillar looking space ships were crashing into buildings and breaking other structures. Steve sighed and set off into the streets. He stared up into the sky as he ran. The giant shadow of the ship was fast approaching, but he would have to get to the people first. 

The first building he looked into seemed to already be empty so he ran in and out of the multi-story buildings, shouting that everyone on the upper floors should evacuate. The police zoomed onto the scene and Steve passed on the message to evacuate the skyscrapers. 

Once that was taken care of he was hurrying back to the rest of the Avengers, striking down aliens as he went, when he heard a woman screaming. He looked up into the sky and saw the same woman dangling from the edge of a building many floors up. Steve sprinted into the building, skipped the elevator, and ran up the many sets of stairs, knowing it would be quicker.

While he was outside he estimated what floor the woman, which happened to be you, was on and determined it was between 15 and 20. When he got to the sixteenth floor he heard the same scream, this time closer. He ran into the hall and saw that dust was everywhere. He ran towards the voice and broke down the door to the room you were trapped in.

Your room was destroyed, that part of the building having been hit by one of the Chitauri’s spaceships. You weren’t able to move in time and fell, leaving you dangling from a broken piece of wall that was about to break. You were hanging over one hundred feet in the air, legs dangling and arms screaming for help. 

[Y/N’s POV]

A man in a red, white, and blue suit came up to you and started talking calmly. “It’s going to be okay. I’m going to get you out of here.” You nodded as he walked to the edge where you were hanging. He held out his hand and you reached up. As soon as you let go your other hand slipped. Your heart was racing and in that moment your life flashed before your eyes. You squeezed your eyes shut and prepared for impact but the only thing you felt was a strong hand gripping your wrist and pulling you up.

The man pulled you into his arms and carried your shaking body down to the bottom floor. Your arms were held tight around his neck and you glanced up at your savior. He had blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. He was one of the most handsome mortals you had ever seen. 

An uncountable amount of guests had evacuated to the lobby and he set you down among them. The man was about to run off but your caught him by his arm. “Thank you.”

He turned and said “You’re welcome,” before running back out into the chaotic streets.

You stayed inside the building watching news footage off a TV in the lobby until the fighting was over. What really shocked you was that your friend, Thor, was in the middle of the battle fighting and the person they were fighting was Thor’s brother Loki. You thought that the gods didn’t mess with Earth much but there they were. 

Once the area was clear you ran out into the street in search of Thor and the man that saved you. Just a few streets over you found them standing together. The street was littered with wreckage, meaning you had to weave around all the broken slabs of concrete and cars. 

Once you were close enough for him to hear you yelled, “Thor!”

The god turned around and when he noticed you his face lit up with recognition. “Lady Y/N!” He met you halfway and enveloped you in a hug. Meanwhile the group of heroes behind you stared at the scene. As far as they knew Thor wasn’t from Earth and therefore it would be strange for him to know anyone, especially someone that was running around the streets of New York.

The only thing similar about you two was your accents and the way you spoke.

“Whatever are you doing here?” he asked.

“It was my turn to visit Midgard. But I could ask the same of you. I saw you fighting with the mortals and against your brother no less.”

You talk with Thor as you rejoin the group, who were still confused. Upon closer inspection Steve, the man that saved your life, recognized you. “Thor, who is this?” he asked.

“Lady Y/N! Youngest princess of Vanaheim and my dear friend!” Thor put his hands on his hips and beamed at the group.

“So… are you a god too or…” the redheaded woman asked.

“Yes,” “-but my power wouldn’t have done any good in this situation,” you mutter.

“Are you also a thousand something years old?” the man in the red metal suit says.

“No, I’m only 87. I’m an infant compared to Thor.”

The same man that asked the question smacks your rescuer on the arm. “What a coincidence! Cap over here is 94! I love being one of the youngest yet the most successful person over here.”

“I’m so sorry about him. Y/N was it? I’m Steve and this is Tony, Natasha, Clint, and Bruce. We were actually about to go get something to eat, would you like to join us?” So the man that saved you is named Steve… and he’s 94… and mortal. You would have to ask him about that later.

You agree to get lunch with the ‘Avengers,’ as you found out they were called. You talked to the group, though it was mostly you, Steve, and Thor that did all the talking. Upon spending more time with him you found out your savior was a super soldier that was frozen in ice and just got defrosted not too long ago. Unbeknownst to you, Steve, and Thor the rest of the group could tell Steve was flirting with you and you were eating it up.

Once the meal was over you walked out with Thor, who was planning to go to Asgard in a few days to put Loki in prison. Since your hotel room was destroyed and so was a lot of New York you decided to tag along with them and take a short detour to visit Asgard before returning home. Until then you were unsure where you would stay.

“If you like you could stay at my apartment until then.”

You turned to Steve, “I couldn’t possibly. You’ve already saved my life, there's no need for that. I can find somewhere else to go.”

“Good luck with that.” Tony snorted as he walked off, resulting in a smack to the arm from Natasha.

“He’s got a point. With all this destruction it’ll be pretty hard to find a hotel in such a short amount of time. I think your best bet is to stay with Cap,” Clint said.

So that’s what you did. For the remaining days of your trip you stayed with Steve. When it was finally time to leave you couldn’t help but feel disappointed. You were going to miss the mortal. Right before you departed you got on your tip toes and kissed Steve on the cheek. “Thank you for saving me. And for letting me stay here.”

He stuttered for a second before smiling, “It was my pleasure. I… hope I can see you again.”

“Me too.” And with that you grabbed Thor’s arm and were transported to Asgard. You stayed there for a few days before returning home. You didn’t return to Earth for a while but while you weren’t there you couldn’t stop thinking of the super soldier. Steve was also in his home thinking of you.

Four years after your first trip you returned to New York. You found yourself longing for Steve more and more and you were bubbling over with excitement when you left for Earth again. Before you left Steve gave you a little piece of paper with his address on it, which you kept all that time.

Suitcase in hand you walked up to the door. You bit your lip and knocked on the door. You were questioning whether or not he would even remember you. The last time you saw him was four years ago. For a god it didn’t feel like very long but for a mortal it was.

You heard a shuffling from inside before there was a click and the door opened to reveal Steve, whose face immediately turned into a smile when he saw you. “Y/N! What are you doing here?”

“I’m visiting again. I wanted to see you. Well I wanted to see you the whole time I was gone but I couldn’t. I thought about you often. The only person I could tell was Thor because at my home we’re not allowed to have such feelings for a mortal- it’s forbidden- but I couldn’t help it.”

“You have feelings for me?” 

“Yes Steve. I do.” You looked down at the ground, expecting him to say that he didn’t reciprocate those feelings. But you were wrong. He lifts your chin with his hand and kisses you. You wrap your arms around his waist and melt into him.

And that began your secret relationship with Steve.

Taglist: @bellamy1998​

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

One Shot: The Stealth Suit

Summary: Katie has a Stealth Suit Kink, but who doesn’t??

Warning: SMUT SMUT SMUT NSFW and NO UNDER 18s!!

Pairings: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark.

A/N: Let’s face it…there’s no plot here bar a load of smut so…yeah.. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

“For the 500th time…I’m FINE, Steve!” Katie snapped at him. Steve took a deep breath, his hands falling to his hips as the jet fell silent. “I’m not the one with a bullet in my leg” “There’s nothing in my leg!” A voice said causing them to turn to the back of the jet where Natasha was sat, Clint wrapping her leg in a bandage. “Its just a graze…” “Nat, I’m so sorry…” Katie started and Nat shook her head, waving her hand. “Nova, I told you to take the shot.” She shrugged “It was a 50/50…ee had to take the chance. Besides, it hit him too so…” “2 people, 1 bullet…” Clint grinned, but Katie couldn’t find it in herself to smile. “I told Fury this was a bad idea…” she shook her head. “I shouldn’t have come.” Clint frowned “Hey, Nova look…I know you’re not technically an agent now but we’d have been out numbered and out gunned without you…it would have been a lot worse.” Katie didn’t say anything. Instead she simply nodded and headed over to retrieve a bottle of water before she sat down. How she had gotten roped into this she had no idea. Actually that was a lie. She knew exactly how it had happened. SHIELD had been tracking a big player who had been bragging amongst certain circles that he had something new, a game changer in the world of arms dealing- a piece of the whiplash technology that Ivan Vanko had developed and used to fight Tony back in 2010. As Tony was currently in London, Fury had asked Katie to look over the blueprints Natasha had retrieved whilst undercover. She had JARVIS confirm it was, indeed, a similar technology and that she also knew from history with Stark Industries that it would be possible to manufacture with the right equipment. That was enough for Fury to run a full scale op to exfil Natasha at the same time as shutting the target down and acquiring the designs to prevent this happening again in the future. Katie had been all set to wish them good luck when Clint had levelled her with a look and told her they were a sniper down as Evans had broken his arm in a training op. Katie had shrugged until Fury had looked at her, asking her to take a place on the field team for this particular mission, and as she had sighed Steve had turned to her and simply said that she didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to whilst crossing his arms over the front of his broad chest which was adorned with the silver star and stripes…and that was it. She had agreed.

Because she had a weakness for her soldier…and a fucking kink for that goddamned midnight blue and silver kevlar. The mission had gone to shit. They’d gotten what they needed, Katie covering the rendezvous point where they were meeting Natasha only to see her approaching being followed by a man with some form of machete looking weapon. Katie didn’t have a clear shot as Natasha started to duck and dive out of the hostile’s way but Natasha had instructed her to take it anyway. So she did and the bullet had hit it’s intended target…after first grazing Natasha’s thigh as she had thrown her legs up around the guys chest to flip him over. “Stop beating yourself yourself up about it Nova.” Rumlow piped up “Sometimes we take collateral and this time collateral was Widow.” Katie gave an angry noise and turned to Rumlow “I don’t like collateral on any fucking scale Brock…” Rumlow looked as if he was going to bite back but Steve shot him a look causing the man to fall silent. Katie shook her head and made her way back to the seat, pulling our her StarkPhone and burying herself in her actual job, replying to a few emails. Once the debrief was over and Katie had apologised, once again to Natasha, she headed off to the locker room. “You should go talk to her.” Nat looked at Steve as he stood up from where he had been undoing the buckles on his boots. “She’s pissed…” “She’s upset.” Steve corrected. “Get to Medical, that’s an order.” “I’ll see to it she does Cap.” Clint assures him. Steve gave a nod, swinging his shield up onto his back before he headed off after Katie, taking the elevator down to the floor which held the equipment stores and the changing rooms. He knocked on the female one, poking his head in as he knew she would be the only one in there given the hour and the fact Nat was the only other female on the mission. “Honey?” He asked softly as he stepped inside. She emerged from the locker area, dressed in the tight compression tank-top and shorts she wore under the catsuit. “You ok?” “No.” She admitted to him. “Not really…” He sighed and crossed towards her, pulling her into a hug. She pressed her check to his chest as he dropped a kiss to her head. “It wasn’t your fault.” He said and she shrugged in his arms. He pulled back slightly and tilted her chin up with his glove clad hand and she allowed him to capture her lips in a soft kiss. Katie pulled back, and Steve watched as she cocked her head to one side, biting her lip.

He knew that look very well. “You’re a nightmare…” he chuckled, arching an eyebrow and she shrugged, running her hands up his chest, fingers tracing the silver star. He caught her wrists in his hands and she glanced up at him, swallowing at the darkness that was now in his eyes as they flashed with desire. Without a word he reached down, hands hooking on her thighs as he hoisted her up, his lips crashing to hers, her legs wrapped around his waist, underneath the edge of his shield on his back. Shucking off his boots, he strode out of the main area of the room through to the wet room at the back where he gently set her down on the edge of the counter which held the sinks along the edge of the room. He shifted his hands to her back, holding her strongly to him, lips moving from her mouth to her jaw line and then her neck where he nipped gently. Katie gave a groan and her hands dropped to his utility belt, hastily unclipping it before she next went to the button and zips on his uniform pants. “Want something baby girl?” He teased “You know what I want…” she said as he grinned and decided to help her out. He reached for the waist band of his combats, intending on pushing them down over his hips but she stopped him. “Leave it on” “What?” He asked, his voice was gravely from his arousal and he wasn’t quite sure be had heard her right. “You know I love this suit…” she said, reaching into his flies and grabbing his length on her hand, drawing a load grunt from his mouth as she freed him through the space now his trousers were undone at the front. “Leave it on…” “Yes ma'am.” He mumbled, one hand tangling in her hair, the other on the base of her spine as he pulled her close for another deep kiss. He gripped the bottom of her compression tank top and she moved her arms so he could pull it over the top, freeing her breasts and she gave a soft sigh as his head dropped to her chest. His tongue gently traced her nipple, teasing it to a peak as his other hand rubbed at her core through her lycra shorts which were fast becoming soaked. She groaned, her head falling back as Steve grinned to himself, the sight of her simply surrendering herself completely to him in such a raw, trusting and unabashed way was something he would never tire of. His lips traced upwards and he felt her gently pushing on his chest through his uniform. Stepping back slightly, he watched as she jumped down and pushed him round so he had his back to the counter before she dropped to her knees, hands sliding up to the back of his thighs. “Fuck…” he half groaned, half cursed as Katie licked the underside of his shaft making her way from the base up to the tip. She looked up at him, his still gloved hand fell to the back of her head, gently tangling in her hair, the other one grasping at the marble counter top behind him. Maintaining eye contact, Katie wrapped her lips around him and slowly moved her mouth up and down her fingers tightening on the backs of his thighs as he did so. He allowed her to control the pace, his hand simply resting in her hair as her head moved back and forth. His eyes never left hers, the mischievous twinkle still present and as she took him to the back of her throat he let out a loud hiss as his cock twitched. His fingers tightened around the marble top and it was then that they both heard a loud cracking noise. Katie stilled, releasing him from her mouth with a small pop and looked up as Steve glanced at the place his hand rest, the side now displaying finger shaped marks in the marble. “Something got you worked up Soldier?” Katie teased and with that Steve gently tugged her hair. “Get up here…” he instructed softly and she did as she was told, rising to her feet. Grabbing her hips he spun her around and pushed her roughly against the sink basin. His hands tore the fabric of her shorts easily and he tossed the shreds of lycra to the side before he pressed his body into hers, one hand settling on her hip, the other ever so tenderly wrapped around the front of her throat. Steve leaned forward, lips by her ear as he used the hand on her neck to hold her head in place so she was looking directly in the mirror. His eyes locked onto hers as he whispered his simple instruction. “Watch” He saw a flicker in her ears, excitement, as he used his foot to knock her legs apart, bending her forwards slightly before he buried himself in her in one slow, deliberate move, eyes not once leaving hers in the mirror. He saw her face screw up in pleasure as she gave a moan at being taken this way and the hand on her throat gave a gentle squeeze. “Eyes on me doll…” he instructed. Her eyes opened again and locked back onto his as he moved his hips, rocking into her, as deep as he could get. Her back arched, her mouth freely allowing her soft cries and whispers to escape while he thrust deeply into her, again and again. The feeling was exquisite to Katie. He always felt good but now, accompanied by the feel and scratch of that suit against her skin, the noises it was making as it rustled with each movement, the clinging of buckles and belts and then the fact he was being so dominant, ensuring she did as she was told and watched him…fuck, she was all kinds of turned on here. The hand that had been on her hip crept round the front if he belly and Steve reached down, teasing her clit, causing her to shudder and a loud wail of pleasure fell from her lips. Steve chuckled slightly, eyes on hers in the mirror. “Shhhh” he said softly, before he smirked “Like that, huh?” “Fuck, yes…” she groaned, as the hand on her neck moved to the side of her face and Steve turned her head so he could kiss her, his hips moving faster now as he could feel himself starting to unravel. “You close baby?” His voice was a whisper and she answered him with a soft moan as his fingers continued to work in time with his trust, his mouth moving to her jaw line, nipping softly before his hand, once again on her neck, forced her face round to look at him in the glass again. “Cap…Captain…I’m gonna…” “Let go…c'mon…thass my girl…” his Brooklyn accent rolled off his tongue as he continued his deliberate thrusts into her, hand holding her neck in place so her face was focused on his in the mirror. He watched carefully, as her eyes fluttered shut for a moment and she reached up, grabbing at his arm, as he felt her tightening around him, her legs shaking as she gave a loud, drawn out moan, her entire body convulsing. When Katie opened her eyes she saw Steve’s own flutter shut, his mouth dropping open as his head fell forward, pressing into her neck, biting down softly as he groaned, hips faltering with his release. She watched him, those long eyelashes resting against his now flushed cheeks and when they cracked open to reveal those deep blue eyes she had fallen in love with from the very start, she gave him a soft smile which he returned, tipping her head to kiss him. “You ok?” He asked, his hands sliding over her belly, noticing the marks where she had banged into the unit, frowning slightly. “Did I…” “Stop it…” she instructed him, looking at him. “I’m fine…more than fine…that was amazing.” He chuckled, a swell of smugness in his chest warmed him through as he kissed the side of her neck. “Guess you really do like this suit, huh?” He asked as she turned to look at him, her hands tracing the lines of the star. “Prefer the guy that’s in it but…yeah, not gonna lie. It does things to me…your ass looks great.” She said, looking round him as he laughed. “Its all yours baby” he quipped and she grinned, leaning up to kiss him. “I need a shower.” She mumbled “you joining me?” “Can I take the suit off for that?” He asked. She nodded as her lips ghosted over his “Like I said, the suit’s a kink…what I really love is the man in it.” 30 seconds later said suit was not so stealthily littered around the female changing rooms as Steve backed his girl into the large, rainfall shower cubicle, shutting the glass door behind him with his foot.

[little-mad]

The First Hunt: Chapter Two

A/N By popular demand, here's a sequel to The First Hunt! The original was meant to be a oneshot, but since people seemed to like it, and since I had more to say about the story, I figured a part two was in order. This one is a lot longer and more detailed than the first part cuz I wanted it to be more of a short story than a drabble. Hopefully you guys enjoy!

The warm glow of orange evening sunlight filtered through the canopy of leaves overhead. Thomas picked his way through the untamed forest, still wondering what exactly he was doing. The First Hunt had ended a couple hours ago, and Thomas’s peers were all back in town, enjoying the festivities that came with celebrating their passage into adulthood.

Thomas didn’t know exactly what had caused him to slip out of town and make his way back to the spot where he had last seen the human girl. The town elders would probably say hunting instinct. Thomas would be lying if he said he hadn’t been...intrigued by the human’s scent. He may have even followed through and eaten the tiny thing like he was supposed to, that is, if she hadn’t been squirming desperately in his fingers and begging for her life. As good as the little human had smelled, he knew he could never bring himself to eat something he could hold a conversation with.

So if it wasn’t hunger driving Thomas, then what was it? Perhaps just simple curiosity. He mostly doubted the human would have stuck around in the same place for so long, especially after having nearly been eaten, but he found himself itching to know whether she might still be there for some reason. After all, what were the chances he’d ever meet another human again? It was just so rare for them to stray out of the safety of their lands these days. If there was a possibility she might still be there, didn’t he have to be sure?

When he caught sight of a small, shaggy shrub, Thomas knew he had managed to navigate back to the spot where he’d first discovered the human. He heard a scampering nearby and had a brief flash of hope before he saw the sound had been made by a little orange fox that was now retreating further into the woods. Thomas continued to make his way closer to the bush. He could swear he could still detect traces of her sweet scent...unless…

As he walked forward, the distinct scent only got stronger. Thomas walked past the shrub and towards a thick but gnarled tree. At first he noticed nothing, and wondered if perhaps his mind was playing tricks on him, but then as he glanced down at the base of the tree, he caught sight of a small crevice.

Thomas dropped down to his knees and bent to peer inside the little nook. His eyes went wide when he saw what was inside. Pressed back as far as she could manage in the tight space, was a human, the very same human he had encountered a few hours ago.

Her wavy dark brown hair that didn’t quite reach her shoulders was a frazzled mess, bits of bark catching at some of the strands. Barely perceptible beads of sweat were forming on her light brown skin, creating a slight shine to her face. Chestnut colored eyes stared back at Thomas with fear and panic.

---

Tara had made sure to wait a long while after the group of giants had left before even considering leaving her hiding place. She wasn’t willing to risk the chance that they would double back, plus she was still trying to wrap her head around the fact that she had just survived a hands on encounter with a giant.

After about fifteen minutes, Tara had finally deemed it safe enough to exit cover. She’d been just about to do so when she heard an unusual sound. The sound had unfortunately turned out to be that of a giant sized animal sniffing around. Could it have merely been a harmless squirrel? Sure. But given Tara’s luck, she had to assume it was some kind of predator that would gladly snatch up a human for a snack. And for that reason, she had remained concealed in her hidey hole, waiting for the creature to wander off someplace else.

Of course, the animal, whatever it was, had decided it was quite content to remain where it was. Tara had heard it finally give up on its sniffing after awhile and lay down on the opposite side of the tree. Hours passed, and in addition to a growing feeling of hunger in her belly, there was also a new ache developing in her body from being stuffed in such a cramped space for so long. She had just been considering making a mad dash for it and taking the chance that the animal was predatory, when she began to feel a sickeningly familiar rumbling shake the earth.

Tara’s blood went cold. Her window of escape had disappeared. The creature on the other side of the tree was now the least of her concerns. A much bigger predator was coming. If Tara’s last experience with a giant had been any indication, the giant would have no problem sniffing her out. It almost seemed like they had a nose made specifically for detecting humans.

The tremors in the ground increased in intensity as the giant came into view. Tara’s eyebrows shot up as she realized she recognized the massive being. It was the very same one who had captured her just hours earlier. Tara’s heart began to beat erratically in her chest. He had let her go...he’d told her he wouldn’t eat her. She swallowed hard. He must have changed his mind.

Tara could only watch as the young man advanced closer and closer towards her hiding spot. Then there was a rustling sound, from the animal that had been keeping her stuck. The giant’s gaze instantly snapped towards the source of the noise. Tara couldn’t see what he was looking at from where she was, but based on the disappointed look on the man’s face, she had to assume he hadn’t been impressed by whatever it was. This led Tara to a horrifying conclusion. The giant had reacted so quickly to the sound the animal had made, meaning he was looking for something, and Tara had a feeling she knew exactly what that something was.

The giant sniffed the air, an intrigued look forming on his face as he did. Tara had to bite her lip to prevent herself from releasing a whimper. He had caught her scent, it was only a matter of time before he tracked her down.

Sure enough, a few moments later, the towering being was directly in front of Tara’s now useless hiding place. His forest green eyes stared at her in surprise. Apparently he hadn’t been expecting to find her. Which was sensible. Tara should have been long gone by now. She had to mentally scoff at herself. She’d been given a miraculous second chance at life and she had somehow managed to screw it up and end up right back in the jaws of death.

It wasn’t long before the look of surprise on the giant’s face shifted into an excited smile that caused a tight feeling to form in Tara’s chest. She tried desperately to shove herself further back into the small crevice in the tree trunk, as if she’d end up magically getting absorbed into the bark.

Then, suddenly something huge came shooting towards her. Tara yelped as, for the second time that day, devastatingly massive fingers wrapped around her body. Her stomach churned as she was effortlessly pulled out of the nook and up into open air. The movement didn’t stop until she was being held directly in front of the giant’s still smiling face.

Tara wanted to yell, curse, and struggle, but she found herself momentarily frozen in place. She could see her own reflection in the shine of the giant eyes. God, did she look pathetic. The upper half of her body stuck out from the giant's fist, her arms hanging limply over the sides of his fingers. She could only imagine how pitiful she would appear to the immense creature.

After eying her for a couple agonizing moments, the giant made a sound of happy disbelief in the back of his throat before shifting his entire massive form. When the moving was finished, the young man was sitting with his back pressed against the tree and his knees bent. He held Tara slightly below eye level and a few inches away from his face.

“God, I still can’t get over how crazy small you are.” The giant spoke for the first time after finding Tara once again. His expression was filled with awe, not unlike a child that had just been presented a fascinating toy. Tara cringed at the sight of it.

“L-let me go!” She finally managed to spit out. She was still lacking the ferocity she’d possessed when she’d snapped at the giant during their last encounter, but she was hoping she would be able to build back up to it.

---

Thomas couldn’t believe his luck. He’d managed to get a hold of a human not once, but twice in the same day! He only wished he could brag about it to his friends. Of course, then he’d be forced to lie about not eating her. He supposed he could tell them the truth, but he had a feeling they wouldn’t be very receptive.

As he stared at her, wrapped up in his fist, he came to a new realization. Now that he had made himself stop viewing the human as food, he had to say, the little creature was honestly kind of adorable. She looked totally frazzled, but that almost added to the cuteness factor.

The feeling of tiny fingers lightly brushing against his skin sent shivers throughout Thomas’s body. It was insane, a creature that looked so similar to giants but was so damn tiny. “God, I still can’t get over how crazy small you are.” He remarked breathlessly, a grin on his face.

The little human, unfortunately, did not seem to share in his enthusiasm. “L-let me go!” She stuttered. A frown instantly took form on Thomas’s face. He supposed he should have expected this. He had almost eaten her the last time he held her. But he had told her he wasn’t going to do it and he’d released her afterwards. Shouldn’t she know he wasn’t going to hurt her?

“Wait...just wait, this could be a once in a lifetime chance for us to talk.” Thomas insisted. He knew so little about human culture, current human culture in particular. It was hard to learn about the species when his people ate them up if they ever ran into one. There were a few old textbooks back home, but the information was likely horribly outdated by now, not to mention potentially inaccurate considering they had been written by giants and not humans themselves. Thomas was itching to know what life was really like for the tiny creatures.

“I don’t want to talk, I want to go home.” The minuscule girl retorted, fidgeting uncomfortably in between his fingers. Taking note of this, Thomas repositioned the human so that, rather than being held in his fist, she stood in the center of his palm. His fingers were curled up behind her, creating a sort of barrier.

The feeling of the human’s tiny feet moving around on his hand was unbelievable! Thomas had known humans existed his entire life, but now that he was actually holding one, he found it mind boggling that such a petite species could even survive in the world. He knew things were more proportional for the humans on their side of the border, but still, that didn’t change the fact that they were so low on the food chain compared to so many other creatures. Even the prey animals in giant territory outclassed humans.

“Are you...not a little curious about giants?” Thomas questioned the girl, using his free hand to rub at the side of his neck.

The human gave an immediate scoff, complete with an eye roll. “What’s there to be curious about? You treat us like food, that’s all I need to know.” It seemed the spunk she’d possessed during their last meeting had returned. It was kind of impressive how someone in such a vulnerable position could respond with such moxie.

“H-hey, I didn’t eat you, did I?” Thomas shot back defensively. However, as his mind wandered back to the moment he’d held her dangling above his mouth, he couldn’t help but recall the tempting scent that had wafted off of the human. “Although...you--well you do smell pretty good…” The words leaked out almost involuntarily as he was lost in the memory.

Thomas was pulled out of his reverie by a furious gasp and the feeling of tentative steps retreating backwards on his palm. When his gaze refocused he could see the human wearing an expression of disgust mixed with fear, her little arms wrapped around her middle defensively. “Not that I’m going to eat you!” Thomas blurted out, realizing how thoughtless his words had been. “I can’t imagine eating something I can hold a conversation with.”

---

The moment the giant had mentioned how good she apparently smelled, Tara was struck with a renewed sense of fear. She hated it, being viewed as some sort of tasty meal. She couldn’t comprehend the concept. Humans ate the meat of animals, sure, but they couldn’t sniff out a cow, nor did they consider it to smell good prior to being cooked. Giants were different, more barbaric, more animalistic. And yet, they seemed as intelligent as humans. It didn’t make sense.

“Not that I’m going to eat you!” The giant insisted. She stared back at him with suspicion in her eyes. Had he really come all this way to just talk to her? “I can’t imagine eating something I can hold a conversation with.” He added. It almost gave Tara whiplash, the way the giant could go from commenting on how delicious she smelled, to noticeably cringing at the idea of eating a being with which he could verbally communicate with.

“I’m not a something, I’m a someone.” Tara corrected, folding her arms firmly over her chest.

“Right, sorry.” The giant replied sheepishly. Tara could swear she could actually see his face reddening slightly. “I guess I’m not used to this whole talking to a human thing.”

Tara gave a snort. “Understatement.” If she had to write a rulebook for giants on what not to say to humans, rule number one would be: ‘don’t talk about how delicious they may smell!’ But, if she was being honest with herself, this guy was a far cry better than what she had expected. She supposed she should count her lucky stars that she had been found by what was likely the only giant that showed any qualms about eating humans. Considering the fact that the First Hunt indeed was real, Tara could only assume the rest of the giants were totally on board with gobbling humans up.

“Ok, I deserve that.” The young giant admitted, a slight grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. He was quiet for a moment as he looked over Tara, his lips pressed together thoughtfully. And then, “I didn’t expect humans to have such sharp tongues.”

It was true that Tara’s courage, and accompanying attitude, had come back full force after her initial terror at re-encountering the giant had ebbed slightly. Of course, the fear was still present, her instincts would never allow that to go away entirely. However, she was able to keep it as background noise. That being said, she didn’t very much like the giant’s insinuation. It almost seemed as though he had expected humans to be these tiny quivering wrecks.

“I doubt you giants know much of anything about what humans are like.” Tara snipped. She had a feeling most giants didn’t bother to ask for a human’s life story before devouring them.

“Well then why not educate me?” Came the giant’s quick response. God, he seemed eager. His eyes were almost sparkling with enthusiasm. Tara couldn’t understand why he was so interested in humans. It was his own damn species’ fault that the two peoples couldn’t get along.

“What if you could bridge the gap?” A small part of her mind argued. Tara was quick to shake that thought away. There was no way having a heart to heart with one single giant was going to stop all of giantkind from being obsessed with eating humans. Besides, she needed to convince this guy to let her go. The longer she was around a giant, the higher the chances of her getting hurt became.

“Because--because every second I’m around you, my life is in danger!” Tara exclaimed. She forced herself to walk towards the front of the giant’s hand, ignoring how utterly bizarre it felt to be standing on someone’s actual palm.

A frown appeared on the young man’s face. “Come on, I already said I wasn’t going to hurt you.” He said it almost in a whine. Tara was beginning to wonder if this guy was really like a gigantic puppy. Of course, even a puppy was dangerous if it was bigger than a house.

“And I’m just supposed to take your word for it?” Tara asked with a quirked brow. “Besides, you could hurt me without evening meaning to.” What may seem like a small, inconsequential movement for the giant could be potentially catastrophic for someone Tara’s size. Too much pressure from his fingers, a misstep, a sudden jolt; they could all spell disaster for her. The giant clearly didn’t understand that. For him, there was no danger in a simple conversation. Of course there wasn’t, not for him, the one with all the control.

The man remained silent for a moment, apparently digesting Tara’s words. It was a positive sign that he was actually taking her words into consideration. “I’ll...I’ll be careful, I promise.” He vowed, earning a frustrated groan from Tara.

Ever since she was little, Tara had been a headstrong child. Her mother had even taken to referring to her as a ‘stubborn little mule’ whenever she was especially pig headed about something. But now, it seemed the mule had met her match. This giant was relentless in his pursuit to satisfy his own curiosity.

A soft breath from the giant’s mouth ruffled Tara’s hair as it blew past her. He wore a difficult to read expression on his face. It almost seemed like he was conflicted. He kept his silence for a few moments, looking off into the distance and for once freeing Tara from his persistent staring. Before she could properly relish in the feeling of not being the center of a massive being’s attention, his deep green eyes were locked back on her. “Would you at least tell me your name? Mine is Thomas.”

Tara’s eyebrows lifted slightly. She hadn’t even considered that this giant had a name. Giants had always seemed like abstract otherworldly concepts to her. Therefore, the fact that this one had a name, not to mention a seemingly mundane name like Thomas, was a little bit unexpected. “Uh, I’m Tara…” She replied, feeling rather strange doing introductions with a giant.

A bright grin broke out on Thomas’s face. He was way too excited about this. “Pleasure to meet you, Tara.”

---

Thomas found himself unable to keep his hands to himself after he and the human named Tara exchanged introductions. Her awkward body language somehow made her look even cuter! With the tip of a single finger he reached out and ruffled Tara’s already unruly head of hair. He marveled at how soft the locks felt despite how untamed they currently appeared.

The indignant squeak the little human made in response to Thomas’s touch was way too endearing for him to bear, and he was about to go back in to tap Tara lightly on the head when a sudden look of sharp fear came across her face. “Someone’s coming.” She hissed urgently, brown eyes blown wide as she stared up at Thomas.

His eyebrows furrowed and he remained silent while he tried to hear what the human had apparently picked up on. At first he heard nothing. He was just beginning to think Tara had been yanking his chain when he finally caught the sound of approaching footsteps.

Panic was quick to take a grip on Thomas as he shot up to his feet. While he had vowed not to eat Tara, he doubted whoever was coming would share the same sentiment. If another giant knew of her existence, she would be placed in extreme danger. Not to mention the fact that Thomas would have to try to explain why he, a giant, had been holding a casual conversation with a human rather than consuming them.

The footsteps were quickly growing nearer, the new giant would soon be within eyesight. Thomas looked down at Tara to see a look of terror frozen on her face. She looked up at him with desperation in her eyes, as if begging him to do something. He swallowed thickly and gave the human a small nod.

Then, using the hand Tara wasn’t currently standing on, Thomas once again grabbed the human. Swiftly he moved the hand holding Tara around to his back and shifted so he stood as close to the tree trunk as possible without squishing the delicate human he had in his grasp. It was a pretty poor hiding place, that much he knew, but without any kind of pocket or bag to drop her into, Thomas’s options had been severely limited. Although, Thomas wondered if there was even a point in attempting to hide her, any giant with a functioning nose would be able to smell her from several yards away.

A moment later the oncoming giant finally came into view. Thomas’s eyes widened as he realized who it was. The young man’s skin was slightly more tanned than Thomas’s, and his complexion paired well with his medium blond hair. He had angular facial features and a set of icy blue eyes behind a pair of round glasses. He was only a couple months older than Thomas, something he knew because the approaching giant was none other than his best friend.

“Ah ha, I thought I might find you out here.” Lane called, a grin on his lips as he made his way closer to Thomas. “Hoping you’d get a second chance at catching a human, huh?”

Lane and Thomas had been friends ever since they were little kids. It had been their interest in learning that had ultimately solidified their friendship. Thomas was constantly itching for novel, unheard of information. He wanted to discover new and exciting things before anyone else. Lane, on the other hand, was more interested in culture and tradition. He was fascinated by giant history and wanted to analyze it to no end. Within the past few years, Lane had become especially interested in studying giantkind’s history with eating humans.

It was for this reason that Thomas considered Lane to be just about the worst person to come around while he was currently trying to conceal a human. The guy was obsessed with the idea of getting to eat a human. He considered it to be a tradition that connected giants with their ancestors. After the First Hunt had ended, Thomas had been subjected to extensive complaining about the fact that no humans had been found.

Abruptly halting his progress towards Thomas, a perplexed look formed on Lane’s face. He lifted his nose into the air and gave several small sniffs. “Do you smell that?” He asked, continuing to sniff at the air.

Perhaps a bit too quickly, Thomas shook his head. “N-no, I don’t smell anything.” He claimed.

Lane shot Thomas an unconvinced look. “Oh come on, it smells amazing! I haven’t ever smelled anything like it.” He proceeded making his way over to his friend, but didn’t stop sniffing all the way there.

Thomas could feel Tara squirming uncomfortably in his hand. He didn’t know whether it was because of the way he was holding or because of Lane. To be on the safe side, he loosened his grip on her ever so slightly.

“Hey, what do you have there?” Lane questioned, finally taking his focus off of the smell to eye Thomas’s unnaturally positioned arm.

“Is it really that obvious??” Thomas thought to himself miserably. “Nothing.” He told Lane, trying to school his expression into one of casual indifference. “This is just how I’m standing.” Thomas felt a tiny smack on his knuckle. If he had to guess, Tara wasn’t very impressed with his attempt at lying.

Lane quirked an eyebrow. “Alright, then show me your hand.” He prompted.

“I don’t see why--” Before Thomas could even finish his sentence, Lane had grabbed hold of his upper arm and yanked until the hand holding Tara popped out of cover.

For a moment, Lane just stared with eyes as wide as saucers. Then, after he seemed to process what he was looking at, a sly grin slowly spread across his face. Thomas didn’t like that look one bit, especially not when it was aimed at Tara. “You actually caught one!” The blond exclaimed.

Thomas released a low sigh as he moved his arm so that Tara was once again held in front of his body. Rather than return her to her previous position of standing freely on his palm, Thomas kept her gripped in a fist. With Lane now present, it just felt safer.

Although a couple inches shorter than Thomas, Lane still had to bend to get himself at level to where Tara was being held at chest height. He moved his face in close to the human, wearing an expression of exhilarated amazement. “The stories are right, they really are bite sized.” He commented. Thomas could see Tara cringe back at the words. The poor girl’s heartbeat was going crazy, he could feel it pounding against his fingers.

Both Thomas and Tara appeared relieved when Lane straightened and backed up slightly. “Hey, why were you hiding it?” Lane’s gaze flicked from Tara up to Thomas’s face. “What, were you afraid I was going to try and steal your catch?”

“No, I just--”

“It may have ended, but it’s still technically the day of the First Hunt.” Lane stated, apparently too excited about the fact that one of them had found a human to care too much about Thomas’s potential distrust in him.

“Lane, that--”

“You should eat it right here and now, as tradition dictates.” This time, Lane’s interruption sent a wave of alarm throughout Thomas’s body. This was all so overwhelming. He’d just wanted to have a civil discussion with Tara, and now Lane was here trying to get him to eat her!

“What?! No, I’m not doing that!” Thomas cried, loathing the images that were forcibly appearing in his mind of himself dropping Tara into his mouth. What he hated more, was that there was a part of him that actually almost wanted to do so.

Thomas had always found the way giants felt so compelled to devour humans to be strange. It wasn’t necessarily the fact that giants enjoyed eating the tiny creatures, but that they enjoyed eating them whole and raw. With every other kind of meat, giants cooked and seasoned it prior to indulging. It was the civilized thing to do. But with humans it was different. Eating them alive was basically the only way that was considered proper. It was a barbaric practice. Thomas just didn’t understand what it was about humans that turned otherwise civilized giants into hunger driven savages. He didn’t want to be like that, no matter how much his instincts may be urging him to.

“But if you wait till we get home, you can bet someone will try to take it from you.” Lane insisted, clearly misinterpreting Thomas’s opposition to immediately eating the human.

“Lane--” Thomas started, though he didn’t really know where he was going.

“I think Daren wants to eat a human just as much as me, but he’s not your friend so he won’t hesitate to steal your catch.” Lane commented casually. Yesterday this kind of conversation wouldn’t have bothered Thomas in the slightest. Discussing eating humans was fairly commonplace among giants, and he’d never been upset when Lane had brought up the topic in the past. But now, after meeting Tara, Thomas found himself disgusted with how easily his friend spoke about ending another living being’s life.

���I am not eating her, period!” The exclamation had come out louder and stronger than Thomas had perhaps intended, but the way he had felt Tara practically shaking in his hand had elicited an unexpected response.

A look of confusion instantly took shape on Lane’s face, staring at Thomas like he had three heads. “What are you talking about?”

Thomas took in a deep breath. He really hadn’t wanted to have this conversation with any of his friends, least of all Lane. The guy was so lost in giant tradition that he couldn’t seem to consider the possibility that maybe their ancestors hadn’t been such great and admirable people afterall. Thomas didn’t even know how to begin explaining to Lane how he felt, but he had no choice but to figure it out as he spoke. “Lane, humans...eating humans isn’t--it isn’t something I can do.” He started lamely.

Lane narrowed his eyes. “And why the hell not?”

“Because I can’t bring myself to eat something as sentient as you or I.” Thomas responded simply. He could feel Tara’s little eyes on him, but he forced himself to maintain eye contact with the other giant.

“Oh please, you sound like those human sympathizer nut jobs.” Lane scoffed.

Thomas remained silent, unsure of how to respond. He had been raised to view the small number of human sympathizing giants as loons. These days, there were only two left in their small town, and they were both treated as total outcasts. Thomas realized he suddenly had more in common with them than the rest of the townspeople. Now that Lane knew how he felt, would it only be a matter of time before he too was socially shunned?

A noise of incredulity came from Lane as he shook his head in disbelief. “Thomas, we are predators and they are our prey. Eating humans is in our DNA.” He was spouting the same rhetoric as the town elders, and pretty much every adult in town to be honest. Thomas could recall a time when he was eleven, after studying human-giant relations in school for the first time, he’d come home and asked his father why giants loved eating humans so much. His father’s response had been that giants were naturally made to want to hunt humans, that it was an intrinsic part of giant nature. At the time, Thomas had accepted it as fact and moved on. But now, he was beginning to question everything he’d been taught.

“We’re not mindless animals, we don’t have to succumb to base urges.” He argued, almost pleadingly. He wanted his friend to understand, wanted him to see things the way he had started to.

Lane responded with an exaggerated eye roll, clearly not convinced by Thomas’s words. “Ok, you know what? If you’re not going to eat it, I will.”

Realizing what Lane was doing just in time, Thomas dodged to the side just as the shorter man made a lunge for Tara. Thomas’s fingers automatically tightened around the human girl’s body, evoking a sharp gasp from her. He felt bad for causing such a reaction, but he knew it was better for her to be uncomfortable in his hands than ending up in Lane’s at all. Thomas brought the hand holding Tara in close to his body, practically squishing her against his chest. “You need to back off.” He warned Lane as he himself slowly stepped further away.

---

Tara was quite sure that this day would forever rank number one on her list of worst days of all time, that is, if she even lived to see another day. Not only had she been captured and nearly eaten by a giant and later recaptured by said giant, but now there was a whole other giant involved, and one who seemed a lot more interested in eating a human than Thomas had.

This new giant, apparently named Lane, was somehow even more terrifying than Thomas, despite the fact that he looked to be slightly shorter in height. Thomas had never really looked at Tara with outright hunger in his eyes, at least not that she had detected. The same could not be said for Lane. Every time his eyes landed on her, she felt as though she were a piece of meat hanging in the window of a butcher’s shop. She absolutely hated it.

If Lane having just tried to grab her hadn’t been bad enough, Tara was currently in the highly unpleasant position of being tightly clutched in Thomas’s hand. While the grip around her body wasn’t painful, it was certainly far from comfortable. Not to mention the fact that she was being pressed into the giant’s chest, her face barely an inch away from the soft material of the sweater he wore. In order to even see anything except the expanse that was Thomas’s torso, she had to crane her neck around to look over her shoulder.

“If you don’t want to eat humans, then fine, but that doesn’t mean I can’t do it.” Lane growled.

Tara was very quickly getting fed up with all this talk of eating her, and what was more, she was fed up with just sitting idly by while two giants bickered about her fate. Using her arms to leverage herself, Tara managed to twist herself around within Thomas’s fist. Now facing out towards Lane, she leveled a wrathful glare at the giant. “No one is fucking eating me!”

Terror quickly began to eat away at Tara’s fierce facade when Lane’s cold blue eyes zeroed in on her. For a moment, he looked slightly surprised to hear her speak. She supposed it was likely the first time he’d ever heard a human’s voice before. However, the surprise quickly wore off and was replaced with a look of haughty disdain. “Listen here, morsel.” The blond giant sneered, the words causing Tara to physically flinch. “You broke the treaty by coming onto our land.”

“I didn’t mean--”

“The reason doesn’t matter. So long as you’re in our territory, you’re fair game.” Lane stated simply.

Technically, legally, Lane was right. For all intents and purposes, Tara had broken the treaty and was subject to whatever laws governed giants. But she didn’t care, she didn’t care what the laws were or what the treaty said. “Crossing a border doesn’t make me deserving of being killed.” Tara spat back with a scowl. “You giants are so twisted in the head if you think that’s right.”

Tara could feel Thomas’s fingers twitch around her. She wondered what kind of expression he was wearing at the moment, but she didn’t want to disqualify herself from the glaring contest that was currently taking place between her and Lane. “It’s the way nature works.” He said with an unconcerned shrug. “The predator hunts the prey. Don’t be upset because you got stuck as the prey.”

“Lane, knock it off!” Tara’s heart skipped a beat at Thomas’s sudden roar. His voice vibrated throughout her body and caused a slight ache in her ears. Still, the outburst couldn’t distract her from dwelling on Lane’s words. Was that really how giants saw it? They thought it was natural for them to devour humans, and so never stopped to ponder the moral implications?

“What is wrong with you?” Lane demanded, removing his gaze from Tara to shoot an incredulous look up at Thomas. “You can’t tell me you’re not dying to get a taste, the smell alone--”

“I already told you, I’m not eating her, and neither are you.” Thomas interrupted sharply. Tara was glad he’d stopped Lane when he had, the words the giant had been saying had already begun to make her feel sick to her stomach. Hearing how apparently delicious she smelled was horrific, and even worse was the hungry look of longing that had been on his face.

Lost in her own dark thoughts, Tara didn’t even notice the giant hand coming at her until it was too late. A scream got caught in her throat as her shoulders were shoved into the crease between the assaulting hand’s thumb and index finger. There was a burst of pain as she was forcibly wrenched out of Thomas’s hand. Then there came a disorienting blur as Tara felt her body being carried through the air at nauseating speeds.

When she finally managed to somewhat gather her senses, she found she was horizontal to the ground, her legs dangling while her upper half was forcibly held straight by massive fingers. It was then that she lifted her gaze from the distant earth. The sight in front of her caused a horrified shriek to tear through her throat.

There Tara was, being held directly in front of a wide open giant mouth, and she was rapidly being moved towards it.

---

Lane’s grab for Tara had been so sudden that Thomas hadn’t had the chance to evade it. Before he knew it, Lane had snatched the human right out of his hand, and it seemed his friend wasn’t about to waste any time in eating her.

Thomas could feel his pulse pounding in his neck as he watched almost as if in slow motion as Lane lifted the defenseless Tara to his gaping mouth. “No, this isn’t happening, I won’t let it!” Thomas’s thoughts screamed at him. Just as Tara’s head was about to enter the abyss that was Lane’s mouth, Thomas dove forward and managed to snag hold of the other giant’s forearm. A loud smack echoed through the woods from the impact of his palm on Lane’s bare arm.

Now forcibly holding Lane’s arm back from continuing its mission to deposit Tara into his mouth, Thomas threw a dark glare at his friend. “Give her to me now.” He demanded.

Lane looked back with a disbelieving look in his eyes. “Thomas, you need help. You’ve completely lost touch with your own instincts.” Here Lane was, about to end someone’s life without a second thought, and he had the gall to tell Thomas he needed help. It truly was twisted how giant society viewed things. Yet, was Thomas really one to talk? He’d played along with it all just yesterday. It had taken meeting a human, holding her in his hand, for Thomas to begin to truly question the ideas that had been drilled into his head for so long.

“My instincts don’t define me, I’m not a slave to primal urges.” The words were stated calmly and simply. Lane considered himself a scholar, and so Thomas would try to persuade him as such.

“Are you fucking serious?!” Lane exclaimed. Thomas could see his words were failing to give Lane pause, and instead were just offending the guy and pissing him off more. He was beginning to wonder if this was going to develop into a fight. Thomas may be tall and fairly fit, but he had no experience with physical altercations. But, neither did Lane. If both of them were equally inexperienced, Thomas hoped his greater size would put him at an advantage if it came down to it.

It was then that Thomas glanced down at Tara. Her body was being held in a precarious grip with four of Lane’s fingers on her back while the thumb was the only thing between her and the distant ground. This perhaps explained why she wasn’t struggling at all, she knew if she broke free, she’d be plummeting to what would likely be her own death.

Horrible waves of guilt rose up within Thomas. Tara was in this position because of him. She had wanted to leave the second he had found her, but he hadn’t let her. Now she was trapped in a life threatening scenario, and if a fight did break out between the two giants, the frail human could easily be damaged in the crossfire. Thomas would have to avoid that if at all possible.

“Lane, if you’re my friend, please just let her go.” He urged, allowing some vulnerability into his voice. Despite how it likely appeared to Tara, Thomas’s friend wasn’t heartless. The guy had been there for him at times when no one else had. He had to believe Lane was a good person at his core, that he had just been brainwashed to view humans as objects rather than people. Surely he could be reasoned with.

Lane opened his mouth as if to immediately refuse, but halted when he locked eyes with Thomas. After several moments of silence, he could see the resistance draining from his friend. With his free hand, Thomas positioned his palm just below Tara. Lane hesitated for a second before pulling his thumb out from under the human’s body, causing her to immediately drop down into the waiting hand.

As soon as Tara was safely back in his hands, Thomas brought her back against his chest. He was practically cradling the human, and chances were, Tara wasn’t exactly happy about it. However, he wasn’t about to stop, not when she’d be so nearly killed. And though he doubted Lane would make another grab for the human, Thomas didn’t plan on putting his guard down.

“This could be our only chance to eat a human, you know?” Lane said quietly. He stood back, arms folded over his chest. There was a somber look on his face.

Thomas gave his friend a sad smile. “I think we’re better off never doing it.”

Lane shook his head. “I can’t believe that.”

A glance down at Tara’s tiny form cupped in his hand was all the assurance Thomas needed to know that he was doing the right thing. Lane may not be able to see it yet, but maybe he could someday. He had put his friendship with Thomas over his desire to eat a human. That itself was a positive sign.

“I’m going to take her back to the border, we can talk after I get back to town.” Thomas stated, and with that he turned and left, Lane thankfully not attempting to pursue.

---

Tara was seated in the center of Thomas’s left palm, the giant’s other hand cupped in front of her to create a kind of barrier. As they had increased their distance from Lane, Thomas had transitioned from practically caging her in between his two hands, to at least now allowing her a little bit of breathing room.

So far, the journey to the border had been completely silent. Tara had no idea what to even say after everything that had happened, and Thomas apparently didn’t either. The silence hanging between them was beginning to become uncomfortable, and Tara was about to relent and just blurt out the first thing that came to mind, when Thomas finally spoke up. “Tara, I’m sorry.” The statement was simple, and yet caused her eyebrows to shoot up.

Turning around to face the giant, Tara tilted her head back to look at Thomas, only to be met with the underside of his jaw. He kept his eyes forward, but she could still make out a regretful frown on his face. His words had been genuine.

“My actions put you in danger.” The giant affirmed.

Tara gave a snort. “Yeah, they sure did.” She could see Thomas’s frown deepen as he gave a slight nod of understanding. “But,” Tara continued, “you did stand up to your friend for me, so I guess I can’t hate you completely.”

She was sure that if she ever recounted this story to any other humans, they’d never understand how she could not despise the giant that had caused her so many problems. And of course, Tara wasn’t about to join the Thomas fan club anytime soon. Yet, she couldn’t ignore the courage and kindness he had displayed when he protected her from Lane. Yesterday, she never would’ve imagined in a million years that a giant would not only refrain from eating her, but also willingly oppose their own friend for her sake.

These recent events were going to force Tara to reevaluate her views on giants. Thomas certainly seemed like an outlier, but surely he couldn’t be the only one. Lane had mentioned something about “human sympathizer nut jobs”, which seemed to suggest there were other giants who defied the norms. Perhaps giants were more human than she had thought?

The frown had faded slightly from Thomas’s face, though he still wore a serious expression. “Listen, I know that was a pretty bad first impression, but Lane really isn’t an evil person.” He insisted.

Tara held back a dry laugh. Lane was probably on the top of her list of least favorite people. Almost eating her proved worse than the former top spot holder’s offense of calling Tara a “vulgar swine.” Despite her clear dislike for the guy, she didn’t want to denigrate him directly to Thomas’s face. He clearly saw something redeemable in his friend, and while Tara couldn’t see it, she really did hope he was right. She knew that if it were her best friend, she would be giving him the benefit of the doubt.

“I’ll have to take your word for it,” was all she said.

A few moments later, Tara began to notice the trees beginning to loom over her less and less. Soon, Thomas was wading through trees that reached his stomach. The sight of normal sized trees was like a breath of fresh air. She was eager to stop feeling so miniscule.

“This is the closest I’ve ever been to the border.” Thomas muttered.

From the tales she’d heard from her town’s scouts, there were times when giants would stand at the very edge of the border. These giants would apparently stare into human territory, and if they caught sight of one of the scouts, they would attempt to lure them over the border. Tara was glad to hear Thomas had never been among them.

A chuckle escaped her at the nervous look on the giant’s face. “Don’t worry, you’re not about to start getting shot with arrows.” She assured him. So long as Thomas never stepped a toe over the border, no human could cause him any harm.

Thomas’s gaze flicked down to Tara, a slightly abashed smile on his face. She smirked. It was almost endearing, the way something so massive could manage to appear so awkward and innocent.

It wasn’t long after that that the pair finally reached the border which separated giant and human territory. The boundary was distinctly marked by an extensive creek. It was shallow enough to easily wade through if need be, but thankfully they had arrived at a section with a few well placed stones that could be used to hop across.

“So that’s human territory, huh?” Thomas remarked, staring out at the land across the creek.

Tara gave a shrug, it wasn’t anything special, especially not this part, which was just a stretch of woods. Really, it wasn’t much different from the giants’ forest. Size was really the only major disparity.

“Hey,” Tara could feel the giant’s eyes back on her, “you never said why you were past the border in the first place.”

A rush of heat instantly began to warm her cheeks. The tale of how she’d wound up lost in giant territory wasn’t exactly a flattering one. However, she had a feeling Thomas wouldn’t stand for no response. “Primrose only grows on the other side of the border.” She started. “I only planned on going a little ways, but then a giant wolf came after me and chased me further in.”

Rather than the amused expression she had been expecting, Thomas was looking down at her with wide eyes. “That sounds terrifying.” He breathed. “Wolves are scary enough at normal size.”

Tara chuckled. “Not as terrifying as a giant person.” She meant the words sincerely, but she said them in a joking tone.

Thomas gave a sideways nod. “Fair enough.” He said, a small smile on his lips. There was a brief pause, and then, “I supposed I should put you down now, huh?” His disappointment at this prospect was evident. For whatever reason, the guy really seemed to like holding Tara. She, on the other hand, would be lying if she said she wasn’t eager to get out of giant hands.

Tara gave Thomas a shrug that said ‘well yeah, duh.’ The giant’s response was an over dramatic sigh before he moved his hands back a few inches from his chest. He then abruptly dropped into a crouch at a jarring speed. Tara involuntarily took a hold of Thomas’s nearby thumb to prevent herself from toppling over. A perfect example of why she was more than ready to be back on solid ground.

When Thomas looked down to see Tara clutching his thumb, his face morphed into the embodiment of the word ‘awww.’ She scowled back up at him and was quick to release her hold on the huge appendage. Her mother still sometimes called her cute despite her being fully grown, something Tara greatly disliked, so she certainly wasn’t going to take it from this giant. Seeing Tara’s grumpy face, Thomas was quick to try and wipe the expression off his face, although the soft smile remained.

“Move a little more slowly, would you?” She griped, crossing her arms over her chest.

A low chuckle came from the giant, but he nodded in understanding anyways. “Sure thing.” He then began to carefully lower the hand holding Tara down to the grass below. When the back of his hand was flush with the ground, Tara got to her feet and quickly hopped off of the warm palm. She took in a deep breath and blew it out, relieved to be mobile of her own accord once again.

With a grin on her face, Tara turned around to face Thomas. “Sheesh, I forgot how much bigger he looks when I’m down here.” She thought to herself as she stared up at the giant’s enormous figure. Even when he was crouched down, he still absolutely towered over her.

“Hey.” Thomas started, preventing Tara from dwelling on her growing size related anxiety. “I--I was wondering if maybe you might want to see each other again sometime…I could even bring you some primrose.”

The immediate answer that sprung to Tara’s mind was a resounding “no.” But, before she voiced it aloud, she stopped herself. The day’s events had proven one thing very clearly to her: giants were incredibly dangerous. Though she’d managed to escape with her life, she hadn’t come out unscathed. Tara’s shoulders still ached from where Lane had grabbed her earlier. However, she couldn’t pretend Thomas’s unexpected behavior hadn’t intrigued her a little. Plus his offer of bringing primrose was tempting. And, she had just thought of a way the two could talk safely, without any risk on Tara’s end.

While on very rare occasions humans would cross over the border as Tara had done, giants never did the same. For whatever reason, even the most vile giants seemed to obey the treaty to a T. For that reason, Tara figured it was safe to assume that Thomas would do the same. Therefore, if each party remained on their respective side of the border, in theory they could still converse with one another. It was something Tara would need to spend some time considering.

“I’ll think about it.” She told Thomas. “Come back in a week and check under that rock,” she pointed to a large stone behind the giant, “I’ll leave a note there with my answer.”

Thomas beamed down at her, clearly pleased he hadn’t been outright shut down by the human. It was amazing really, he was giving her the power to decide whether or not their relationship continued. It was something someone as big and powerful as him didn’t need to do, but in doing so, he showed that he had at least some respect for Tara’s autonomy. Definitely a good sign.

Tara made her way over to the edge of the creek closest to the path of stones. Not in the mood to get soaked, she carefully picked her way across, trying to ignore the giant eyes on her back. The moment her feet touched down on the grass on the other side, Tara could feel the muscles in her body relaxing. No longer was she in giant territory. She was back, safe and sound on her own side of the border.

When she turned back around to face Thomas, she could see him looking back at her with a gentle smile on his lips. He brushed strands of light brown hair away from his face, and as Tara took in his appearance, she was reminded how scarily human-like giants were. It would be far easier for humans to dismiss them as monsters if they had huge horns, or razor-sharp fangs. Now that she had met Thomas, it was now even more difficult to do so.

Holding her arms in front of herself, Tara returned Thomas’s smile, though hers was much less easy going than his. “Well, thanks for not eating me, I guess.” She said with an awkward chuckle.

Thomas made an amused sound in his throat. “You’re welcome.”

Lifting her gaze up to the sky, Tara noticed the sun was nearly halfway hidden beyond the horizon. Night would fall soon and she still had the walk back to town ahead of her. Not to mention there were probably some people wondering why her herb gathering trip was taking so unusually long. She still wasn’t sure what exactly she was going to tell her friends and family about her experience. It was something she’d have to mull over on the way home.

“So long, Thomas.” Tara gave a short wave.

“See you soon.” Thomas replied, a playful edge to his tone.

With that, Tara turned around and began the trek back to town. She didn’t feel the vibrations of retreating giant footsteps until the border was completely out of sight.

A/N I don't necessarily plan on making another part to the First Hunt per say, but I am making Tara, Thomas, and Lane official OCs on the blog. I'm thinking of taking story requests and prompts in the future, so if anyone wanted more of the First Hunt universe, perhaps that could be arranged 😜

[teaboot]

Hey I just wanted to ask you something I don't know if its personal so maybe I'll start with me, my psychiatrist told me that I have asperger's syndrome and like my mom keeps asking me like what does that means because I think she sees people with autism as stupid and I'm at the top of my class so she feels like it's a mistake, I personally go mute for months sometimes except for like oral tests, and idk I forget about having a body and so I hit onto walls when I'm focused on something but *

"...*is not so exaggerated like I'm pretty functional I just forget that there are walls and doors and that I can't just transport me to the other room or so,I mean I feel like I'm just trying to find what my "weird or autistic" traits are to justify the diagnosis,I didn't asked my psychiatrist to elaborate on that and so I was wondering, what would you say that your autistic traits are?Also just in case,I know that autistic people can be hella smart and I think that you are really wise I admire you"

Thank you so much, that's very sweet of you to say!

Honestly, I'm sort of in a similar situation- My parents' reaction was to say, "you're too smart to be autistic" or, "Everyone of ~your intelligence~ is a little weird in the head, anyways", and then. Expect me to live up to all the positive stereotypes without ever getting bogged down by the negative realities?

This might not be very helpful at all of me to say, but as an adult who grew up in a rather unpleasant environment, there really isn't much help for a number of things except getting old and independant enough to move out, and then just accepting that their perception of reality isn't open to negotiation. You can try debating it, or meeting them on common ground with scientific basis, but in my case....

....well. There's just some things I now know not to talk about at family gatherings.

I'm sorry, I know that's probably not very helpful or heartening to hear. 

As for my personal grab bag of symptoms? I tend to hyperfocus on personal projects. When I'm really invested in an art piece, I often forget to eat or sleep or drink, and the only way I've learned to snap out of that is that if my hands are shaking or I'm falling over a lot, I probably need to eat something and lay down for a while, because otherwise- and yeah, not the healthiest motivator- otherwise I might start fucking up my hard work.

I also get overwhelmed by overlapping noises- if two people are talking at once, even if one is on a radio or TV show, I can't hear either of them and it stresses the shit out of me. White noise, like in malls or assemblies, also tends to burn my energy pretty fast.

Things like leaf blowers, people whistling indoors, and emergency sirens are physically painful. Repetitive noises like a bouncing rubber ball, sniffling, dogs licking things, and low-frequency vibrations from massage chairs, earthquakes, distant bass music, and some fluorescent lighting systems are impossible to ignore, which ranges from irritating to distressing, depending on my headspace du jour.

I hate bland food with a passion. It tends to make me nauseaus. I like lots of spice, lots of sugar, lots of sour and hot and acidic. I love strong flavours, and if I'm cooking for friends and family I often have to remind myself to tone down the seasonings for them.

Some textures make me genuinely ill, too- most types of meat, fat, and other animal bits result in.... Bad times for all. Polyester towels suck ass. Microfiber cloth. Thick cotton knit material. Any fabric covering my forearms. Thin, elastic denim. Vinyl. Polar fleece.

On the flip side, I looooove woven cotton blankets. Cotton sheets, cotton bedding- cold, heavy duvets are good, too. Acrylic, so long as it doesn't get damp. I have.... Perhaps a little bit of a problem here, as I do... Maybe, possibly, get a little impulsive with buying rugs, throws, and blankets when I come across one that feels right.

All my cups and bowls are handmade out of clay. I'm OK with smooth ceramics, but stoneware feels happy in my hands. I think of it as a treat, like packing a bit of chocolate with my lunch, or eating a whole bag of popcorn by myself. Again, I.... May go a little overboard when I come across A nice-feeling piece of dishware.

Basically, from what I understand, a lot of folks on the spectrum are under and over stimulated by various sensory inputs.

Me, I gravitate towards taste, inertia, tactile sensation, temperature, and dark lighting, while I find myself avoiding, limiting, or minimizing sound, light, color, oral texture, and smell.

As for more stereotyped behaviors, I find organizing things such as legal documents, filing cabinets, paint swatches, hardware, coins, stones, or colors to be very soothing and almost meditative. I go through special interests fairly often, and have been 'into' things like animals, insects, natural history, and art since before I could walk. I can't explain why they're such alluring subjects, they just make me happy.

I didn't realize until recently that I do stim, as well- I rock, sway, growl, swish water around, hang upside-down, rotate my thumbs, rub fabric, twirl coins, and flex my hands. I also (rarely) seem compelled to jump up and down in circles very fast when I'm particularly excited, or flap my arms against my sides like a penguin.

When I'm overstimulated, I go.... I'm not sure if you could call it 'nonverbal'. I get the feeling I COULD speak, it's just.... Overwhelmingly difficult. Usually I find a dark space or a corner away from people, put a coat or something over my head, cover my ears, close my eyes... Sometimes deliberate eye contact is hard, or I can't say more than one or two words at a time, or I find myself relying more on a hum or a grunt to communicate that I'm listening.

It... Probably all sounds weird to a neurotypical who may be reading, but I'm perfectly happy with myself as I am. I wouldn't change it if I could, except perhaps to minimize some of the more irritating things.

Mostly, my biggest peeve is being treated like a cool new pet or accessory. "Oh, this is my person with Autism- they're great at cleaning, you should get one!"- yeah, that can fuck right off. I'm right here, I can hear you, I'm a person. A little respect goes a long way.

But, whoops, here I've gone on a ramble- you want the best advice I have, though? Become comfortable with the person you are. Accept and seek out what things bring you happiness. Don't get hung up on the negatives. Love your experience, if you can, and don't worry about validating anything- you are who you are, and the words we use to explain ourselves fall so, so short when faced with the complexity of our individual existence.

The way I see it, the day before your diagnosis is the same as today, you just have one more tool to understand yourself with. The decision of how and if you choose to explain this to those around you is entirely yours to decide! 

I know this kind of went off the rail of your question. My answers are a little limited. I hope I could help anyways! Good luck!!

[imaginesandinserts]

Irreverent Pt. 46 - Salve

Title: Irreverent Pt. 46 - Salve Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader Rating: M Words: ~10K

A/N: Flashback Chapter set between Chapter 14: Superheroes and Chapter 15: Foyet. 

Irreverent Series Masterlist

The bar was thrumming with activity and the energy that accompanies people who've all had a long, hard day at work and would like to do nothing besides forget. The team had gotten back from a case in the evening, and with only Friday separating them and the weekend, had all decided to head out for a night of drinking.

You look around, your hands wrapped around a glass of scotch - Derek, Penelope, and Emily were dancing in the makeshift dancing area, JJ was playing darts with some guys, Spencer was cheating people out of their money at a game of pool, and Rossi had long ago excused himself to go sit by some woman at the bar. You'd be dancing too, but the unsub had gotten the jump on you during the takedown and you'd been nursing a sprained ankle ever since. Hotch had stayed with you - whether it was simply to keep you company or because none of the other activities appealed to him, you're unsure. Likely the former - he was pretty good at darts too.

He's sitting across from you in the booth, a glass of scotch in his hand as well. He doesn't make a face when he drinks it, which you have to admire - it was such a man thing. You only drank liquor to get drunk and had been surprised with the drink by Rossi, who had insisted that you needed to drink something stronger than a glass of wine after the day you'd had. You take another hesitant sip from your glass, trying hard not to give away how little you like it. He could've ordered you a mixed drink - something sweet so you didn't taste just pure alcohol.

"What've you got going on this weekend?" you ask Hotch. The case had been miserable all around and you wanted to talk about anything but that.

He looks up at you, the faint hint of a smile on his face. "Haley and I worked it out so that I can have Jack the entire weekend. I'll have to think of something to keep him occupied."

You knew that Hotch would be content to do nothing as long as it was with Jack, but he liked to make the most of their time together and did his best to plan things out that Jack would like. "I saw a poster that said the Air and Space Museum has some special exhibit on this month. It looked interesting." You knew Jack would enjoy that - his latest toy was a rocketship that went everywhere with him.

"Saturday?" he asks, eyebrow quirked up in question.

"Make it 11, and you've got a deal," you tell him, with a small smile. "I am no longer entertaining plans at 9am."

He lets out a slight huff. "If you just went to bed at a normal hour it wouldn't be that hard to wake up in the morning."

This was an old argument with the two of you. Hotch insisted on always being the first in line to any ticketed event. He hated waiting - he'd start to fidget and get annoyed and keep leaving the line to walk to the front and see what was taking so long.

"Take it or leave it." You were sticking your ground. He could use the lie in too, he'd just never admit it.

"We'll pick you up," he says, bringing his glass to his mouth and taking another sip, eyes meeting yours from above the rim.

It was interesting how you and Hotch had settled into this routine of constantly doing things with Jack. You reckon he likes having another adult around when he's out with Jack - it definitely made things easier to keep a little kid entertained. You'd once mentioned to Emily that you were having dinner with him and Jack and she'd looked at you a little oddly, saying that she'd been on the team forever and had never once had dinner with her boss and his kid. You'd responded by telling her that she probably wouldn't enjoy it all too much - Emily liked kids just fine, but her and Hotch tend to get on one another's nerves a bit after a while. They were far too different even if they did work well together. Hotch would try and fail at limiting her to two glasses of wine with dinner and she'd annoy him by just putting the dishes straight into the dishwasher without caring how she did it.

"Someone sent this over for you." You turn to see the waitress place a drink at your table, and indicate towards a man in a wrinkled suit, seated at the bar, who waves at you.

You can feel your face turn into a grimace as the waitress looks at you expectantly. You avoid looking at Hotch across the way. You didn't need to see his reaction. "Would you mind telling him thanks, but, no thanks for me?" you ask her apologetically.

She nods understandingly, taking the drink back and walking towards the bar.

You turn to look at Hotch, completely exasperated. It was nice. It was a nice gesture - sending a girl a drink. Friendly. Yet, you're just a little at your wit's end lately when it comes to men. It all just feels superficial.

Hotch can read you pretty well by now, so he asks if you're alright.

You look at his concerned face. You know why - usually you don't mind this sort of thing. Hell, you pretty much encourage it with the way you act, flirting with nearly everyone simply because you can. It's like a sport to you.

"Are you asking as my boss or as my friend?" you ask him, eyes cast down towards your drink, following patterns in the wood of the table.

"Friend," he says, adjusting to lean in a bit more towards you.

Sighing, you shift a bit, dropping your leg from where you'd been keeping it elevated next to him. "Lately, I just feel like I can't get guys to see me. Like every guy I meet, they either want to date me or kill me," you tell him, referring to your job. "But beyond that, it's like I don't even matter."

Hotch nods understandingly at your frustration, his face a grimace at your explanation. He's unable to deny that that is very much the case when it comes to women quite often - especially in your line of work. You're all far too aware of the horrors of dating, being called in on numerous cases on dating gone wrong. "Aren't you still seeing that guy - Kensington?" he asks with a slight uptick of his jaw.

"Well, if you can call seeing someone six times over the course of about an equal number of months, then yes I suppose so," you scoff lightly. "Twice we got called in on cases halfway, once he got interrupted by a work emergency, and then most recently I accompanied him to an event at which most of the other dates were the kind that demand a retainer in exchange for services rendered," you say, alluding to the super model types you'd kept company at Cedric's business event a couple of weeks back. You could fit into his world quite easily, but you didn't want to. You'd left that behind for a reason.

Hotch chuckles slightly at that, amused at your tone and manner in which you referred to women who were essentially either escorts or sugar babies. You didn't really fit that mold - of that he was quite certain. For one, you definitely didn't need the money.

"Don't get me wrong, I actually do like him. We get one another and our background and upbringing is similar enough. He makes me laugh. However our schedules - both of ours - are highly unconducive to dating and in his line of business he needs a girlfriend who can leave everything at the drop of a hat to stand by his side."

"So unless you leave your job or he leaves his, it won't work out," Hotch finishes your thought for you, a resigned expression on his face in commiseration.

"Exactly. Which is a shame because he's actually one of the good ones. He's rich but not pompous, educated and intelligent without being condescending about it, and actually shows genuine interest in me and my job. Believe it or not, as basic as those things might seem, they are actually difficult to find all in one man."

He hums. "I can imagine," he says, taking another sip of his drink, a slightly amused expression on his face. You rarely talked to him about your dating life so he was actually very interested in this insight. He wonders briefly if there's any significance to you having listed the fact that Kensington was wealthy before any of his other qualities. From what he knows of you, he doubts you'd truly care if your partner had money or not. More than likely it merely helped establish a commonality, nothing more. However, from what he does know of the men you've dated recently, they all appear to be quite well off nonetheless.

"Anyways, all that is to say that I'm not exactly looking to entertain complete strangers in bars at the moment. I don't trust my luck."

"Probably for the best, anyways," Hotch comments, appraising the crowd at the bar. There really didn't appear to be anyone worth talking to - especially none of your caliber, per his judgement.

"What about you? How's the post divorce dating scene?" you question, feeling a little bolder than you usually might, since the two of you are already discussing the matter. Turnabout was fair play.

He's a little surprised at your forwardness. You tend to do your best to not meddle in his personal business, despite the amount of time you two spend together. He believes it's your way of maintaining some modicum of professionalism to your outings. Your conversations tend to revolve around cases, your classes from college, an article in the newspaper, or the ever present game the two of you like to play of profiling complete strangers walking by. He says its to hone your skills, but really he just enjoys how invested you get - how competitive and passionate, color rising in your cheeks as you defend your assessment, annoyance tinging your tone as you disagree with him, admiration when he notes something you hadn't, and pride when he praises your observations, your cheeks flushed a prettier pink and your eyes sparkling with satisfaction.

"I wouldn't know," he discloses, a slight flush in his cheeks. He hadn't dated at all since the divorce. He hadn't had the time and he hadn't really had interest in anyone. Not when you exist, so overtly present in his day to day life. He knows he's - in some capacity - using the outings with you and Jack as the closest thing he's got to dating again. Not to say that it was that - dating. However the fact that his weekends were typically filled by you and his son made it so he wasn't exactly left wanting.

Your eyes widen a little in surprise. Their divorce had been a while back now - you knew for a fact that Haley was dating, having ran into her with some man when you'd offered to drop Jack off for Hotch when you all got called in on a case last minute. You hadn't mentioned it to him, but you're sure he knew as well. "You're joking. Really? No one?"

"You might recall, I got divorced because I didn't have the time for my existing relationship. A new one requires quite a bit more attention than that," he says dryly, self deprecation dripping from every word.

You hum, narrowing your eyes at him as you stir your drink with the toothpick it came with, spearing the cherry inside and popping it into your mouth.

"You should just go for it next time we're in some whatever town. Every female detective we've encountered constantly gets all moony eyed around you," you inform him matter-of-factly. They're all so obvious too, eyes always drawn to his ring finger in search of a wedding band, and upon finding it empty, hanging onto his every word. Flicking their hair and fluttering their lashes at him, keen on proving themselves to be competent by sticking their noses into the profile.

"That's hardly true," he contradicts, shaking his head, the color in his cheeks having creeped down his neck.

You chuckle at that. "Maybe you're not as good of a profiler as you think you are."

He glares at you, however the lightheartedness remains in his eyes so you know you're in the clear for your jab.

"Anyways, all I'm saying is, whenever you decide to get back on that proverbial horse, I think you won't find a shortage of options," you tell him kindly. After all, Hotch worked harder than any of you. He deserved to find happiness again.

He rolls his eyes at your statement ever so slightly. His right hand was a much less complicated and demanding lover for the time being - he was making do just fine.

"So, on to the next for you then?" he asks, attempting to divert attention back to you and your existent dating life rather than him and his non-existent one.

You shake your head, a humorless smile appearing on your face as you start to feel just slightly light headed from the alcohol. Maybe accepting random pain killers from Emily hadn't been quite the right move. "Nah," you mumble into your drink. "Cedric can stay, if only because I don't have an actual good reason to end it yet. Besides him, the other two on the back burner are quickly losing what little appeal they held to begin with. I might actually take a break."

Hotch smiles as if he doesn't quite believe you're capable of actually taking a break. Your reputation for never being without a date far preceded you.

Truth be told, at first it was simply easier to always be dating someone in the aftermath of the John wreckage. If you could constantly keep yourself occupied and distracted in that area, while you actually gave turning straight a fair shot, then maybe you'd make it through instead of going crawling back to his bed. Maybe you'd stop seeing his broken face when you told him you couldn't be with him. Maybe the memory of leaving him standing alone in front of that tattoo parlor in the Village wouldn't cause your heart to ache and rebel against your own actions. Maybe. Just maybe.

Now, the pain of Julian's death and the subsequent fallout with your family was merely hurtful when you chose to think of it or were reminded of it inadvertently It was no longer ever present. That seemed like progress. Like somehow despite everything - the pain and torture you'd inflicted upon both you and John had somehow been worth it if it meant you could go to sleep without thinking of Julian. Wake up without your father's face looming ever present in your mind.

You and Hotch look up when you see the rest of the team approaching the table one by one as the night drew to a close. It was last call and about time to head home so you could all have a hope of making an appearance at the office the next day.

"You want a ride home?" Hotch asks you, noticing your slight struggle to get out of the booth.

"It's totally out of your way," you protest, yanking your coat on and fishing for your keys in your pocket.

"I insist, come on. You can't drive properly with that sprain right now. He walks towards you and placing his hand at your lower back, guides you out of the bar behind the rest of the team. "Your car should be fine and we can grab it in the morning."

You know he's right, so you allow yourself to lean against him ever so much more, letting him help you out to his car. Hotch helps you in and closes the door behind you, before walking around to the driver's side. You take control of the music, plugging in your phone, intent on introducing him to more modern music. The two of you made it through seven Top 50 songs on the drive to your place, Hotch complaining throughout and not finding anything redeemable in any of the songs you'd chosen.

Aaron looked over at you as he neared your house, your head moving along to the music and your fingers dancing across your thighs to the tune, a large grin plastered on your voice as you tried to convince him that this this one he surely had to enjoy. He actually didn't mind most of the music you picked out to introduce him to - you didn't just pick anything, you always did your best to pick something you thought he'd truly enjoy. However, he worried that if he started to openly like any of them, you might stop trying so hard.

He pulled into your driveway and walked around to help you out of the car, lending you a hand along the path and up the steps to your door. He stands on the lower step as you unlock the door, before you turn around to tell him goodbye. When you turn, you're almost at his height due to the different steps you two are stood upon and you're not quite sure what compels you, but you reach for him and lean in to a hug, tucking your head onto his shoulder. If he's surprised he doesn't react as such, wrapping his arms around you as well briefly.

"Thanks Hotch."

"I'll pick you up at 8:30AM tomorrow. Is that alright?"

"Sounds good. I'll be the one standing right here, holding the cups of coffee."

He smiles, rolling his eyes just slightly, before turning around and walking away.

*------------*

He first becomes aware of only pain. A piercing, stabbing pain that he can feel everywhere, centered around the abdominal area. He can't move, everything feels heavy. Opening his eyes is a struggle and he manages to only open his eyes a fraction, before being forced to close them tight again. It was bright. White and too bright for his sensitive eyes.

He's slowly starting to realize where he is - becoming increasingly aware of the pain and the bandages, the needle connecting an I.V. to his arm - he's in a hospital. He tries to remember what happened - he'd dropped you off, waited until you made it inside and waved him off, before leaving. He'd gotten back to his apartment. It had been quiet. Eerily quiet. Then Foyet was there. After that all he recalls is pain and Foyet's voice - over and over and over.

Do I seem impotent now?

You should've made the deal.

This will never be over.

Aaron finds it too difficult to keep his eyes open and closes them once again, slipping under.

The next time he wakes, a technician was present and the girl quickly hurried out when she noticed him move.

Once the nurses became aware that he was conscious, it had been a flurry of activity - doctors and technicians in and out to ensure he was alright and to up the pain medication. Some talk about internal bleeding and nine stab wounds to which he'd simply nodded along. He tried to ask for Dave - someone who could make sense of all of this. They told him no visitors yet, but that family had been informed.

Once Dave enters, that's when he finds out everything. Foyet had dumped him outside the hospital. After he hadn't shown up to pick you up that morning, you'd raised the alarm and Garcia had tracked him down. Nothing was missing from his apartment from what they could tell, despite the mess. The only thing left out was his address book. Dave had it with him and Aaron looks through it, going immediately to the one page that mattered. It wasn't there.

Haley Brooks.

Rossi had sent you to go get Haley since the Marshalls were getting ready for her. You'd left Jack with JJ, assuring him that you'd be right back. He'd already seen his father and you'd watched from a distance as Hotch had adjusted to sit up, insistent on not letting his son see him as anything but alright, even in the context of a hospital bed. Haley had been with them and you watched as her eyes flitted from Hotch to Jack - fear for her son and what he might have to go through, due to his father's job, her main concern. She was worried for Hotch too, of course. She must be. However, their initial interaction that you'd witnessed hadn't been quite how you'd expect a wife to react to her husband being in a hospital. Though, you suppose, she wasn't really his wife anymore. Not that it mattered to him - you're pretty sure in his eyes, she might as well still be.

You approach, and you can hear Hotch and Haley in conversation about what's going to happen next. Foyet had taken only the page in his address book with her name on it, so his intentions were perfectly clear. Haley and Jack were being targeted by a serial killer. That meant they needed to be protected, and you knew that Hotch would have to break it to her.

"Do you know where they're taking us?" Haley asks. You can hear the uncertainty in her voice. You wait outside, trying not to eavesdrop but it was impossible not to overhear.

"No I don't. And that's the point. I can't know where you're going. If you have any contact with anyone, then he could track you."

"Jack has school, Aaron. He has friends. I have a job now." Her voice is accusing and you want to tell her that none of that matters right now. The only thing that matters is the two of them being safe.

"I know. And I'm sorry. We will catch him. And you'll come back, and I promise that I will spend the rest of my life making this up to you." Hotch's voice comes out low and you can hear the anguish caught in his throat as he speaks to the mother of his child - telling her to take their son and go. Breaking his own heart in the process by keeping Jack away from him. Knowing that that is exactly what Foyet wants. Wants him to suffer.

"Are you sure that we're in danger?" she asks, her voice suggesting that maybe he was overreacting. You feel a surge of anger course through you at that. For her to even suggest that he was overreacting when he was laid up in a hospital bed with multiple stab wounds was simply…you didn't have the words. He wouldn't make her go through this over nothing!

"Yes."

You decide to intervene then. Before she can question it further and agitate him more. He needed to rest. You knock quickly, alerting them both to your presence. "Haley, the Marshalls are ready for you."

She nods and grabs Hotch's hand. You avert your eyes to give them their privacy as Hotch tells her to be brave and strong. He'll see her and Jack after she's met with them.

Haley walks towards you and you point her to the tall female agent standing at the end of the ICU doors, wearing non-descript clothing in order to not garner too much attention. She nods and looks at you, and you see a hint of something pass through her eyes, like she wants to speak, but then seems to think better of it and walks towards the direction you'd pointed her in.  

You watch her go, before turning to Hotch. His eyes followed her until she disappeared around the corner, and then he tilts his head back and closes his eyes. You hesitate for a second, before walking in. Your presence wouldn't be missed for a few minutes, you hope, so you walk towards the bed and take a seat in the chair to his left, waiting until he decides to look at you.

"How're you feeling?" His face is turned towards you as though he's partially surprised you're even there at all. You wonder if he would've preferred you have left him alone instead.

"They're got me some pretty strong meds," he tells you, indicating towards the I.V. drip connected to his arm.

You lean over and read the chart hanging from the side of the bed, eyes glancing over it. "They got you on all of the good stuff - Hydromorphone will get the job done for sure." You try to smile but you know it won't reach your eyes right now.

"How long did it take you to sound the alarm?"

You shift, tilting the chair to look at him better, your teeth worrying your bottom lip and eyes narrowed, trying to work out why he'd ask that. The smell of a hospital was starting to get to you a bit - that odd smell that feels like despair and cleaning supplies. "Ten minutes. At 8:35, I called your cell and you didn't pick up. I called again at 8:36 and 8:37 and 8:38. At 8:39 I told myself I was acting crazy and that the weird feeling I had wasn't anything really. I just needed some breakfast. At 8:40, I called Penelope and had her track you down." You remembered the ten minutes of pure panic you'd gone through when he hadn't been outside at exactly 8:30AM. With anyone else, it wouldn't be a cause for concern. With Hotch, you'd expected him to be there at 8:25AM and so you'd been ready to go by 8:15AM with a travel mug of coffee for the both of you in each hand. He also always texted you when he left his place to come to yours and you hadn't gotten an ETA text that morning. Maybe that's what had originally put you on edge.

He looks at you, an odd look on his face at your explanation as if he's trying to decide what to make of it - the entirely detailed and rambling explanation he got from you, likely catching him off guard a bit. Great, he thinks I'm insane.

A small smile makes its way to his face however, and you're glad he's still capable of that, despite everything. You haven't yet looked down at his bandages. Foyet had stabbed him nine times. You'd seen the notes that Rossi had taken - what Foyet had said to Hotch as he stabbed him. Talking about how Hotch has profiled him as being impotent. The mere act of stabbing Hotch while taunting him with that particular piece of the profile -it filled your stomach with churning acid. It was the closest to sexual assault that Foyet could inflict upon Hotch and you're trying hard not to think about the emotional and mental ramifications of it all for him. The physical was one thing - that's something that people can move past with time. The violation of one's home and one's body however - the toll that takes on ones being and sense of self - that's much more difficult to bury.

Just to even think that he was exaggerating - you're mad all over again at Haley. You shouldn't be. You know that isn't fair at all. She was having her whole life upended. And yet…he was the one in a hospital bed and you're having a hard time recalling her seeming at all concerned for him. She must've been, of course. But…he didn't deserve to be made to feel like shit because of it. It wasn't his fault. Knowing him, he really would spend the rest of his life making it up to her.

You avert your eyes to stare at the wheels at the bottom of the bed. They'd wheeled him, unconscious, past you when you'd first arrived at the hospital, not bothering to go into the office and instead arriving straight from your place via a cab. You'd been the first one there, having Garcia call the rest of the team. You'd called Rossi so that he could be the one to call Haley. He'd known her longer. You'd limped your way into the ICU, bypassing every single security check with a flash of your badge.

Pointless really. They wouldn't let you see him. Family first. You had to wait for Haley and Rossi to arrive - they were his emergency contacts. You briefly wondered if that was because he'd never bothered to update it after the divorce or if that was truly still the case - if she would be the person he'd want to have during an emergency.

"Can I say something?" Your voice comes out small and hesitant. He hadn't said anything in the wake of your explanation earlier.

He nods, looking at you curiously.

You wet your lips, clearing your throat a bit and sitting up straighter. It's not your place, and yet.. someone should say it. Someone should tell him.

"Sometimes, when we love people, we allow them to hurt us. We allow them to ignore our pain in favor of elevating their own. We allow them to bypass our feelings and our needs because we believe we aren't as worthy of having what we need acknowledged. I get why, of course. Especially right now, but.." You trail off, not knowing how to finish what you'd started in a way that didn't complete overstep the boundaries that you'd already crossed. He'd know you had heard. He didn't need to know that right now, you didn't exactly love his ex wife. You liked her just fine. But right then, you didn't appreciate how she'd treated him.

Hotch looks at you, breath caught by your words. He hadn't realized you'd overheard the conversation between him and Haley. There could be no other reason for you to be saying all of that. You'd said it all softly, hesitantly, knowing you were crossing some sort of line and yet you'd still said it because you felt he needed to hear it. We love.. We allow… We believe… You were speaking from some amount of personal experience. Your first question to him had been about how he was doing - unlike both Rossi and Prentiss who had asked him what happened. He's not sure why the distinction matters, yet it does.

Haley was right too, however. He can't be upset with her. This was all his fault. He hadn't made a deal with Foyet and now his family - his son - their lives were being upended. Haley had already put up with a lot during their marriage. The divorce should've meant that she no longer had to bear the consequences of his job. He can't help but feel guilty for that - for putting her in this situation. Especially when he's so overtly aware that he could've kept it from happening.

He watches as you sit in that chair, eyeing him apprehensively, chewing on your bottom lip. You care. He can tell you care. You care so overwhelmingly that it's hard to deny it. Sometimes he wishes you didn't. It would make things a lot easier on him if he could think that he felt something for someone that didn't even think about him - that he never crossed your mind even. However, there's far too much proof to the contrary. So instead he has to live with knowing that you care about him, that you think of him, that you likely - in some capacity - love him. The way one might love a friend or a mentor. Somehow that's worse because he has to then deal with you saying stuff like this. Things that make it seem like only you care.

He doesn't know what to say and he can feel tears forming that he's quick to blink away, hoping you hadn't noticed. He swallows and just nods, not trusting himself to say much of anything that didn't involve asking you to stay - possibly forever, because for the first time since he'd woken up in the hospital, he feels seen.

You try to smile and change the subject, fill him in on the Marshalls' plan with Haley and Jack. Offer to get him ice chips or some food that wasn't from the hospital cafeteria. He notices how at ease you seem in the hospital, and comes to the conclusion that maybe a family member had spent some time in one. You seem to know which nurses to talk to in order to get whatever you needed. You watch like a hawk when they come to do anything with his medications. He's pretty certain you would've slept there overnight had Rossi not asked you to help Morgan with something on the ongoing case.

He misses you as soon as you leave.

*------------*

You catch Jack and Haley on your way out. You know you won't be seeing Jack for a while. The Marshalls would be taking them today. Everything was going to change for them.

You nod at Agent Montgomery - the U.S. Marshall that's going to be on their case for the time being. She shifts, moving to the doorway to give you guys a moment.

Haley is seated at the table, her hands holding onto some paperwork. She meets your eyes briefly and nods before returning to the documents. There's a pen in her hands and you can't help but note that her fingers shake around it a bit.

Jack is seated at another table nearby, Agent Montgomery having cleared the breakroom for their meeting.

"Hey buddy." You kneel down to where Jack has been sitting, coloring a printout that one of the nurses must've provided. Jack turns to you, showing off his work. "That looks amazing, Jack!"

He beams with pride at your praise. "Thanks, Y/N."

"I have to head out, okay. I just wanted to say goodbye before I left."

Jack gets up and hugs you, wrapping his little pudgy arms tightly around your neck, allowing you to sweep him up entirely. You know this is the last time you'll get to hold him for quite a while, so you allow it to linger, hugging him back tight. "I love you, Jack." Whispered into his ear while you blink back tears.

You release him and stand, making sure he's settled back into his activity and occupied, before turning to Haley. She stands, walks with you a small distance away from Jack. It isn't fair, what's happening to her. You don't really hold anything against her. It's awful, entirely awful what's happening - her whole life was about to be uprooted because of your jobs. Because of all of your collective failure to catch Foyet the first time. It was your mistake and her and Jack were going to pay for it.

You look up at her and you can see how entirely scared she is of what's about to happen. To have to do this on your own was one thing. Doing it with a partner, another. To have to do it all alone while supporting a child - she wouldn't have anyone she knew to rely upon. All by herself and unable to trust anyone.

"We're going to find him. We're gonna catch him. I promise." You know words were of little solace but that's all you have to give right then.

She smiles, a watery smile to match the unshed tears in her eyes. There's a shaky nod before she moves forward, hugging you in much the same manner Jack had. She's a bit taller than you, so you try to stand straight, allowing her to lean against you. "Take care of him." Her voice is a whisper against your ear, as though she's entrusting you with something extremely precious. Which she is, you suppose. She's counting on you to make sure that Hotch would be alright. That Jack's father would be fine, awaiting his son's return.

"I will."

*------------*

It had been a week since Foyet had left Hotch outside the hospital. A week since Haley and Jack had been taken into WITSEC protective custody and given new identities in an unknown location. A week since Morgan had become the new acting Unit Chief of the BAU, taking over in Hotch's stead. To the public - to the outside world - and especially to Foyet, it had to seem like his attack on Hotch had left him completely alone and broken - no wife, no kid, no team to lead.

You hated it.

The team had been assigned a new case late Sunday evening after you'd all pretty much spent the past couple of days in the hospital. Hotch was discharged earlier in the day and was under strict orders to stay on bedrest for the time being. You'd all flown out early Monday morning and it was now Saturday evening, the case having stretched out the entire week due to the Unsub's kill schedule.

You got back home after submitting your report, grabbing a water and a pack of the little bunny crackers you keep on hand for Jack. You're pretty sure you won't be seeing Jack before those expire and someone should eat them. You shower and get dressed for bed, thinking about Hotch. You knew he was home and would be coming back to work next week, doing the absolute bare minimum bed rest that the doctor had mandated. You're fairly certain the doctor had been intimidated into it by Hotch's severe face, daring him to say anything longer than a week.

It's fairly late by the time you actually crawl into bed, plugging your phone into the charger by the nightstand and flickering off the lights, plunging the room into darkness save for the red glow of the alarm clock stating that it was now eleven o'clock. You wonder if anyone has checked in on him while the team has been away. Perhaps Jess, but she must also be out of her mind with worry about Haley and Jack.

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you've grabbed your phone and scrolled to his name in your Favorites, pressing on it. You hold the phone up to your ear and listen as it rings, once, twice, thrice, until you hear the sound of it being picked up.

"Hotchner." His voice is low but doesn't sound sleepy, so you're at least confident that you hadn't woken him up. Having nothing to do but lay around must be messing with his carefully regulated sleep schedule.

You suppress a laugh at his formal no-nonsense greeting, even though he undoubtedly knows it's you. "Hey." Your voice comes out breathier than intended.

"Is everything alright?" There's a slight edge evident in his voice and you realize that maybe calling him at eleven at night when his wife - ex-wife - and kid are being kept away safe wasn't exactly the right move.

"Yeah, yeah. Everything's alright. I'm sorry. I just called to check in. How are you?"

There's a pause where you can hear the ambient sounds of your house settling in along with him shifting - the rustling of a bedsheet and the groan of the frame as he moves to adjust himself. So he had been in bed when you called.

Finally, you hear, "I'm alright. Thank you for dropping off the food."

"Yeah, yeah of course," you respond, your heartbeat picking up a bit for some reason. You figure it's because you're unsure of the call itself still and knowing that Hotch was in bed and you'd likely disturbed him in some sense at least, makes you feel a little uneasy.

For his part, Aaron had been going stircrazy, sitting at home with nothing whatsoever to do. The Marshalls had taken Haley and Jack the very same day. Dave had taken him from the hospital and back to his apartment and Garcia and JJ had dropped by the same day with some groceries and a couple of ready to eat meals for him.

He spent most of Sunday sleeping, the strong painkillers making him drowsy. Monday morning, he awoke to his doorbell and his nurse, Eric, from the hospital was there to help him with the dressage. He didn't think that was covered by his insurance - he could only imagine how much home visits from a medical professional cost - and had told Eric there was some sort of mistake. However, Eric had insisted that someone at the hospital had already worked it out and insurance wasn't an issue - this was a covered service apparently. Since Aaron already knew him, and he really could use the help, he'd let him in. Eric had entered holding a large box of food as well, that he said had been left at the door along with a note. After Eric left, Aaron had opened the box to reveal pre-portioned meals - all homemade, all different, all things he could throw in a microwave easily. The note was just signed with your name, telling him to call if he needed anything else.

He'd slept through most of the days, awakening only to let Eric in daily. He ate only because he had to in order to take his medications. Otherwise his mind was a haze of thoughts and worries - worrying about Jack and Haley, about Foyet being around the next corner, about the team managing without him, and somewhere at the farthest reaches of his mind your face danced around - worried and concerned for him, despite doing your very best to appear otherwise.

When your name flashed across his phone late at night, at first he felt the thrust of panic - that something had happened. And then there's your voice, calm and even, asking him how he's doing. No one else had called him. Dave and Prentiss had texted once or twice over the week, but with a case going on, everyone had been busy.

There's a brush of silence after he thanks you for the food and he can hear you take a breath and shift ever so much. He realizes that you're calling him while most likely lying in bed. It causes his heart to speed up and a tight coil to begin tightening in his stomach. It's utterly benign - he has no reason to feel that way, and yet, yet he does.

"How was the case?" he asks, desperate for someone to speak with, not wanting the phone call to end.

You're slightly surprised but you easily talk him through the details of the case, the profiling process and how the team had approached it. You find yourself babbling on for a while as he asks you questions about the evidence, how the local detectives had been, how the team was doing.

Aaron listens to you, taking it all in. You're good at this, providing all the details you know he'd want. You notice everything, all the little things. How the local detectives had responded to Morgan being in charge - how it had been easier for JJ to liaise with them more closely instead. How Reid was getting much more comfortable with having a weapon in the field. There's a soft, sleepy quality to you despite your obvious willingness to tell him everything. Your voice like a salve, doing more for him than any of the medications the doctors had prescribed.

He's not sure when or how, but the conversation has meandered from the case to something Prentiss had told you once, to a story he had of Dave and Gideon back when he first joined the team, and then to a professor of yours from college who had been particularly invested in the Bundy trials in a near obsessive manner. He finds himself laughing for the first time since that night at the bar with you.

When his eyes next catch the time, it is past 2AM. You'd been on the phone for the past three hours. Before this, the longest phone call he's ever had was fifteen minutes.

"It's late," he whispers, almost as though he doesn't want you hear him. "You should get some sleep."

You glance at your clock and find yourself shocked at how long the two of you had been on the phone together. Who knew Hotch was even capable. Though, you figure, you'd been doing the bulk of the talking, rambling on about something or the other. He must be utterly exhausted of listening to your voice.

"You should too," you murmur through a yawn, your eyes flickering under the weight of your lashes.

"Good night, Y/N." You can hear a smile in his voice and it's almost as though you can feel him - the way he feels when he hugs you, warm and strong, firm against you, surrounding you completely with his being.

"Night Hotch."

*------------*

Hotch had been back a couple of weeks and the team was adjusting. While Morgan was indeed the public face of the team, Hotch was very still involved and working far too much behind the scenes. You've kept an eye on him, looking for signs of him overexerting himself. He is, of course. He's burying himself in work, diving in head first because that's likely easier than focusing on everything else. So far, all you've done is give him looks that say Shouldn't you be going home? and Is this really what you want to spend a Wednesday at 9PM doing? He doesn't acknowledge them openly but you know that he knows that you see exactly what he's trying to do. He'll leave once he realizes that you're staying if he is.  

You're not quite sure how to check on him during the weekends. Before, you used to have Jack as the reason why you saw him. Now, without Jack, you're not quite sure how to go about seeing Hotch and making sure he's alright, without it somehow being seen as overstepping. You nudge Rossi to go check on him one of the days and then another, you invited the entire team over for dinner so that you know he ate. You know he won't let you cook for him if he's no longer on bedrest, even though the way he holds his gun and the sharp inhale he takes anytime he has to put the Kevlar on is extremely telling.

JJ wants everyone in the conference room on the other side of the floor since your regular one is taken and she calls you to inform everyone of the change in venue for the scheduled meeting. You glance up from your desk after having told Derek and Emily of the location change, trusting them to tell Spencer when he returns. JJ isn't expecting everyone for another half hour, and Emily had caught Rossi as he was heading out to lunch, so he's also aware. Emily and Derek follow in his steps, asking if you're going to join them, but you wave them on ahead.

You take the steps up to Hotch's office swiftly, knocking and turning the knob in one motion, only to find him standing behind his desk, no jacket or tie, shirt unbuttoned, a patch of red visible on his skin from one of the stab wounds inflicted by Foyet. He looks up at you and you can feel the surprise in his eyes. It was your fault, you should've waited. That was stupid. Your eyes can't seem to look away from the blood spotting the otherwise white wrappings that sit in a pile on the desk.

"I - I'm sorry," you stutter out, blinking and trying to make sense of the sight in front of you. You notice that his shirt was also equally marred, the blood having seeped through. You'd obviously interrupted him.

He draws a breath, and you can see him try to put on a mask of being unbothered by your sudden appearance. "Did you need something?"

'Um, JJ had to move the briefing to the other conference room," you inform him, still unable to look away. You're staring. You know are. It's dawning upon you how entirely you'd fucked up. Hotch was such a private person. He'd hate having someone see him in such a state of vulnerability.

He nods. "Thank you. Could you close the door, please?"

You don't move from your spot in the doorway.

"Y/N?"

You're not sure what exactly has overcome you, except this overwhelming need to take care of him. Especially now, right then when he's hurting. Bleeding quite literally. Hotch takes care of everyone. Every single one of you. But no one takes care of him. Not the way he needs to be cared for.

You cross the threshold, shutting and locking the door behind you. He seems entirely taken aback as you approach him silently. There's a voice in your head telling you that this, right here, this was the definition of overstepping. Yet, there is a more insistent compulsion residing within you, urging you forward until you've reached him. He looks at you, confusion in his features.

"Let me." You reach for the alcohol wipes on the table, meant to disinfect the affected region.

He doesn't say anything, but he also doesn't move, making it difficult for you to actually reach him as he's standing flush to his desk. He only looks at you, brows scrunched together, the pronounced cleft of his lower lip set tightly.

"Let me." You repeat yourself, moving forward and forcing him to back up a little and make room for you. You deftly move to sit on his desk, facing him, and beckon him towards you without looking up. If you looked up, you might lose your nerve.

You part your legs and much to your surprise, he actually moves forward, coming to settle between them. You can feel the heat of his body radiating off of him. You're suddenly very aware of the friction between his dress pants and the material of your own fitted ones.

You take the alcohol wipe and tear open the packaging, unraveling the cloth before cautiously moving towards him and dabbing at the area that seemed to have opened up slightly. He releases a sharp hiss and suddenly, his hand is at your waist, gripping tightly. You pause, looking up at his face. His eyes are shut, lips pressed tightly together. After a second, he nods, indicating at you to continue. He doesn't make a sound again as you clean up the area, though he does tighten his grip ever so slightly a couple more times.

You look at the items on his desk and pick up the jar of salve that he must put on prior to the dressings. Carefully, you unscrew the lid, looking up at him with a question in your eyes. He nods again, barely looking at you.

You try to do it quickly. Fingers picking up some of the salve and gingerly spreading it over the region, brushing past raised skin, puckered up as it heals. Slowly. Not fast enough for him.

Aaron watches as your head is bent, teeth biting down on your lower lip in concentration as you gently span the entirely of his chest and stomach. Soft, dainty fingers quickly working so as to put him out of his misery faster.

Of all people, he didn't want you to see him this way. So vulnerable, so exposed, so scarred. You'd thrown him off balance when you hadn't quickly scampered away after you realized your error in barging in. Approached him with such purpose that he hadn't known how to turn you away.

You reach for the fresh roll of gauze next, swallowing as you look up at him once again. "This would be easier if you take the shirt off."

He shrugs it off at your words, placing it on the back of his chair. There's a fresh shirt on the seat of his chair. He'd been prepared, it would seem.

"This might put a dent in the line of women waiting to pounce." He indicates towards his chest, self deprecation dripping from his weak attempt at humor, in an effort to cut whatever imaginary tension he had made up in his head.

You look at his face, seeing the vulnerability and insecurity as plain as can be. He doesn't need to verbalize his thoughts in order for you to know exactly what he's thinking. What he's been thinking.

Who would want someone this grotesque?

Who would want a man as broken as this?

Who could possibly bear the sight of him - marred forever? His very flesh a perpetual reminder of the terror he wades through, the monsters he encounters, the horror that is his life.

"No."

Your answer is simple, straightforward. Yet nothing has ever confused him more as he watches you hold one end of the gauze to the front of his chest near the top of the scarring, and then bring the roll around his back, over it to hold it in place, your small hands ghosting over his skin with the utmost propriety, intent in making this as painless, as easy, as comfortable for him as possible.

"I'm not going to tell you some patronizing bullshit about scars being beautiful."

You control your breath in easy measured paces, forcing him to follow along. One breath in. Pause. Breath out. Repeat. You continue to wrap the dressing around his chest slowly, your eyes fixed on the task at hand to ensure that it was all straight and even, tight but not too tight.

"They do, however, speak to all that you've endured. All that you've conquered. Overcome. Anyone who loves you will see you just as you are. They would think you absolutely incredible. Regardless of anything. Because of it all."

Aaron focuses on your voice, soft and melodic and yet sure. So very sure. How could you possibly be so sure?

"Someone who loves you will see the scars," your fingers press ever so slightly against his chest, "and they will know. They will know all that you've undergone to become who are - how you survived despite the odds."

You take a sudden shuddered breath as you recall the sight of him unconscious in the hospital bed, being wheeled past you. You're quick to shake it away.

"They will be grateful. To have you, scars and all."

You finish, tucking in the end of the gauze firmly and ensuring it wouldn't come loose with just the slightest of motions.

You look up at him then, finally meeting his eyes properly. Beautiful, deep brown eyes with flecks of gold brought on by the late afternoon sunlight that was filtering through the windows.

Aaron can't help but look at you. He rarely gets to see you this up close. So very close. If he were to just bend down the smallest amount, there'd be no space at all. Your hair bundled back into a professional low bun, soft wisps framing your face. The cupid's bow lips - pouty, pink, perfect lips. The upturned nose and the slight babyface cheeks that accompanied it. He realizes his hand is still gripped onto your waist and he's reluctant to remove it. Not yet. In a bit. Not yet.

"Thank you." His eyes are closed as he says it so he misses it when you nod your acknowledgement.

You lean past him, one hand grabbing his forearm for balance while the other reaches for the shirt on the chair. You'd started the job. Might as well finish it. You unbutton the collar and he takes it from you, quickly slipping it on, and yet not moving away. His hand returns to your waist. Staying where you could easily reach up and start buttoning it for him. So you do.

Aaron knows you don't need a response to everything you'd said. He also is quite certain that you believe it. No matter the entirely shallow world you'd been a part of, he knows that you aren't like that. You might be a little vain - the nice clothes and makeup, the care you put into your own appearance. However, you're not vain like this.

Aaron breathes out a deep sigh that he'd been holding for some time as you dexterously work each button into its proper hole. He really could get used to this. To you.

"Why do you always sit on stuff?" His voice is soft and low, calmer.

You glance up, noting the slight humor dancing behind his eyes while he waits for your answer.

You can't help but smile, a breath of laughter escaping you just barely. "I suppose���because I'm short," you admit, shaking your head as you continue down the trail of buttons. "Makes it easier for me to be at eye level if I sit on higher surfaces."

He laughs. A near boisterous laugh. His chest rumbles underneath your hands, causing your fingers to tremble.

You can't help but laugh along with him, releasing a deep held breath as you do.

He would be alright. He would.