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erin-bo-berin · 4 years

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Prove It

MASTERLIST

This was an anon request of Spencer getting mad at being teased and being motivated enough to prove he’s not vanilla. This took forever from the time it was first requested for me to write and post it, so I’m so sorry to the anon who requested it. It feels like it’s been FOREVER since I’ve posted a smut too, so enjoy some smutty Spencer to start your week. Happy reading!

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: M (smut, rough sex)

Word Count: 4,246

“I will never understand it.”

“Understand what?” you asked.

You sat down in one of the chairs in the jet, across from coworker and teammate Derek Morgan.

You and the team you were a part of, the Behavioral Analysis Unit—BAU for short—of the FBI had just solved another case and were on the way home.

You’d seen plenty of sickos before, so another one didn’t seem to surprise you. Of course, it was disgusting and aggravating, horrifying and awful, but you never pretended to understand unsubs in the first place. So you were quite curious about what Morgan was thinking out loud about.

Spencer Reid plopped down in the chair next to you with his cup of coffee.

How the man managed to live off coffee and actually go to sleep was a mystery to you. At this point it would benefit him to just have his coffee injected into him through IV, that’s how much he consumed.

“This S&M stuff,” Morgan waved his hand, “It’s insane.”

The case they’d just recently closed had involved a guy who had taken his violent sexual desires a step too far and found himself turned on by actually murdering women. Whether it was by choking or gagging, somehow he’d discovered he got a sexual release from killing his female partners.

What started as auto erotic asphyxiation—something that was incredibly dangerous to begin with—had turned to something more sinister and even more deadly.

“When done right, it’s actually not as bad as some of these unsubs make us believe,” Spencer said.

“I’m sure you know all about it, don’t you kid?” Morgan replied, sarcastically.

“Anyway,” he continued, before Spencer could cut in again, “I’m not judging people who do it, it just seems like even when it’s done right, it’s too dangerous to even be exciting. It’d be a mood killer for me.”

“Oh don’t tell me you don’t bring out your dominant side every once and awhile,” you smirked, teasing him.

“Hey, I’m all for some good rough sex. I’m not as vanilla as pretty boy here, but I’m not about to emotionally and physically scar Savannah.”

“Hey! What’s that’s supposed to mean?!” Spencer protested.

Savannah was Morgan’s wife, now of three years. They had a son together, Hank. Being a parent according to Morgan, you didn’t get much “mommy and daddy time”, but even then, it didn’t stop him from shamelessly sharing details about his sex life. You got used to it; it was just a Derek thing anyway.

“Sure, I’ve done some tying up and spanking, but that’s mild compared to some practices in BDSM. I once asked Reid about it and unfortunately learned more than I ever wanted to about it.”

“Excuse me,” Spencer broke in, “What’s the vanilla remark supposed to mean?”

Both yours and Derek’s heads turned to see Spencer’s brows furrowed.

“Kid, vanilla ice cream is spicier than you,” Morgan teased.

“Oh come on, that’s not true!” Spencer retorted, exasperated.

“I’m sorry Reid, I just can’t imagine you being kinky. I mean do you just spout facts during sex or what?”

You held back a snicker although you heard the rest of the team chuckling.

“No, I don’t,” Spencer flushed.

You averted your eyes from his gaze.

You and Spencer had been dating for a little while, the team none the wiser to your relationship. You couldn’t quite defend him without giving it away.

It wasn’t really a secret per se, you just mutually decided not to say anything until it became more serious. You had only slept together a few times anyway, so it wasn’t like you were familiar with his sexual proclivities.

“You’re more vanilla than Vanilla Ice,” Morgan joked, making you choke on your sip of water, laughing.

“How would you know anyway?” Spencer crossed his arms, his face now a deep red, “I could be kinkier than you know.”

“Dude, when’s the last time you even slept with a girl?” Morgan asked with a raised brow, “Wasn’t it that bartender Austin from a case 11 years ago?”

Spencer pressed his lips together tightly. He wasn’t going to say anything and you knew it because it would give away yours and his personal business.

“That’s what I thought. Vanilla,” Derek laughed, standing to refill his tumbler with more whiskey, “Don’t worry Pretty Ricky, not everyone has to be an animal in bed.”

He patted Spencer’s shoulder as he walked by to head to the back of the jet—and the whiskey decanter.

You could tell by Spencer’s pursed lips that he was annoyed.

You promised yourself that when the jet landed, you would apologize.

•

You had been wrong.

Spencer wasn’t annoyed.

He was pissed.

“Spencer, I’m sorry,” you repeated for the hundredth time.

Once the jet had landed, everyone went their separate ways, so no one was the wiser when you’d climbed into Spencer’s car. You had spent more time at his place lately than your own, so you were heading back to his apartment with him.

The entire drive was filled with tense silence. His jaw stayed clenched all the way home.

“Spence, please talk to me. If I hurt your feelings, that wasn’t my intention.”

You followed him into his apartment, watching as he sat down his go bag and satchel by the door. You sat your own things near his, as well.

You didn’t miss how tense he was, indicating his anger.

“Spence-” you began, but got cut off by his sharp tone.

“Go into the bedroom, take off all your clothes and get on the bed,” he snapped.

You were taken back, unsure if you’d heard him right the first time.

“What?”

“I said, go into the bedroom, take off all your clothes and get on the bed. I won’t repeat myself. And don’t make me do it myself cause you will regret it.”

You stood frozen in place for a second, your mouth opening and closing. By the look on his face, you could tell he was serious.

“O-Okay,” you stammered, walking backwards to the bedroom.

You had no idea what he had planned, but deep down, you could feel the tingle of excitement beginning to work its way to the surface. Maybe some rough sex would ease his anger.

You were out of your shirt and pants before you reached the bed. You pulled off your bra, letting it fall from your fingertips and then rid your underwear before climbing onto the bed like you were asked to do, laying back.

It was at least a good ten minutes before Spencer came into the room, with something in each hand.

“What’s that?”

He didn’t answer you.

He sat what appeared to be a glass of ice on the nightstand and grabbed one of your wrists, starting to tie it to the bedpost with what you now realized was one of his ties.

You watched as he tied the opposite one before you spoke.

“Spence, I-”

“Quiet. I don’t want to hear another word from you unless I say to speak,” he growled, climbing onto the bed, hovering over you.

His face lingered above yours, his lips not far from your own. He didn’t kiss you yet, but you could feel his warm breath fanning over your face, the anticipation of his lips finally being on yours making you anxious.

His nose nudged yours gently as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, his eyes lidded, although they occasionally flicked up toward yours. He knew how much you wanted him to kiss you and he was using that to his advantage.

Finally, it came, feather light. It was like kissing a cloud, the faint touch not nearly enough to satiate your needs. You tried to lean upwards to meet his lips again, taking what you wanted, what you needed, but he pulled out of your reach, a wicked smirk on his face.

“Oh so this is how it’s going to be?” you mock pouted.

“My bed, my rules,” he answered.

The anticipation of this kiss made your heart race and your breath hitch. If he was willing enough to deprive you this easily and this early on, what else was he capable of?

When his lips finally met yours, it was in a surprisingly gentle manner, considering you were currently tied to his bedposts. His mouth glided along with yours, the intensity picking up rather quickly.

His hunger and anger seemed to meld into one as he kissed you roughly, pulling back enough to capture your lower lip between his, his teeth softly scraping over it. A small, satisfied sigh emitted from you, against his lips.

Your mouth parted as you continued to enjoy the feel of his mouth on yours, his tongue being both graceful and teasing at the same time, it moving swiftly over your bottom lip.

You were already struggling with your restraints, wanting to touch him as he kissed you. Normally, your touch was everywhere on him when you kissed. From his face to his shoulders and chest and in his curls, you ravished being able to touch him. But you didn’t have that luxury right now and it was absolutely killing you.

He pulled away, lips hovering over your jaw as he kissed it just slightly, ready to move on to other areas.

“By the time I’m done with you, you’ll have more than enough proof that I’m anything but vanilla,” he whispered huskily, placing a kiss against your throat.

Your thighs clamped inadvertently as you suddenly became even more turned on than you had been previously. He reached over you, towards the ice, grabbing a cube.

You watched him intently, gasping sharply when the shock of cold touched your skin, just along your collarbone.

“You gonna be a good girl and do what I say?” he asked, sliding the ice cube along your chest.

You nodded eagerly, biting down on your lip as he moved the ice over the swell of your breast and across your nipple making them tighten, both from the cold and your arousal. His lips followed the trail of ice over your breasts, tongue moving out to encircle your nipple and flick it. He repeated it on the opposite side and you gave a moan of approval at his explorations.

A trail of water was left behind on your skin as he continued on, gliding the ice down the middle of your chest towards your stomach. You felt goosebumps prickle your skin at the continuous icy cold sensation.

“You’re so hot, you’re making the ice melt quickly,” he purred.

His touch left you as he reached back towards the nightstand to grab another cube. Apparently he’d been right, as the first cube had melted completely.

Once the coolness touched your skin again you found yourself gasping. As tantalizing as this teasing was, you were extremely turned on by it. You could feel the heat within your body, your core already starting to pulsate with arousal.

“I really hate that I can’t touch you,” you groaned, tugging on your restraints.

“But that’s what makes it fun, sweetheart,” he grinned, placing a kiss on your stomach.

The ice cube moved down one of your sides, over your hip, where he gave it a playful squeeze. Then the cold hit the top of your thighs, his other hand gliding to the top of the opposite one.

You were desperate at the point and automatically widened the space between your legs. If anything, you were going to let him get a good view of just how wet you were.

His eyes flickered downwards then back up towards your face, a satisfied smirk on his lips. You squirmed, anxious for him to do anything.

“Problem, love?” he cooed.

You glared, arching your hips in an attempt to get some sort of contact.

He chuckled, spreading your legs further. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but the ice moving over your outer lips definitely wasn’t it.

You hissed at the sudden cold, but you didn’t hate it at all. Not like you hated these fucking restraints. You cursed when he pressed it against your clit.

“Fuck, that feels good,” you moaned.

He hummed, looking up at you through his lashes. You groaned in frustration, throwing your head back against the pillow, tugging at your bound wrists again.

You wanted to push his head or his hands to your throbbing core; maybe both at this rate.

“Spencer, please,” you whimpered.

“Okay,” he relented, sitting back on his heels, “You’ve been a good girl so far.”

He reached over you, pulling the knotted ties loose from around your wrists. It was like sweet freedom to you.

Before you could even touch him, he’d taken a hold of you, rolling you over so you were straddling his stomach.

“Ooh, I’m in control? I like,” you grinned, leaning down to kiss him.

You didn’t quite make it to his lips.

“Think again.”

He grabbed the back of your thighs, roughly pulling you up to sit on his face. This, you hadn’t suspected.

“Oh god,” you moaned lowly as his tongue slid up your outer lips.

His hands held your thighs tightly and he wasted no time diving right in. His tongue flicked your clit and you had to grab a hold of the headboard just to make sure you didn’t collapse on top of him.

Of course oral sex had been a part of your sex life with Spencer prior to this, but never in this way. He was usually more timid about it. But right now, he went for it in a very enthusiastic manner.

“Fuck, Spence.”

You groaned, his lips circling your clit to suck on it briefly before releasing it with a tiny pop of his mouth. His tongue flicked over it again, alternating in speed and pressure.

You had thought it couldn’t get any better until you felt a finger slide into you. You could’ve sworn you almost lost your mind at that point. His finger slowly pumped in and out of you, matching the now slower speed of his tongue that seemed to be licking everywhere but your clit.

“Dammit Spencer,” you groaned, slightly grinding against his mouth for some friction.

You jerked a bit, a surprised squeal coming from you when his hand came down on your ass. It wasn’t a bad reaction though, it had just excited you even more.

“Did you just spank me?!” you asked incredulously.

He hummed, sending a delicious vibration against your clit as his hand came down again on your ass making you moan loudly.

You had no idea there was this side to him.

“Fuck, Spencer, yes baby,” you whined, your hips moving back and forth over his face as his fingers and tongue drove you crazy.

The faster his fingers went, the harder his tongue moved. You were gripping the headboard so tight, your knuckles were white.

“Ah!” you squealed, at an additional spank.

It wasn’t hard enough to be too rough and painful, just hard enough to be incredibly sexy, sending a charge directly to your currently, extremely stimulated clit.

It was also incredibly appealing to you to feel the slight scratch of his facial hair against your nether regions as he ravished you.

You could feel your entire body tensing, preparing for the rush of adrenaline and ecstasy. Apparently, Spencer could too.

He worked you until you came shattering apart above him. His name mixed with a loud moan and curses sprinkled in.

When the high had ebbed a bit, he moved you back to sit on his stomach, a wolfish grin on his face. You still felt a bit dazed since there was still a bit of buzz left tingling within you.

You noticed then that your boyfriend was way overdressed.

“It’s time to do something about these,” you mumbled, unbuttoning his dress shirt, “You’ve got too many clothes on.”

He allowed you to pull his shirt off, but his hand grabbed yours just as they reached for his belt.

“I am going to fuck you bent over my desk and only bent over my desk.”

He gave you no time to react as he’d already lifted you in his arms and stood from the bed, heading to the living room.

“Spencer, what? I-”

The words died on your lips as he entered the living room and his desk came into view. Normally, it was stacked neatly with his books, files, paperwork that he needed to complete, pens, pencils, a couple of coffee mugs, the works. But now, it was completely clear, showing off its deep, dark brown, glossy desktop.

Heat pooled in your stomach when you realized he’d planned ahead for this. He’d imagined bending you over his desk, having his way with you. You swallowed back a moan, already eager for him to be buried inside of you.

Instead of immediately pushing you over the edge of the desk, he sat you on top of it, facing him.

You bit your lip, quite literally looking up through your lashes at him. His tongue moved over his lips, his hunger for you apparent as his hands traced every inch of you.

From your breasts, down your stomach, to your thighs and around towards your bottom, squeezing it gently, his hands traveled every part of you before capturing your mouth in another kiss.

It was no innocent kiss. It was fiery and filled with the mutual hunger for one another. He was still kissing you when he slid you off the desktop, your feet touching the floor once again.

He turned you and had you bent over the edge of his desk in a matter of seconds. You heard the clink and whir of his belt as he unbuckled it, the sound alone sending a charge through you.

You shifted impatiently, much to his notice. He smirked, running a hand between your legs teasingly, as he pushed his suit pants out of the way with the other hand.

He wasted no time on gentle and loving movements. He entered you roughly and quite honestly, when you weren’t expecting it.

You whimpered. The feeling of your most intimate parts stretching just enough to accommodate him was one of the best feelings in the world to you.

By this point, you’d lost the ability to be quiet. He’d already brought you to one earth shattering orgasm and that was after the tantalizing ice foreplay that had turned you on beyond belief.

Your constant moans filled the room as your hands gripped the edges of the desk.

Your hips were tight in his grip as he thrust into you fast and hard, your own body bouncing off his in the opposite direction. He, for one, was much louder than he normally was. Grunts, groans, mumbled curses and pants came from behind you as he had his way with you.

His lips hovered over your neck, his appraising moans ringing in your ears.

“Fucking shit, fuuuck, Y/N,” he groaned before attaching his lips to your neck.

He sucked harshly, hard enough to know that hickies would be present for the next few days.

You inhaled sharply, feeling the slight sting of his teeth bearing down into your shoulder, but coupled with your current pleasure, it was actually hot.

Your back arched as he focused on what he’d learned—quite quickly, you might add—was one of your absolute sweet spots, his hips aiding in thrusting deeply within you.

Spencer’s hand snaked up your spine, tangling in your hair, his fingers wrapping around a few strands. It surprised you when he pulled on it, firm enough to pull your head to the side. You moaned at the sensation, ready for him to do anything at this point. You were so turned on, you were a moaning, whimpering mess underneath him.

“Still. Think. I’m. Vanilla?”

Each of his words were clipped, growled into your ear and enunciated with a forceful thrust.

“No,” you rasped, quickly losing control of yourself and becoming delirious from the ecstasy he was providing you with.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” he grunted, halting his movements completely.

You about sobbed in agony, wanting the feel of him back. Your hips automatically moved backwards to get some more friction, but Spencer held them still.

“Tell me,” he groaned, the slight strain in his voice indicating he was struggling with keeping still, himself.

You cursed, craving the delicious sensation of him deep within you again especially since you were on the brink of shattering like broken glass.

“Who’s not vanilla?” Spencer taunted.

He began moving once again, his motions slow and teasing. He slid in and out of you with long, lackadaisical thrusts although he made sure each move was deep enough so you could feel every inch of him within you.

“Dammit Spencer, please,” you mewled, encircling your hips in small movements.

His low groan that came from above you was telling enough that he was trying and failing to keep his cool.

“Answer me,” he murmured huskily, his lips traveling up your back, hands reaching forward to massage your breasts in his hands.

“Answer me,” he repeated, “And I’ll fuck you like you deserved to be fucked.”

Your mouth dropped, a haggard moan escaping your throat. You weren’t used to hearing Spencer dirty talk and you’d realized that you instantly loved it.

His facial hair scratched your cheek as his mouth moved in the vicinity of it, sucking on your jaw.

“Be a good girl and answer me and I promise I’ll fuck you so hard you’ll see stars, baby girl,” his low whisper came, one hand gliding between your legs, finger ghosting your clit.

“I’ll make you cum harder than you even imagined. Until you’re dripping all over my cock. I wanna fuck my girl, good, Spencer purred.

“Oh my god,” you cried, the overstimulation of his words and his touch finally getting you to lose absolute control of your conscious mind.

“You, Spencer, you,” you moaned.

The only sounds that filled his living room were the mixed moans and the sound of your bodies moving together as he fulfilled his promise and resumed his earlier pace though more erratic this time.

Your inadvertent clenching around him with every move was making him lose control quickly.

“Fuck, fuuuuck,” you whined, clenching the edges of the desk so hard you knew your hands would be sore later.

In the back of your mind, a small part of you registered that you most likely sounded akin to a pornstar right now, though you didn’t spend much time on the thought. The fire in your veins was igniting the growing pressure in your stomach, like a furnace growing too hot.

It took less than a few moves before you went tumbling over the cliff of ecstasy. Your eyes screwed shut, your vision going completely white behind your closed eyes as you managed out a satisfied, bliss filled cry.

It was like lightning had struck your body except the electricity had come straight from the pit of your belly. Spencer had been right, it was the most intense orgasm you’d ever experienced.

It was the body shaking, breathtaking, best kind of high ever, type of intense.

His own had soon followed as you’d tumbled down the rabbit hole of your own delirium. His hands gripped your sides and his body shuddered behind yours.

“Y/N, Y/N,” he groaned repeatedly, still moving with you, wringing every last drop of pleasure out of both of your orgasms.

His face was buried in the crook of your neck as you arched back into him, reaching behind him to grip his hair as you rode out the waves of pleasure.

It took a few moments before both of you stilled, your breathing hard, heart beating wildly.

When your senses had somewhat turned to normal and the rushing of your blood in your ears had calmed down, you noticed your legs shaking—a definite sign of a good fucking.

You felt his breath on your neck, his breathlessness matching your own. Your body felt slick against his from all of the exertion, but it had been totally worth it.

Spencer pushed your hair to one side of your neck, burying his face into your neck sweetly before leaving a gentle kiss there.

“My god, Spencer,” you half laughed, trying to focus the tiny bit of energy you had left on attempting to stand.

Disconnecting himself from you, he turned you to face him. He lifted you back on to the desktop to sit, not caring that your thighs were currently slick with the product of his own orgasm. Your quivering legs were thankful for the momentary reprieve though.

“I know,” he smirked, “Didn’t know I had it in me, huh?”

“Definitely not,” you smirked, lifting your face up towards his.

Your lips met his lazily. You spent a few minutes enjoying one other, mouths parting and meeting over and over, enjoying the post coital consequential kisses before getting cleaned up.

His hands splayed over the tops of your thighs, stroking gently. He may have been rough with you earlier, but you knew his gentle touch was him wordlessly assuring himself you were okay.

You were actually more than okay—you had definitely been well fucked.

“Spencer?” you mumbled against his lips.

“Hmm?”

He pulled away from you, his eyes opening, his dreamy, currently hazy, hazel eyes meeting yours.

“Remind me to never listen to Morgan ever again.”

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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years

Text

We Keep Going, That’s All

@whimpers-and-whumpers , this is for you. Hope your surgery goes well today!

CW: Aftermath of near-death, hospital whump, recovery whump, survivor's guilt, alcohol use, referenced drug use

Ryan shows up to the hospital with Coke bottles full of liquid that absolutely is not Coke - or not much of it, anyway - and Nate doesn't refuse the gift.

He twists off the plastic cap and takes a drink, wincing at the burn down his throat. "Jesus, Ryan, this is m-m-more Jack than Coke."

"Yeah, well. Figured we could use some relaxing." Ryan gives him a slight smile, and the bruising that's been along his jaw - the obvious press of fingers - is finally starting to fade. Off-white bandages ring his neck, hiding from direct view the deep, slowly healing gashes rubbed in by the iron collar he'd worn for a year.

There are other wounds, Nate knows, underneath the lightly-draped black t-shirt Ryan wears, under his effortlessly casual, perfectly-on-trend jeans.

There are deeper wounds still entirely underneath his skin, inside his head. Nate knows those even better. He doesn't begrudge Ryan the need to find some way to fuzz out the edges of what must be written in stark, bright blood in his memory.

Nate spent a year and a half doing the same, after all, before Bram came back for Danny again.

"How is he?" Ryan asks, settling into a hard wooden chair with plastic back and cushion in a dull pastel mauve. "Any different?”

"Then y-yesterday?" Nate exhales, slowly, rubbing at his unshaven jaw. The stubble prickles his fingertips, itches a little as it grows in. There's a razor in the private room's little bathroom, but he doesn't have the energy to use it. All of Nate's energy now is focused entirely around staying right here, being right here, for the rare moments that Danny is both awake and himself.

"Yesterday wasn't... great.”

"No, it wasn't." Nate sighs, leaning over in the chair he sits in, next to Ryan, reaching out with his good left hand to gently nudge a bit of wavy red away from over Danny's face.

The love of his life - the man he's killed for, twice, and would kill for again - lays on his stomach with his head turned to one side. The hospital blanket is pulled up nearly to his chin, hiding from view the fact that nearly all of Danny seems made of bandages these days, bandages and tubes and wires. He breathes slowly, a drugged deep sleep to let his body rest and try desperately to heal itself around the nearly-fatal place the knife went into his back.

He sleeps, more than he's awake. But Nate makes sure that when his eyes open, someone is here for him, every single time.

"Today has been a little b-better, I think," Nate says after a moment's though. He brushes a crumb from the corner of Danny's mouth. "He ate a l-little, this morning. Just Jell-O and a little bit of cereal, but...”

"But something." Ryan nods, takes another drink, looks out the window. Outside, the day is bright and sunny, with a cloudless blue sky. The courtyard below is full of visiting families and patients taking walks through the landscaped flowers, all of them in brilliant bloom. "Have you even left this room since we got here?”

"No." Nate doesn't bother to lie.

Ryan looks over at him, and smiles very slightly. "Remind me to bring you by some multivitamins do you don't die of Vitamin D deficiency.”

"I'm f-fine." Nate takes another drink, feels the warmth slowly spreading through his shoulders, relaxing the knots and tension that have been slowly building day by day. The 'bed' he has here is just a visitor's couch built into the wall, lumpy and hard, with exactly one flat pillow with a scratchy pillowcase. But he'd rather be here than anywhere else. He'll be here for every single second Danny needs him. "I eat oranges for breakfast every d-d-day. No sc-... sc-... scurvy for me.”

"Didn't we joke about scurvy once?" Ryan asks, slightly faintly, looking up at the ceiling. "After Danny came home the first time?”

"M-Maybe. Don't remember. Why do you c-care if I feel good, anyway?”

“My brother can’t fuss over you right now,” Ryan says with a casual shrug. “So someone has to. He’ll never let me live it down if anything happened to you while he’s here. I’ll get chewed out if you get so much as a headcold and we both know it.”

“I d-doubt-”

Danny shifts a little and both men go silent, watching him move in the bed - just an inch or so to the right, his eyes tightly closed, body tensing as even the slightest movement brings a wash of pain.

"It's okay," Nate whispers, and Danny's eyelids flicker, slowly open. The blue in them is hazy and clouded, but not empty. This time, at least, it's Danny who is looking at him, and not the other one, the one that Nate knows only as someone else. The one who runs Danny's body when Danny can't do it any longer.

"Hey," Danny says, in a hoarse whisper. He tries for a smile, and it's faded and wobbly, but it's there. Then he lifts his head a little, looking over to see Ryan. "Oh, you're both... here. How long was I asleep?”

"Four hours or s-s-so," Nate says, standing up - ignoring the twinge of pain in his bad knee - and moving the pillow under Danny's head to still support him even as he moves. A hint of freckled shoulder shows, with its swirling trace of scars from Bram's knife. There's a star carved into the back of his left shoulder that Nate did, at Bram's command, once.

Ryan's gaze be damned, Nate leans over to kiss it, and to kiss one by one the carved letters that are still there, faded, in the back of Danny's neck. A. D. N.

He tries not to feel the guilt that twists in him at the ownership Bram had meant to make obvious, there. His own first initial with Bram's initials, his own... his own culpability.

“How do you feel?” Ryan asks, leaning over close to Danny.

Danny’s nose wrinkles. “You smell like a liquor store.”

“Yeah, well. When your big brother scares the shit out of you by getting himself stabbed almost to death because of you, maybe you need a little pick-me-up now and then.” Ryan manages a half-cocked smile, but it’s fragile, and they both know it.

With a hiss of pain, Danny moves his hand up the bed, offering it to Ryan, who takes it without hesitation, leaning over so his forehead rests gently against Danny’s.

“I’m okay,” Danny whispers.

“No, you’re not,” Ryan whispers back.

Nate moves to sit back in his chair, then stands again, restless. He doesn’t want to sit there but he doesn’t know where he does want to be... until he looks at Danny, thin and dwarfed even by a small hospital bed. He sets down the mostly-jack-and-a-little-coke and climbs into the bed without hesitating, laying down behind Danny on his side, letting his good hand rest just next to a swirl of Danny’s hair on the pillow.

Danny’s smile widens - not that Nate can see that, from his vantage point. Although Ryan can. “I’ll be okay,” He corrects himself, watching his brother. “They said there’s no sign of paralysis. I’ll walk, I’ll probably even run after a while.” He tries moving and hisses again. “A long while. It’s going to be okay, Ryan.”

“You always were way more optimistic when you were high as balls,” Ryan whispers, and he and Danny laugh, until the action makes Danny whimper at a new spike of pain. “What do we do now, Dan, huh?”

“Keep going,” Danny says, voice low, barely audible even to the two men on either side of him. “That’s all. We keep going.”

“I keep thinking I should’ve died back there, ten times over,” Ryan murmurs. “But every single time, you took the pain for me. I should’ve died-”

“Nah. You’re my little brother. I need you here.” Danny manages to keep the smile, then, and his blue eyes are warm. “If you feel so bad about it, sneak me some of that booze next time, yeah?”

"Dan, I am not going to help you mix IV drugs and alcohol-”

“Just leave it in a really easy-to-reach place and I’ll help myself.”

“Danny. No.”

“Danny yes.”

“Daniel Michaelson-”

“Ryan Niall Michaelson-”

Nate’s rumbling laughter interrupts them. It’s such a rare sound that both of them go immediately silent when they hear it, and Danny even tries to look over his shoulder, gritting his teeth through the ache to see the smile on Nate’s face. It’s slight, nearly private - a smile barely noticeable by anyone who isn’t looking for it.

But Danny is, and through the fog of the painkillers still coursing through his system, he sees it.

“What?” Ryan says. “What’re you laughing at?”

Nate lays a hand over the star he once carved into Danny’s skin, and moves to rest his nose, just lightly, against the warmth of Danny’s neck, breathing in the scent of him under the hospital-smell that surrounds them. “Nothing,” He says, and Danny shivers a little as his lips move against the curve of the D at the back of his neck. “I’m j-j-just... realizing I’m g-going to listen to you two do this for the r-rest of my life.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Ryan’s voice is dry.

“No,” Nate says, eyes closed. He can almost feel them in the cabin, like this, just the two of them on days Bram was gone. Lying in the bed wasting the whole morning being warm, just them together. Warm and safe. It feels like being in Danny’s apartment during their year and a half of freedom, the way sometimes when Nate couldn’t get out of bed Danny would just stay with him, holding him, until the pain inside of Nate had lessened enough to let him stand.

Now it’s his turn to hold Danny.

@tiddiroki @whump-it @bleeding-demon-teeth @finder-of-rings @whumpywhumper @endless-whump @18-toe-beans @pumpkinthefangirl @goneuntil @swordkallya @astrobly @evermetnotforgotten @whumpiary @card-games-and-pain @raigash @whump-tr0pes @orchidscript @wildfaewhump @doveotions @eatyourdamnpears

#daniel michaelson's story #hospital whump #recovery whump #recovering whumpee #referenced stabbing #referenced drug use #alcohol use #caretakers #caretaker and whumpee #whump #aftermath whump #the bad arc #injured whumpee #survivor's guilt tw

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winterscaptain · 4 years

Text

fear itself.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader

a/n: part two of the 100 arc! this installment covers the events of faceless, nameless. i am living for the feedback! please keep it coming. i can’t wait to hear what you think as we go through this (very emotionally wrought) section.

words: 4.5k warnings: canon-typical violence, language, hospital setting

summary: four hours of sleep and aaron’s missing. what else could go wrong?

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | requests closed!

4:02am “Just got home, so I’m calling like you asked. Shoot me a text when you get back to the apartment, if you aren’t already asleep. Call me when you’re up and we can work on that Nebraska consult, maybe in the early afternoon? Goodnight. Sleep well.”

8:13am “Hey, it’s me. I know I’m not supposed to be worried about you, but we were called in a half hour ago and you’re still not here...so...give me a call when you get this. Bye.”

8:48am “Hey, it’s me, checking in again. You’re probably still asleep, but I’ve never known you to sleep more than seven hours...so if I don’t hear from you by eleven I’ll drag you out of bed myself.”

9:51am “We’re headed to the crime scene. Garcia’s sent you the address. I know JJ’s been calling you too, so just...I dunno? Call us back? Bye.”

10:20am “If you’re getting these and ignoring me, I hope you know you’re taking years off my life right now.”

11:08am “Um...Call me back. I’m starting to worry. Well...not starting. I’ve been worried. But I’m getting...really worried.”

11:37am “Aaron please call me and let me know you’re alright. You’re scaring me.”

+++

Needless to say, it’s been a weird day. Why you expected anything else after that wretched Canada case and four hours of sleep, you have no idea.

You had a horrible dream last night, on top of everything else. The image of Aaron broken and bleeding beside you hadn’t left your mind since it first appeared in Foyet’s kitchen. You tried to shake it off every time, but it was persistent.

We’ll worry about that later.

You check the time again, trying to ignore the weird feeling in your gut.

Where is he?

Your phone rings and your heart leaps. Guilt (and a little bit of embarrassment) pricks at you when you’re disappointed to see Emily’s name on your phone. You answer.

“You have to get down here.” Her voice isn’t frantic, per se, but the urgency is undeniable.

“What’s going on?”

She takes a breath. “I just got off the phone with Garcia - I have crime scene techs and SWAT on the way to Hotch’s apartment, and I need you here.”

All the blood in your body seems to rush into your head, and you lean heavily on the nearest object - the dining room table. “What?”

“I - I don’t know. All his stuff is here and there's -” She stutters for a second. “There’s blood on the carpet, broken glass, and a bullet hole in the wall by the kitchen. No Hotch.”

An eerie kind of calm washes over you, and you straighten, making eye contact with Derek. “Okay. Let me just -”

Derek gets a call, but keeps his eyes on you. “What’s goin’ on, Baby Girl?...What do you mean ‘Emily just called SWAT to Hotch’s apartment’ what -“

You break his gaze as he nods at you and turns to the rest of the team. “Emily, I’ll be right there. Don’t go anywhere.”

+++

You make it to the hospital with Emily. You flash your credentials and it gets you exactly where you want to go.

When you see him, your breath catches. He looks awful - drawn and small and wrapped in what seems like miles of gauze. Emily grabs your arm, but you’re not sure if it's for her benefit or yours.

This is, after all, your worst nightmare come to life. A little chill crawls up your spine. This whole thing has you feeling six different kinds of scared.

The nurse lets you into his room, telling you he’ll be out for another hour, at least. “He needs the rest.”

Emily leaves you to retrieve coffee. You take the opportunity to sit beside him and slide your hand under his, careful not to disturb the IV. Your hand shakes - whether from anxiety, fear, fury, or all of the above, you’re not sure.

“If you die, Aaron Hotchner, I’ll kill you.”

You hear a little laugh from the doorway and you pull your hand from him. Emily shakes her head, two cups of coffee in her hands. “You’re fine. I'm not going to tattle.”

You squint. “Tattle?”

She rolls her eyes. “You’re so clueless it’s almost cute, but he’s worse.” She throws her head toward Hotch with a fond smile, handing you your cup of coffee.

+++

The rest of the team arrives in a flurry a little while later, and the nurse has to warn them off as Aaron starts to wake.

They quiet down, surrounding his bedside. You haven’t moved, making it your mission to keep your eyes on him at all times.

His eyes flutter before closing again. “Where am I?”

“You’re in the hospital,” you say, keeping your voice quiet and steady despite the tightness in your chest.

“How did I get here?”

Derek gets that one. “Foyet drove you.”

Aaron takes a breath. It’s shaky, and you imagine he’s in a lot of pain. Emily leans forward, looking for his eyes. “Can you remember what happened?”

He tells you, slowly, about how Foyet broke into the apartment, waited until he was home with his guard down, fired a shot, and then...He trails off. A heavy breath leaves him. “What did he take?”

You have an answer. “There was a page missing from your day planner, the Bs from the address section.”

He closes his eyes and his breath grows faster, his heart rate increasing. After a moment, he collects himself and asks Emily, “What did he leave?”

“I don’t know.”

“He also leaves something with his victims.”

Emily shakes her head. “I looked through your entire apartment. Nothing felt out of place.”

“Where are my clothes?”

“Right here.” You reach over, grabbing the bag and removing his bloody shirt with only the barest moment of hesitation. He reaches for the envelope of his personal effects and you press it into his hand, saving him the effort.

Tears prick at your eyes as you watch his hands shake, opening his wallet. He’s eerily quiet, and you catch a glimpse of a photo, tucked into the fold.

Haley and Jack. There’s blood on it. You recognize it from the desk in his home office space.

No.

Aaron’s come to the same conclusion, falling back on the pillows with a look you can only describe as defeated. It scares you. You swallow, pushing your tears back.

That’s the last thing he needs right now.

“Haley’s maiden name is Brooks. I always listed her in the Bs in my personal information in case it fell into the wrong hands.” Your hand, like JJ’s, has fallen over your mouth.

Oh.

Of course.

Of course, he keeps her under Brooks. All he wants to do is keep her safe.

You hope, one day, that someone will love you that much, will want to protect you with the same ferocity, will think of you before anything else.

You could only be so lucky.

He swallows and continues. “He knows where they live.”

Derek makes assignments. You’re to stay right where you are, while the rest focus on locating Haley and Jack.

When it’s just the two of you, he closes his eyes again. “I don’t know what I’m going to do if -”

“They’ll find her. They’ll find Jack. They’ll be safe.”

You have to believe it, too. They’re too important to you, to central to your life, now

He shakes his head, his eyes cracking open. “Why didn’t I just take the deal?” Clearing his throat, he continues, his voice a little stronger, but still rough. “He told me I should have. I never thought -” He cuts himself off.

You hand him a cup of water, and he takes it gratefully. Idly, you note he hasn’t looked you in the eye yet.

“Do you want an answer to your question?”

He doesn’t answer you, looking across the room.

You lean into his eye line. “You didn’t take the deal because you have the most integrity of anyone I’ve ever known. Anything he does is on him. It’s not on you.”

“But,” his voice breaks and the smallest of tears falls out of his eye. It tracks down his temple until you gently wipe it away with your thumb. “But I could have stopped all of this.”

“No,” you whisper. Your hand lingers on the side of his face. “No. He’ll be this way wherever he goes. The only way you change that is by catching him, Hotch.”

He finally looks at you, his brown eyes exhausted, hurting, and bloodshot. You card your fingers through the hair at his temple, putting the oxygen cannula back over his ear. Soon, he closes his eyes again, his vitals evening out as he falls asleep.

“We’ll get him, Aaron.”

A few tense minutes later, your phone buzzes in your pocket. When you see the caller ID, a shot of adrenaline zings around your body. “Haley?”

Your name is a sigh of relief in her mouth. “SWAT scared the hell out of me and I just - I don’t know.”

“Oh, Haley I’m so sorry. I should have gone over there with the team but -“ Derek knew my stress wouldn’t be useful.

“No, no. It’s fine. They’re getting Jack from a friend’s house, but they told me what’s going on. I’ll see you when I get to the hospital. I just -“ She laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “I just freaked out.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll see you soon.”

“I’ll see you soon. I love you.”

Your heart pulls. “I love you, too.”

She hangs up, and you stuff your phone back in your pocket.

Aaron wakes again when you pull a case file from your bag, but you’re not sure it’s your doing.

Shit.

He looks around a little frantically for a moment, still disoriented. You rise and cross the room, finding one of his hands.

“Hotch, it’s okay. You’re still in the hospital.”

“Haley?”

You nod. “They got her. She’s safe and she’s on her way with Jack.”

He finally relaxes, sinking back down into the pillows. “Thank you.”

You nod and resume your place on the other side of the room, patting the back of his hand as you let him go. He’s quiet, if not a little fidgety. You look at him for a minute. He takes a talking breath.

“After the first one, it kind of goes blank.” His breath is still a little unsteady, and you take your chair next to his bed again. “There were nine, apparently.”

Your breath catches. It’s not new information, but it’s still raw, sharp-edged.

Awful.

He swallows. “He taunted me.” His eyes beg you to understand, to keep him from flying off the rails.

“He’s a bastard, Aaron.”

He levels you with a withering stare. No shit.

“I know you know that, but it’s worth repeating.”

“I don’t want -“

You interrupt him, knowing exactly where he’s going. “You’re not going to become a victim. You aren’t a victim.”

“I don’t want Haley to -“

You press a hand to his arm, mindful of his bandages. “One day at a time. They’re safe today.”

His lip quivers and his voice leaves him in a whisper. “That’s not good enough.”

+++

Eventually, Haley arrives looking a little worse for wear.

Her haircut’s really cute.

The thought almost makes you laugh.

Of all the things to notice...

You startle a little as you remember where you are and rise, ready to give them space. She waves you off, giving you permission to stay.

“How do you feel?” She asks.

Aaron sits up a little more, not without effort, and says, “I’m gonna be okay.”

That’s not what she asked, stupid.

He continues. “Did they explain to you what’s happening?”

She nods. “They said the marshal's service is taking us straight from here and putting us into protective custody.” Her eyes meet yours, and you dip your chin. She’s right.

Aaron apologizes to Haley for the first of what you imagine will be many times.

Her lower lip disappears between her teeth. “Do you know where they’re gonna take us?”

“No,” you answer. “We don’t. And that’s the point.”

“I can’t know where you’re going,” Aaron adds. “If you have any contact with anyone, he can track you.”

That shocks her a little, and you can see she’s getting upset. “Jack has school. He has friends. I have a job now. I have -” She cuts herself off.

“I know.” He levels a steady, solemn gaze upon her. “And I’m sorry. We will catch him and you’ll come back.”

She looks at you again. “Are you sure we’re in danger?”

You nod, almost imperceptibly, and Hotch answers. “Yes.”

“And what about you? Are you gonna be safe?”

There it is.

She does love him.

You knew that, of course. Seeing them together during visits at home or out to dinner or otherwise in the presence of that other, that was never in question.

Your heart tugs.

Twenty-five years...

“He wants to see me suffer. Knowing that my son is out there and that I can’t see him is better than killing me.”

Haley wets her lips and swallows.

That’s her tell.

You figure she’ll burst into tears pretty soon. It was only a matter of time, and you don’t blame her in the least. You’ve had tears threatening you all afternoon, and this wasn’t even happening to you.

“Jack wants to see you.”

Aaron’s jaw gets a little tight. “I want to see him, too. I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

You hear what he can’t say, too. I don’t want to scare him. I don’t want him to see me like this.

“Look,” she says, exasperated. “I know you’re trying to protect him, but you both need this. Please.”

He nods, resigned. “Okay.”

Haley looks over and offers you a shaky smile, trying to break the tension. “He also asked me if you’d be here. He’ll be thrilled.”

That almost does you in. “So will I,” you tell her, meaning every syllable.

With another brisk nod and wipe of her face, she leaves the room to retrieve Jack. Aaron sits up a little straighter and you help him. He tries to suppress his wince, but fails.

“Do you need another round?”

He shakes his head. “I’ll be fine.”

“Just let me know.” You settle back into the corner, the case file in your lap.

Haley and Jack return, and she brings him to Aaron’s side, lifting him up onto the bed.

Aaron meets his eyes and tells him that he’s okay, giving him a little preparing for what’s about to happen. “But, what do I tell you whenever I go away?”

“That you love me.”

You hide your face, looking out the window as tears finally fall from your eyes. Haley’s eyes are on you and you know it. You wipe at your face and take a quiet breath before turning back, pretending to pay attention to the case in your lap.

In your periphery, you can see Aaron looking over Jack’s face as if to memorize it, as if he doesn’t already know every plane, every curve, every angle of his son’s face. “More than anything in the world.”

They exchange a few more words before he brings him close and kisses his forehead. You glance up, and they look so alike in their profiles it almost makes you smile. Haley’s crying, too, and she meets your eyes.

Something passes between you, but you don’t have a name for it.

You don’t need one.

Haley takes a breath and tucks her hair behind her ears. She redirects Jack’s attention to you, and his eyes light up. She helps him scramble off the bed and he books it around the bed to you.

You close the case file and open your arms to him. “Hi, bud.” It’s hard not to scare him with the feverish way you hold him close, your fingers wound in his hair.

There’s a failed attempt to avoid thinking about the uncertainty of the future, when you’ll see him again.

If ever.

Stop.

The pair of you lean back for a minute, and you brush his hair away from his forehead.

“Are you going away, too?” He asks.

You shake your head. “I’m gonna stay here with your dad.”

“Are you going to keep my dad safe? I’m going to keep Mom safe.”

It’s Aaron who looks away this time.

“Of course, my love.” You offer him something you hope looks like a smile. “We always keep each other safe. We’re a team, like you and your momma. I’m so proud of you.” You check in with Haley, who’s looking away, the back of her hand swiping at her cheek. When she turns back to you, you tilt your head a little.

Want a minute?

She nods.

You stand, Jack still tucked against your chest. “I think,” you say, as he sits back in your arms, “Miss Emily and Miss JJ are back and might have something fun for you over there.” You tip your head toward the waiting room. “Wanna go see?”

He nods, leaning back into you and playing with your collar. You pat Aaron’s knee and squeeze Haley’s shoulder with your free hand as you pass.

Aaron watches you go, your low murmuring comforts to Jack lost in the ambient hospital noise. When you find JJ and look back, giving him a small (if not a little watery) smile, he looks over at Haley, guilt closing up his throat.

“I’m so sorry, Haley. I promise, when this is all over, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

She gives him a half-smile and sits on the edge of his bed. She reaches for him, and he takes both of her hands in his. There’s silence for a moment as they sit together. She studies him.

While it doesn’t bother him (she has been looking at him for nearly twenty-five years, after all), he does feel more exposed under her gaze than he’s used to.

“You should do something about that, one of these days,” she says, looking over her shoulder. You’re still visible in the window, talking to JJ while Jack is still glued to you. His little arms are tight around your neck, his head tucked under your chin.

Aaron’s brow furrows, but the EKG picks up the increase in his heart rate, much to his embarrassment. “What are you talking about?”

Haley laughs, a light, watery, delicate thing, and turns back to him. It almost brings a smile to his face. “Do you think I don’t know what you look like when you’re head over heels, Aaron Hotchner? After eighteen years of marriage and twenty-five years knowing you? Give me a break.”

His jaw grows tight, but he holds her gaze.

“You used to look at me like that, you know.” A little smile plays at her lips and she looks down, almost shy. “Still do, sometimes.”

“I love you, Haley.”

She squeezes his hand. “I know you do.” A sigh leaves her and she looks over her shoulder again, just catching a glimpse of you and JJ out in the hall with Jack as you go scavenging for something sweet. There’s a little smile at the corner of her mouth when she turns back to him. “You are so loved, Aaron.”

“I don't…” He huffs, frustrated. “I don’t feel -”

“I’m not saying you have to do anything, but it might do you some good to just…” She sighs, throwing a hand up in a kind of searching gesture. “I don’t know, be honest with yourself. Think for a minute.”

His teeth worry the inside of his lower lip as he thinks about it. He does care about you. But love?

He thinks of the way his chest feels too small whenever you laugh, the way he always goes above and beyond to make sure you’re safe in the field, how he looks for you when you’re out of the room, how he looks for you when you’re in the room.

The way you are with Jack brings him to his knees every time. The sound of his son’s laughter under your tickling fingers never fails to bring a smile to his face.

You’ve helped him heal what seemed like an insurmountable chasm between him and Haley, and though it’s not perfect, it’s better than it would ever be without you.

You always take a second to straighten his tie and ensure his suit jacket lays flat across his shoulders before leaving the plane, just like he always takes time to count the rounds in your magazines or tuck your tag back into your shirt collar.

He always feels so warm under your fond and attentive touch. With a little bit of alarm, he hopes you feel the same under his. Safe. Cared-for.

Loved.

Oh.

Oh no.

He knows the realization is clear on his face when Haley laughs again, surprising them both. She swipes at her eyes again, clearing any remaining tears. “You know, I can’t say I’m surprised you didn’t know, but it’s still funny, even with all this.” She shakes her head. “You haven’t changed much, have you?”

His face breaks out into a little smile as he looks back at her. “Oh, quit.”

“I’ll never quit giving you hell, as long as we live.” Haley reaches out, pushing gently against his shoulder. He takes the shove like a champ, even through the ache in his chest and abdomen, thankful she’s not treating him like he’s made of glass.

“Don’t I know it.”

They look at each other for a minute before Aaron sobers, the mirth evaporating between them. He already misses her. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for all of this. I’m hoping it’ll be...temporary.”

“I do have a life, Aaron. And Jack…” She sighs and her eyes fill with tears again.

“I know. I’m sorry. I wish there was another way to keep you safe, but -” He cuts himself off, knowing there’s nothing he can say.

She swallows again. She already misses him. “How am I supposed to keep him safe when there’s nobody I know to help me?”

He sighs, but speaks with conviction. “Haley, you’re strong. You lived with me in this job and you’ve practically raised Jack all by yourself. You’re a great mother.”

Haley’s actively crying now, trying to stem the tears with her fingers. It’s not working. After a moment, she collects herself. “Can you catch this man?”

“I will catch this man.”

+++

When she leaves Aaron’s room, you bring Jack to her. You take a moment to lightly fuss over them both.

Her blue eyes find yours. “Take care of him, please?”

You nod. “I will.”

“He needs you.”

She says it with a simple kind of conviction that makes your chest pull. You put a hand on her shoulder, trying to communicate everything you can’t say into your touch. “He needs you more.”

“No, he doesn’t.” Her lips twist in an odd sort of smile and she wraps you in a hug and kisses your cheek. “I’ll see you soon.”

You hold her tight, Jack trapped (and whining a little) between you. “See you soon, Hales.” You pull back, looking deeply into her eyes. “We’ll get him.”

The U.S. Marshals arrive, and you have to let go of each other. You press a kiss to Jack’s forehead and tell him you love him one more time, and wait until they’re in the car and out of sight before you break down.

You don’t know where he came from, but Derek wraps around you, catching you before your knees hit the ground. You don't know what you’re crying about, really.

It could be the overwhelming task of catching Foyet.

It could be Hotch in the room down the hall with nine stab wounds to his chest and abdomen.

It could be the indefinite absence of your dear friend and her son - a boy you love more than anyone except maybe -

Nope. Don’t go there. Not now.

Sobs wrack your chest, and your head hurts and your throat is sore by the time your body lets you breathe.

Derek’s there the whole time, rubbing your back and keeping your face hidden in the crook of his neck and shoulder. “It’s gonna be okay, kiddo. It’ll be okay. He’s okay. We’re gonna catch this son of a bitch.”

“It’s just so much, Derek.”

He sighs. “I know. I know.”

+++

“Did you hear what happened this morning?”

You’re woken by Dave’s voice, coming from the doorway. Cramped and crunched into the corner of an uncomfortable chair, you stretch and what feels like every joint in your body cracks.

“No.”

When did Aaron wake up?

You look over at him and he glances at you before returning to Dave, who’s leaning on the door frame.

“We had a situation. Unsub had already killed two people. Said he was gonna keep killing unless a man used his son as bait.”

“What happened?”

Good question.

Belatedly, you realize you’ve neglected your case duties all day in favor of holding vigil over Aaron’s bedside. The weirdest part about it? The rest of the team let you.

Why?

“We kept the boy safe. Worked the profile. It was a happy ending.”

That’s good, at least. One fucking happy ending today.

It’s like Dave’s reading your mind as he asks Aaron, “Do you know why I’m telling you this?”

“Yes.” Aaron’s gaze is impassive, but there are universes behind his eyes.

“No other group in the world could have pulled off what yours did in a matter of hours.” Dave checks in with you, and the corner of your mouth lifts.

Sorry.

He shakes his head just a little. No sweat, kid. You did your job.

“I appreciate what you’re trying to do, Dave, but -”

Dave cuts him off. “We’ll get Foyet.”

“I promised Haley I would get him. But the truth is, if he stops killing we have no way of tracking him. He stopped killing for ten years just for the pleasure of watching Shaunessy’s life fall apart.”

He’s crying again, and your heart breaks. You’re surprised Dave can’t hear it crack all the way across the room.

“What’s Jack going to remember about me in ten years?”

No.

“Hotch, look at me.” You rise from your chair and sit on the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb his position. He turns his head just so, his brown eyes locking onto yours. “We’ll get him. We will get him.”

We have to.

+++

tagging: @arganfics @quillvine @stxrryspencer @agenthotchner @hurricanejjareau @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts @shrimpyblog @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @good-heavens-chris-evans @davidrossi-ismydad @angelsbabey @writefasttalkevenfaster @venusbarnes @hotchsflower @ogmilkis @marvels-agents100 @hotchslatte @risenfox @mrs-dr-reid @captain-christopher-pike @dwellingsofrosie @pan-pride-12 @sunshine-em @word-scribbless @jdougl-love @sageellsworth05 @dreila03 @forgottenword @aaronhotchnerr @ssa-morgan @buckybau @sana-li @tegggeeee @abschaffer2 @ssacandice-ray @ellyhotchner @lotties-journey-abroad @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25 @laneygthememequeen @violentvulgarvolatile @mooneylupinblack @ssareidbby @violet-amxthyst @bwbatta @roses-and-grasses @lcvischmitt @capricorngf @missdowntonabbey @averyhotchner @mandylove1000 @cevanswhre @qvid-pro-qvo @jeor @spencers-hoodrat @infinity1321 @zizzlekwum @popped-weasels @evee87 @nuvoleincielo @this-broken-band-girl @reidtomestyles @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @winqhster @spencerelds

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #hotch #tali writes fanfiction #tali talks cm #a joyful future #shut up tali #a joyful future fanfic

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aurora-daily · 3 years

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AURORA’s Reddit Q&A (July 13th 2021)

Kmilalv: Hello aurora we love you, I'm @ aurora.s_love on instagram ✨✨🥰🥰🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️ Aurora: oh hellooo!!!! Exportmusic: Meep Aurora: meep < 3 Lisxnne: WELL HELLO AND THANKS FOR YOUR NEW SONG! 🙏🌟💕 Aurora: HELLO!! and thank you for being open to it 24681357900: Thank u for making music Aurora: thank you for inviting it into your heart Emergency-Club-7529: This is have some upper case , it's the real Aurora Aurora: yes!!! Helloooooo brunamombach: hello ✨🃏🧚🏻‍♂️🤘🍇🍄🧚🏻‍♀️ when are you coming do Brazil? so glad to see you here!!! Aurora: I think I will be coming to Brazil next year I love being in Brazil because I feel like it awakens my heart and soul to be there !! Brunamombach: if you were going to an souless island, what book would you bring with you? 🧚🏻‍♂️🍇🍄🧚🏻‍♀️🤘🃏 kisses from Brazil Aurora: I would either take: "The name of the wind" and "a Wise mans fear" or the LOTR trilogy. Or the "Mistborn" trilogy. or "warbreaker" or "the good omens" or "the ocean at the end of the lane" or "Anne of Green gables" or "The alchemist" or just all the books in the world oh no I cant decide

all DanParis: Hey have some karma you cool bean 🤌🏼 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿 Aurora: thank you < 3 Ok-Estimate8468: Tell us something you can tell us about the second track on the Cure For Me vinyl, “Potion For Love”. I'm very curious...

Aurora: its the song I decided for the B-side of the vinyl, and I will probably release it digitally one day too. Its the sister song to "exist for love" but from the other perspective. where love does not fill you up, but love has left a big hole within you < / 3 Ok-Estimate8468: Did you get a lot of unfollows and hate from bad people due to Cure For Me? Aurora: I got a little hate from homophobes, and also abelist, and racist comments from people claiming there was nothing wrong with their mindset. BUT it does not bother me. and I will never stop speaking up about the things I find important. because.. what else would our meaning on this earth be? if that makes sense. Some people have attacked me personally, but sadly mostly its people defending their own hateful ways of being. I cant even imagine how it really is to be a victim of racism or violent homophobia, so I feel like the least I can do is to try the best I can to show support. and speak up. and be an ally.

So a bit more short - yes, and I really dont mind!!!! unfollow me if you find speaking about equality and the right to live, and love and be loved unsettling <3 thank you for this question! Ok-Estimate8468: How was the process of creating the studio version of Cure For Me? I heard your first acoustic performance and saw that it's much smoother than the studio, so I was curious to see how you managed to create another even more amazing version. Aurora: Me and Magnus just played around, and we really tried to go with our emotions, and to be playful and to not think too much about what was "AURORA" or what was even...pretty! we just laughed! and danced! and did what felt lovely to us.

I think this is why the making of this song is one of my favourite memories, and also I think that is why it sounds so playful! because it is!! it was like playing a game. and I did also play alot around with symbolics in both the lyrics and the way this song is produced. it all has a meaning you see... but of course I will let you figure that out yourself!!

Pingouiin_: What's your favourite mountain around bergen ? Aurora: mine is Løvstakken!! and Magnus loves Ullrikken!! but important to NEVER stop a Norwegian person walking on the mountain. just say. a quick hello and wander off your own mind. become at one with nature Whoamiandallthat: Thank you for existing, I love your art and you inspire me so much 💙 You are one of my favorite artists 😊 And just the other day I found out that you are just two years older than me, and so successful... I'm wondering how it was for you to become so popular, did you feel like people thought you needed a cure? I'm also in the sphere of arts - filmmaking; but I feel like my films are not good enough... I have a YouTube channel with some videos - if you ever see this comment I would like for you to check it out 😊 Aurora: Ive felt through my life like something was a little off, ive never resonated that much with the people or the "system" around me! it didn't bother me so much even though I. was teased a lot for it ( so again I was very lucky) but I never felt like I understood the world and my place in it. or how I. could fit in, in this worlds society and with other people ! and becoming "famous" which I dont really feel that I am, but I guess that I am a little "known" (meep) was very strange, and very hard to handle at first. as impressions affect me a lot, and noises and people etc. but with time I got better at handling all these impressions, and avoid getting a.. sensory overload! and I am so happy now, that I can look directly at strangers and actually listen to them, and understand them, and even love them I guess what I am trying to say, that ive now understood that this is the very thing that connected me to all of you. and now I see my place here on this earth. and I see all of you, and you give my life so much meaning!! Lets_Fight_Dragons: Firstly I wanted to say I recently discovered your music and I love everything about it. I have two questions, I hope that’s ok 1. How do you start writing songs because I’m trying to get into songwriting and I’m not sure how you write such amazing songs 2. What’s your favourite song you’ve released? Aurora: 1. well I dont really know. ( I am sorry!!) but I feel like it started really natural for me.. I. kind of just sat down with my piano.. and then I started playing around with the Keyes, and I figured out I could make an endless amount of melodies by simply pressing the keys in a different order!! remember finding this extremely magical (I was around 6 years old then) and after a while I started adding lyrics, and I just spent time looking into myself, trying to figure out. - what do I want to say? what do. I need to hear in a song? what do the world need to hear in a song? and etc. I always think about songwriting as storytelling. and I always start out by figuring out what story I want to tell, what matter I want to dress, or what pleases me, or annoys me with the world, or what emotion I need help dealing with!! and then I write a song!!! and if you feel like its difficult to come up with melodies, I would recommend finding a song you like, and learn the chords of it (or find an instrumental version. online) and then you make your own melodies on top of that! many of the songs of the world share the same chords, and often the melodies on top is the thing separating them. music belongs to all of us, and its clear that every song in the world comes from the same magical source. 2. I think its the seed. or couples creatures!! or infections of a different kind!! tiffnoir: Our dear AURORA, your b-side A Potion For Love is helping me a lot (broken heart since a few days ago). I wanted to ask (if I can haha) if would it be included at the upcoming album, or maybe a relaxing, vintage video for it? Thanks for helping all of us with your music ^_^ Aurora: thank you som much for letting this song into your heart after writing exist for love, I figured that I should also make a sister-song that could belong for the ones with a broken heart as well it will not be on the album, but for you I will try to put it on the deluxe version FedahpWithThisWurld: Hello, Aurora! I'm a neurodivergent person and I have always felt a lot of shame over being the way I am, like I'm not good enough. Your music makes me feel better and it makes me feel that being me is okay. Thank you for that. I want to know how you manage to be so confident? Do you ever get nervous before a show? Aurora: hello!!!! I have had a lot of similar experiences with myself in this world too.. so I am very sad to hear you've lived your life with this feeling I think after a while I understood what makes me different also makes me special. and special is good. and if you think about it, special isn't even that different, because in one way or another we are all... unique. but of course, some people have had to fight their. way through life more than others.. making it less easy to learn how to love yourself. and accept yourself. I guess, now I've surrounded myself with good people who understand my quirks and sensitivities, people who give me time. and space to be me. I have also been lucky, because I have a family that have always encouraged me to be myself. and to love myself. and I guess that is why I am trying to convey to all of you now, because now we are like al little family. where being who you are - is cool. and you're cool. and were all cool. and I get nervous all the time, of all sorts of things! but I just accept that feeling as a part of being human. its uncomfortable yes, but I know at least it won't kill me! 3charmplease: What was it like recording for Frozen? Aurora: it was magical and also slightly scary. but it felt safe and good calling at the mountains. and I feel warm thinking about it. especially now. cause my father just walked over to me with five little strawberries in his hand. he gave them all to me. and they were so small, and sweet. im currently sitting in my childhood home, right next to the very piano where I wrote "runaway" and so many other songs. Tiny-Sink-2397: Boom shake shake shake the room Aurora: that was actually during the recording process of Cure For Me! Tiny-Sink-2397: I thought it was!! Seemed like an epic party Aurora: YES Joelynxyzs: what's your favorite movie ? Aurora: Practical magic BUT ALSO THESE: The LOTR triology ALL GHIBLI MOVIES avatar once upon a time in Hollywood Hannah the perfume fantastic MR. fox Star Wars: a new hope rouge one isle of dogs the hunchback of Notre dame! the arrival stypop: If you were to get the chance to work on a sequel to another Disney movie, which one would you want it to be? Aurora: since Disney owns Lucas films I would love to be a part of the Star Wars universe or to play either a magical fairy, witch mermaid, forest nymph, or a scary beast!! WE WO brisot: The masks in CFM remind me of theater plays, do you ever watch any and how much of an influence for you is the art of acting? Aurora: this era of my life is very influenced by the ancient times where theatre was all they had. no CGI or special effects etc. and I really wanted all these videos to feel very authentic, and down to earth! The shell in "exist for love" was handmade by someone, and I painted all the masks in "cure for me" myself! so I like it when it feels... human Clear-Champion-1833: i love you Aurora:

Jicuhrabbitkim: How do you like your fried eggs cook!! I like it when its very crispy!! Aurora: as long as its from a local farm that has free healthy chickens that walk about freely and eat good food I like my eggs crispy too. GhostReaper3: Hi I have a question as well: How do you keep positive? Many people including myself find this difficult sometimes so it would be good to hear your technique or way of keeping upbeat and positive! Also, thank you for sharing your music with us! Aurora: I know what you mean, i've struggled with it myself at times. but I guess I tried separating in my mind what I can do something about, and what I cant? if that makes sense?? we are all just here on this planet. and though we all seem to be going though the same things we still feel so alone, in our thoughts and in our minds. And I've been very aware that with music, and with this fandom we can all finally connect, and see each other, and know that we are not alone! and if there is one thing I love, it is to dance a little after I've cried. I think its important to. shake these emotions out of our body. like animals do! and then I made CURE FOR ME. because I thought about all the warriors out there feeling. a little crazy... after isolation! or after being depressed! and being l rocked in with their families that might not accept them for who they are.. and I thought I needed to make a song for us all, that felt a little uplifting. and uniting. just so we know where not alone, and just so we know that we are worthy.. of everything! and that we are worthy of celebrating ourselves!! ALWAYS! aniri003: Were the dancers freestyling in the last part of the video Aurora: YES! I told them to put their freak game on. And they were amazing. L_pls_use_revive: Hei Aurora! Apart from inspiring me with your music for emotional people, I also dicovered my love for Norway and the Norwegian language through you - now studying it in my second year at university. Tusen, tusen takk! I want to visit soon when traveling is safe - So which place should I not miss out on? Have a great life! Aurora: I think the whole of Norway is worth visiting! there are so many beautiful places. and beautiful people! I would ofc. recommend Bergen! (haha!) but also places like Tromsø, Trondheim, Stavanger, lofted and The Geirangerfjord and the Northwest!!! HAHA KakSetoKaiba: How's the progress of the album that you've been preparing which will be released after your death? Aurora: its going well, I take one song for every chapter and I put it on my death album instead of the album I'm making its going well. and im excited about it! maria_fernandez_: This is not a question but I just wanted to tell you that discovering you and your music has been the best thing that ever happened to me. What your music makes me feel cannot be described in words. I love you so much. Greetings from Spain!! Aurora: thank you!!! applepieaurora: Whats your favorite pie? 🐉 Aurora: apple pie and blueberry pie!! Ok-Potato7244: Thanks for sharing your time ... a warrior here to welcome you...Have some tea...And i don't need a cure for disliking keeping animals in cages...Especially birds...💚... Aurora: thank you pekaraseva: what do you feel when you perform Ioadk or Adkoh for people? Aurora: I feel so full of emotion and love and despair I could almost explode and its wonderful. I also feel insanely connected to the audience when I sing these songs.. I. think. its because they are such important pieces of my soul targaryenblood02: omg what do you think cure for me would smell like? 🐛 Aurora: like something Brazilian! like Asai! or caipirinha! or Brigadeiro!

sproutingephemeral: Hello Aurora, Thanks for your new song, I've gotten quite addicted to it😊 I have a question that might be a bit difficult to answer. I am a Warrior from the U.S. currently without a clue of where I should be and what I should be doing. I'm done with school, and in the process of moving to a new town with my parents. I'm applying for jobs, but I feel like I can't find my reason for being in a smaller area with not many people my age. I feel like my parents are trying to mold me into a certain person, which doesn't feel authentic to me. I probably should be making more of my own decisions at my age, but I'm a bit scared and confused, if what I think is deemed too unrealistic or out of line with their expectations for me (like a childhood dream?). I tried talking to them about it, to little success. Is there something inherently wrong with me? Or am I just being spoiled or lazy? I read about how you were initially opposed to starting your career until your mother convinced you to change your mind. How do you know whether or not to trust in your parents' plans for you? On a lighter note, do you prefer cookies that are more soft (chewy) or hard (crumbly)? I don't need a cure for...my autism, and tendency to talk regularly to my deceased cat at his grave (??)😿👼 Looking forward to seeing you in New York! Take care❤❤ Aurora: you should ALWAYS. only do what feels right for you. this world is very absurd, and people tend to think they know what is meaningful and what is important. but we all know, money and success isn't important beyond what you need to simply survive. this one life is yours. and you should be just who you want. and do what feels right for you. because its yours. its only yours. drink tea. work hard. be lazy. dance. be shy. laugh, cry. drink wine and eat good bread. be good. fight for something you care about. and either live for your work, or work a little and then just... live. get a garden, grow tomatoes, get a cat. or a dog. or a parrot. life can be so random, and it can be both so little, and so large at the same time. some days were meant to TAKE chances, and live. and sometimes were just meant to exist. and do nothing. you should never feel guilty for not "being enough" because you are enough. just who you are. just how you are. is enough. good luck on your strange journey my warrior, maybe our paths crosses and maybe they dont. but know, when you walk out of your door, that anything can happen! and the whole world is yours. Hippolyte_gray: is the name of the next album hidden in your previous songs ? Aurora: mayyyyyybeeeeeeeee rashadalt: what do you think about your fans who are racist/homophobic etc.? Aurora: I feel sorry for them. because I know I cant be easy l living a life so full of hate. and even spending your precious. time on this world bringing other people down. and I know how easy it is for people to be driven by fear, and how difficult. it can be to have an original meaning and stand up for what you really mean. so I dont judge them, or hate them,

but I do feel sorry for them. and I am also very disappointed in them. because its such a. waste of human potential to live your life in the paths of hatred.

but as long as we face hate with love, we will eventually win. when we show them. we are not the enemy, just people trying to make a better world, I think, and I hope that eventually we can all agree that being able to live, and being able to love is a human right. Brivera726: I noticed you said you would bring LOTR trilogy with you to an island- I’m reading them for the fourth time right now I feel like if Galadriel sing songs it would sound like you! Anyway I really like your art so yah just keep doing u- love from PFC Rivera, USMC Aurora: this is then est thing ive ever read thank you Aurora: I am. sorry people, but my time here (for tonight) is up </3 but I will probably be back looking at your questions and thoughts because I did really. enjoy this. and I. love you all so. much.

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#aurora #aurora aksnes #q&a #interviews #potion for love #cure for me #into the unknown #collaborations #recommendations #ioadk song #adkoh #new album #future album #magnus

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badwolf-winchester · 3 years

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Ancient Bloodlines

Pairing: Loki x Emy Nightstar (OC)

OC Summary: Emy is the newest Avenger. She specializes in Magic and close range attacks/ weapons. Her heritage is unknown to her as she was left at an orphanage door step when she was a young girl with only the memory of her name. She goes by her nickname Emy but has never told anyone her full name as its a reminder of her being abandoned. Emy can see through any illusion and Magic no matter how powerful they are or how strong the magic is and is unaware of this. Her powers include Telekinesis, Elemental Control, True Sight (as stated above) Enhanced healing and Shifting (she wont discover this till much later in the story). She loves to read, listen to music, play violin, sing, and draw.

Story Info: Takes place after infinity wars. Tony and Natasha are alive Steven comes back from the future after giving back the infinity stones. Vision is alive and living with Wanda in the tower. Thor and Loki live in the tower with the rest of the Avengers and for the sake of the story Himedall is alive and living with the rest of the Asgardians on earth in New Asgard (you will find out why later)

One last thing: Please do not repost my work on any other site or social media, however reblogging on here is fine. I work hard on all of my fanfics and it’s disappointing when people take my work as their own. I am the creater of all my OCs such as Sora Nightstar, Emy Nightstar, and Lithium Nightstar. My inbox is open for any and all requests as i am a multi fandom writer. Let me know how you like the story and i will do my best to answer any and all questions. As always i encourage any and all feedback as it helps with my writing. I hope you all like it!

The Beginning

They say that your parents are there to teach you the rules of the world, but what happens when you have no parents? Who will teach you then? The world is cruel but people are crueler. Ive learned this first hand when the person i trusted most in this world left me on the door step of the St. Trinity’s Orphanage. I was 9 when my mother told me she didn’t want me anymore and i guess I couldn’t really blame her. I mean who could love someone who couldn’t control the powers that grew with each passing year. Someone who started fires out of thin air when they had nightmares, conjured whirlwinds when startled, unfurled earthquakes when angered, spring forth rain showers when sad, and levitate objects when riddled with anxiety. I will never forget that day for its seared into my mind like its own person brand echoing with every beat of my heart. A monster thats what she called me, her own flesh and blood was a monster in her eyes, and i could see the relief when she ran from the solid oak door finally rid of the burden she had to put up with throughout the years. An abomination she cried as she reached the cobblestone sidewalk eager to be rid of me and by the pace she was going at i could tell she had more spring in her step than on the walk over from the bus we exited from. Unnatural she bellowed as she disappeared around the corner a ghost of a smile springing from her lips as she disappeared. These where the last words i would ever hear from my mother, if thats what you would call her.

Emy’s POV

Tonight was just like any other. Crisp cold air submerged the city in a blanket of dark and silence while it settled into your bones. I never minded the cold in fact I welcomed it, it reminded me of the cabin i found one year after running away from one of the many abusive foster homes i was forced to stay with. I’ll admit it was one of the times I was able to avoid the social workers for longer than a week and the happiest I had ever been in my life up until i was captured by Hydra. When I had a flair up with my powers, which usually ended up being fire, i would immediately get sent back to St. Trinity’s but this time i ran before they had the chance to toss me aside. The staff there used to place bets on how long i would stay with a family, they would joke saying i was cursed or jinxed but i knew the truth, no one wanted me. Once the parents found out about my abilities I was sent packing. I was labeled as a flight risk and a danger to others which only deepened my anti socialism.

Walking through the streets of New York i pull my dark purple jacket on and my dark brown hair in a pony tail as I get closer to my destination. Because i don’t feel the effects of the cold weather Tony, being such the dad figure he is, has made it his priority to make sure i still wear one just incase so here i was walking home in black ripped up jeans, a black v neck T-shirt, black and purple checkered vans and a light weight dark purple jacket. With my headphones in my ears and “I like it heavy” by Halestorm blasting I make my way to the place i call home, Stark Tower. Walking through the front doors i make my way past the receptionist who always greets me with a bright smile. As I walk towards the elevator I give her a small smile back and a head nod. After entering the elevator and pressing the button for the penthouse I start to reflect on how i got here.

By the time i was 15 Hydra found me in that cabin and took me away. I went from hopping from family to family to being used as a science experiment, constantly being poked and prodded just so they could get a reaction out of me. As a child my powers where very unstable mostly flaring up with my emotions, its no wonder that Hydra caught wind of me its not like i was hiding it very well or more so that i couldn’t hide it. They tried to wipe my memory to gain control of me “a blank slate” is what they wanted, but for some reason, they failed as I wasn’t susceptible to their conditioning methods no matter how much time i spent in the chair. However, I could tell they were scared of me I could see it in their eyes. This didn’t last long though as they used what they called their perfect weapon code name Winter Soldier to beat me into submission. After that first meeting that left me with a broken arm and a fractured ankle i started to obey, since then Ive met the Soldier a couple of times but if he remembers me he dosent let on and I dont blame him, he has been in that chair so many times Im genuinely surprised he can even remember how to walk. He is stronger than the others as most of the other test subjects had turned to vegetables after the 4th mind wipe, he was on his 10th the last time i saw him with Hydra.

Another test was done on me and this one was different. They used a teseract? If thats what they called it I can’t be sure nor did I care all I could feel was pain like as if someone injected lava in my veins. After they injected me I started screaming after a while I couldn’t even hear myself anymore, my throat was so sore and horse from the constant roar of my agony I just wanted it to end. How long was I out for? Seconds? Minutes? Hours? Days? Years? They didn’t keep clocks there or at least not in the dungeon like cell they had me in. When the fire faded i was left with this numbness and after further tests I realized that I was immune to fire. I can literally stick my hand in fire and i will be left untouched and unscorched. They did the same test with freezing temperatures to see if they could subdue me at least in some way. I must have been out longer than just a couple of days as during the tests i didn’t recognize any of the Doctors. In that moment I realized something, if they were trying to contain me then something must have happened to the soldier. It was time to plan my escape.

Back in my cell i could hear footsteps approaching me and then stop short. One of the scientists frantically trying to talk some sense into someone just out of my line of sight. “She is immune to anything we throw at her sir. We have done every test we could there is nothing left for us to do.” One of the goons in a lab coat stated to what i assumed is a higher up. “Bolden If her powers keep growing at the rate they are it could be days in which she will be unstoppable and with the soldier gone we dont have anything that can keep her in line. She broke Mandy and Rays arms the last time we tested her. She is getting too strong.” Brining a hand up to his chin the higher up Bolden stepped out of the shadows and looked at me with deep interest before he turned to looked at the man and scoffed. As he walked away i felt a cold chill ran down my back as I anticipated what was to become of me; I knew it was nothing good i had already broken their rules. His next words only confirmed what I feared. “ Its simple. Break her spirit or kill her Doctor. And when i say break her i mean in anyway means necessary.” His sadistic laugh is the last thing i remember before everything went black.

Its been 2 years since i have escaped and now I’m living in the avengers tower. I don’t remember what happened after that night in my cell its all a blur of red, screams, and gunshots. When i woke up next i was in a 6ft crater where I was being held captive without a scratch on me. Trees were uprooted and fallen over as if a bomb went off. Luckily the Avengers showed up not long after me waking up and took me to their base where i met Directer Fury. With his permission and 24/7 surveillance provided by Tony Stark via FRIDAY and training sessions to get my powers under control i was allowed to join the Avengers and fight for good. Little did i know that by agreeing to this I would end up in the path of a certain God or Gods who were also taking residence at the tower.

With the sound of a *ding* the elevator shook me out of my mind and back to the present. As i exited the elevator I pulled my head phones out of my ears and was instantly met with the sound of Tony losing his mind. “Where did she go? She knows she can’t be out this late. She could be taken again! Its 5 minutes past her curfew!” Rolling my eyes I roll my headphones up and shove them in my pocket and round the corner. “Tony it takes 5 minutes to get from the lobby to the penthouse calm down. I bet she will walk through that door anytime now.” Came the sweet voice of reason of none other than Pepper Potts. “I’m Home.” I said in a deadpan voice as i walked by the couple only for Tony to stand up and intercept me by placing a hand on my upper arm. “Where did you go and why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?” I looked at him and raised an eyebrow pushing his hand off me. “Tony its Wednesday. I have training with Strange on Wednesdays and I had Friday alert you as I was leaving but you were in the lab with Bruce.” Not sure what to say next Tony mumbled a small apology. “Sorry I was just worried about you. I know you are grown enough to make your own choices as you are 25 but I just want to make sure you are safe. How was the training with The Wizard?” Sighing and shaking my head just wanting to go the library and read I decided to just let it go. “Strange is a hard ass that much you already know. It wasnt bad actually I think I’m warming up to him. I didn’t spontaneously throw him to the wall when he snuck up behind me as i was going over the ancient texts so i call that improvement.” I said sheepishly while side stepping around him. “I’m gonna go to the library now and grab some light reading before bed you guys have a good night.” With out waiting for a response I quickly made my way towards my new destination only to have Tony saying something about guests in the house but I ignored him.

Pushing open the library door I make my way to the poetry section to grab my usual copy of Edgar Allen Poe that I read before bed. As my had reached for the spot i knew i put the book in i find that its not there. “Wait what? Where is my book? I know I put it back here before I left for training so where did it go?” Frustrated I stomp back over to the entrance and rip open the door ready to go on a murder spree while shouting down the hallway. “CLINT! You better give me back my night time book or I’m breaking all your arrows again! No one reads in this tower but me! How stupid do you think I am!?” Straining my ears I listen for any type of movement but was met with dead silence. After a minute I finally hear movement through the vents coming from the west part of the tower and I take off sprinting. Sliding around a corner I barely miss colliding with Steve and Bucky who look like they were on their way back from a mission. Offering a quick apology before I continue my pursuit I hear Steve yell “Hey! No running in the tower!” Not faltering in my hot pursuit of the Hawk thief I continue to zip through the tower ignoring the Captains words until i was almost to the vent that lead to the 2 level family room. Using the railing for the steps leading down to the family area to give me more height i jumped as close to the vent as possible and conjured my signature Scythe to slice through it while twisting in the air kicking the vent free and off its track. A shocked and terrified scream resonates from the vent as the culprit falls to the ground with a thud and a grunt. I landed in a crouched position and slowly straightened to my full hight. “What the hell Emy?! When did you learn to do that?!” Clint yells as he sits up rubbing his left shoulder that he landed on. I started stalking towards him with the blade of my scythe scrapping across the ground as i went while giving him a death glare. “Give me back my book Barton.” At the mention of his last name his head snapped up to me fear replacing the pain from his fall. “Oh shit last name not good.” Scrambling up on his feet he turns and runs towards the common room that connects to the elevator with me hot on his tail and my scythe trailing behind me in my right hand.

“Shit shit shit shit shit shit SHIT!!” He yells as he makes it fully to the room only to fling forward as i jump and kick his back tired of all the running. Twirling my weapon around I place it at his neck sneering at him. “I will not ask you again.” I said placing pressure on his neck with my blade. Sensing a fast moving object coming from my left from the kitchen I move my head back 3 inches as what looked like a hammer flew by me embedding itself in the wall. Turning my head slowly in the direction of the flying object, I confirmed it was indeed a hammer that was thrown at me. Irritation flared through me as i released Clint from the end of my scythe and turned fully to the kitchen to face my attacker. There stood 2 men that i did not recognize, one tall oak of a man with blond short hair, blue eyes and tan skin in blue jeans, a red T-shirt ,and grey jacket. the other shorter man made me stare at him and faultier for a second as he was so different from anyone i have ever seen, dark blue skin covered his entire body with darker almost black symbols and piercing red eyes, long black hair with black jeans, a green dress shirt and black jacket. Tearing my gaze away from his own curious one i looked between both men before i clenched my jaw letting my irritation settle back in. “Which one of you threw that hammer.” I said venom dripping with every word. “Whoa its ok Emy thats just Thor and Loki they are the asgardian Gods that live here in the tower part time when they are not in Norway.” Clint said standing up quickly. Not moving from my position i narrowed my eyes and flicked them over in Clint’s direction. The ground started to shake as my irritation and annoyance grew to anger remembering what i was doing before being interrupted by the Gods. Throwing his hands up in surrender he then quickly reached into his back pocket and retrieved my book. “Ok ok dont blow a fuse Em.” He said while tossing me my possession stopping me from causing an earthquake. Catching it in the air with my left had I inspected the book to make sure it wasn’t damaged before I let go of my scythe, with a wave of my hand it disappeared back to the pocket dimension I keep it in then looked back at Clint as the tremors stopped. “Touch my things again and i will be wearing your guts like my mom’s pashmina.” I said to the thief before walking out of the room and disappeared down the hallway not giving the Gods a second glance. As I entered my room i could hear a silky voice ring out from the kitchen. “Well isnt she interesting.”

Part 2 coming soon

@nickkie1129

#loki x y/n #loki odinson #loki series #loki #loki x reader #loki x you #loki (marvel)#loki laufeyson #marvel #avengers x reader #the avengers #clint barton #tony stark #doctor strange #thor odinson #steve rogers #bucky barns #pepper potts

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quillandink333 · 3 years

Text

Scarlet Carnations ~ Part VII

BotW Link X Zelda ~ Detective AU

Rating: T

Word Count: 4k

WARNINGS: death, murder, loss, trauma, blood and gore, terrorism, organized crime, self-harm

Summary: Inspector Zelda Hyrule, assisted by the faithful Constable Link Fyori, is infamous for cracking the most confounding of cases in a town dominated by crime. Her latest assignment is to solve the murder of her own godmother, Impa Sheikah, the late CEO of Sheikah Tech. Incorporated, while staying under the radar of the dreaded Yiga organization.

Part I • Part II • Part III • Part IV • Part V • Part VI • Part VII • Epilogue • Masterlist

It took me far too long to recover from the discovery I’d made deep beneath the foundation of the Sheikah estate. Who knew how many more had been forced to suffer at the hands of the Yiga over the course of that period? It was high time to end this era of tyranny and grief, and to have anyone but myself take the lead was not an option. Whatever truth was waiting for me at the end of all this, so be it. I had to see it with my own two eyes. I had to see her.

To help set my plan into motion, the only person I had left to turn to was Prosecutor Sigatur, and though she had once held my mother in the utmost respect, she had benevolently volunteered to present my findings to the courts in my stead. As confident as I was in my argument and as desperately as I desired to be there for Link, I couldn’t quite stomach the thought of taking the stand and exposing myself to the discrimination of the public eye again.

And so, as the proceedings went on for the following few days, I spent my time back at the apartment, making myself useful by poring through my mountainous collection of data on the eighteen-year-old incident that I’d amassed over the years and had been keeping in my office until now. Now that I had been let go, my flat was practically overflowing with newspaper clippings, copies of investigation reports, and whatever else not. Every time I would open the door upon arriving home, I’d get hit in the face with the musty stench of dust and old magazines that I had nowhere to properly put away.

Though my collection was indeed vast, it was far more so in physical volume than in information. Most of the documents in it were no more than different accounts of the same basic facts. All the useful info I could glean was that the fire at City Hall had taken the lives of most, if not all, administrative officials who had been there working at the time, and those members of council who may or may not have been killed had never been seen nor heard from again, their bodies left for ash. And according to my sources, Mayor Hyrule had been amongst them.

There was a certain line in her letter to Auntie Impa that had tipped me off to her current whereabouts. “...I have been keeping watch over you from the ashes of the afterlife...” The imagery laced so intricately into those words had struck a nerve. There was only one place in this town that both would’ve been of any significance to her and was covered in ash: the crumbling ruins where the former City Hall had once stood.

Having reached the point of culmination in my plotting, I invited the newly reinstated Constable Fyori over for tea. The two of us meeting in my office would have been preferable, but we’d just have to make do with this for the time being.

“If my hypothesis is correct, then I am about to enter the belly of the beast,” I deliberated. Seated on my settee and restlessly tapping the floor with his heel, Link listened with both eyes and ears as I paced about the room. “Ideally, I’d have some sort of backup at my disposal. Maybe I could phone Urbosa and ask her to lend me a hand, just once more...”

“If I may,” he butted in, “why are you speaking as though you’ll be on your own?”

I hadn’t been nearly as prepared as I probably should have been for such a question. “Well...” I stammered, forcing the shame of admitting that I was too afraid to confront my own mother alone down my throat, “would you happen to know someone who’d be willing to accompany me?”

His mouth gaped at my answer. Then jutting his neck out and laying his palms across his chest, he stood up. “Me!”

I took a step back. “Link, what are you talking about?” If something happened to him as a result of this, which was more likely to occur than not, then his last moments would surely be filled with nothing but fear and regret. Not to mention, I would never forgive myself. “I really shouldn’t have to remind you. She’s the reason your family—”

“I know,” he snapped. His eyes were burning a hole straight through me. It was almost frightening. “Believe me, I’m not about to go forgetting it again any time soon.”

“Then why...?” I half-whispered in the most deathly serious tone I could muster.

“Because I’m tired of hiding.”

A harsh breeze rattled the blinds against the window frame. It took me by surprise, but he wasn’t phased by it in the least.

“I’m tired of turning a blind eye and acting like none of the horrible things she’s done ever happened.” I tried to think of a snappy rebuttal, but none came to mind. He’d said these words as though they’d been burning on the tip of his tongue for an untold number of days. He’d had a lot of time to reflect between his false conviction and his acquittal, so it seemed. He and I were of the same mind, of course, but... “And, because...” He stopped himself. Some of the fire in his gaze had gone out in smoke. I got my hopes up when he broke eye contact for a moment or two, and I could all but sense the resolve in him dying, just a little bit.

But then, emitting a slight sound of frustration, he stepped closer. His hands gripped my shoulders, and he pulled me in with the force of a hurricane.

When his lips made impact with mine, my eyes flew open.

He kissed me with what could only be described as reckless abandon. His mouth scraped across my own, and I could feel every ounce of his aggravation in the way his fingertips bit down on my skin alone. It was rough and clumsy and pressed, as if this were sincerely the last and only chance he would ever have.

All of a sudden, we were seventeen again, and standing in the middle of our secondary school’s greenhouse. The scent of dust was replaced with that of lush flora on all sides of us, and sunlight shining in from above caressed the top of my head with its warmth. This was the very scene that I’d used to daydream about time and time again, wasting more hours of each day than I’d have liked to admit at the time.

Now his fingers clung to the corners of my face like I was made of paper, his lips brushing mine almost imperceptibly as his bated breath fanned out against them. When my eyes opened and met with his, his complexion had turned a delicate rouge, and his faultless aquamarines had been clouded over by doubt. In that moment, all I could think to do was to make that doubt vanish. So I ignored the distant sense of guilt that yet lingered and seized the navy blue tie around his neck. Our forms collided, and a sigh like trees swaying at the mercy of a light breeze in summer grazed my cheek.

With Ms. Sigatur’s aid, the constabulary had been more than willing to cooperate and construct a perimeter of officers around the old City Hall’s charred skeleton. Just the fact that the vicinity wasn’t littered in tarps and rubbish and other evidence of homelessness was proof enough of my theory. And yet, the way the wind howled and that the only signs of life were the crows circling up above filled the pit of my stomach with an unease that I could not ignore.

“You know what to do as soon as you sense any sign of danger, I trust?” Urbosa had both her hands planted firmly on my shoulders, bending down to meet my gaze with that same, old look of worry.

I gave a firm nod, never breaking eye contact. “Of course.”

“And you have Fyori and the others looking out for you, so don’t be afraid to call for them if—”

“I’ll be fine, Urbosa. I—”

“No, you will not.”

All I wanted was to get this over with, but she just had to go and remind me of the risks. No matter what I wished for, it wouldn’t change the fact that this was, in all likelihood, a suicide mission. Which was why I’d been so adamant in refusing to allow Link to come along initially.

Said constable was watching the two of us out of the corner of his eye, ever the vigilante as he stood facing the stronghold a mere half dozen paces away.

I heaved a constricted sigh and looked the prosecutor earnestly in the eye. With a deep breath, “I understand how worried you are for me, but please, don’t try to stop me. I’m aware of the risk and I’m prepared to face the consequences. I wouldn’t be doing this if I weren’t confident in my ability to succeed.”

Her stance softened, if only just slightly. “If Hilda weren’t still alive, her spirit would haunt me for letting any harm come to you.”

“But that won’t happen, because she is alive and she would never try to hurt me.” This much I was certain of, for if she had harboured any such intentions, she would have acted on them already, with how the Organization typically operated.

Urbosa’s lips tightened, and the out of place worry lines permeating her expression faded incrementally. She cast her gaze toward my stubborn guardian in silence, and he offered her a calm, yet resolute, nod of the head.

After a quiet embrace that seemed to go on endlessly, she sent me on my way. I looked over my shoulder as she grew smaller and smaller, then turned my focus ahead of me.

Staring up at the towering columns before me, I fell into an unnatural combination of wonder, nostalgia, and loss. (For whom or what was I still mourning? At this point, I didn’t even know the answer to that.) For the most part, the only parts of the building left standing were those invulnerable to fire, and even a great portion of that had fallen victim to weathering and decay over the years. Many of the brick walls had crumbled, leaving little in the way of places to hide a single person, let alone an entire crime syndicate.

The wind was unrelenting as it whipped and thrashed my hair about my face. Yet somehow, even as we drew nearer, the air remained as deathly still as ever.

As we finally came upon the scorched remnants of the main entrance, a gust from the north sent a whirlwind of ash in my direction. My arms rose to shield my face in the nick of time.

After taking a moment to collect myself, I took my first step since childhood into the domain of my mother’s workplace. Surely when I crossed that threshold, I’d thought, surely that was when havoc would finally be wrought upon us. But I was met yet again with stillness. Was nothing but my own breathing able to break this seemingly impenetrable silence?

Just then, my question was answered.

I felt my soul jump out of the confines of my body when the caw of a crow reverberated throughout the government building. If my heart hadn’t been pounding hard enough already...

I jumped again seconds later, though not nearly to the extent at which I just had, when Link’s hand came to weave itself between my fingers. We locked eyes, and he gave me the kindest of smiles. It made me want to melt right into his arms and to never let go, lest I lose him a third, and very likely final, time.

But a clearing of the throat from one of the other nearby constables reminded me of the ever present need to stay alert.

I elected to have the group split into two: one to search the ground floor of the ruins and one to search the upper floor. It was hard to say for certain how stable they were, but the stairways connecting the two stories were still almost fully intact. The upper floor itself, however, was another matter. Though its foundation hadn’t been constructed from any organic material, much of its structural integrity seemed to have been lost. About a third of it had broken off and landed square in the middle of the ground floor, leaving a vast chasm between the two sections of the upper floor that remained. The police had come prepared and equipped for the traversal of rough and uneven terrain, though there was still the danger of stray pieces of rubble raining down onto our heads from above.

I adjusted the strap of my helmet, which was beginning to chafe at the skin underneath my chin, before making my way around the monstrous hunk of brick flooring lying along the length of the grand foyer. Beyond that, as I’d remembered correctly, was the hallway leading to where her office had once been. But the scene I would discover there was a far cry from what I recalled.

What I found there wasn’t unlike what we’d found in the other offices up until now. Any furniture that had once filled the space had been destroyed. I could only just make out the contorted pieces of an old, blackened writing desk, its legs collapsed and the only thing relaying the tale of its former shape being the lamp lying shattered beside it. This I’d only noticed after hearing the crackling of shattered glass underfoot.

A clipped, nasal exhale sounded from behind me, where Link was taking in the scene with an expression similar to my own set into his face. He’d been clinging to my side since we’d begun searching, whether out of a desire to protect or to be protected, I did not know. A question rang in my ears that he’d posed to me during our meeting at my flat. “What will you do once you find her?” It was a simple question, one that I reasonably should have been able to answer, but the only one that came to mind would have sounded beyond foolish if said aloud. In the midst of such an era of power, what crime boss in their right mind would be swayed by a meagre plea to stop? But if not try to reason with her, there wouldn’t be many other options at my disposal.

This supposition only applied given that my mother would be found. My inspections so far had yielded no signs of Yiga activity, or for that matter, any activity whatsoever. Everything here seemed to have been here since the very incident that had levelled the place. In a way, this only added onto my already existing restlessness. The longer this search went on in vain, the less likely we were to find anything of worth, and the more likely it was for this endeavour to end in yet another failure. The moment I would finally give into my fear and call off the mission was steadily approaching.

A shadow flickered in my peripheral vision, followed by auditory pandemonium.

I just barely withheld my yelp. Link had turned toward the source of the sound with his hand on his holster.

But it had only been a piece of debris coming down from the floor above. I sighed furtively.

Between how Link’s shoulders had tensed up to meet his ears and the way his hand twitched as he lowered it from his hip, it was plain to see that I wasn’t the only one who was shaken up.

There was one more area of the ground floor that I had left to search: the conference hall. If the Yiga were anywhere to be found across these vast burial grounds, it was there.

What was left of the wood flooring creaked underfoot at a much greater volume than I’d been expecting. The ceiling, though just as high as that of the rest of this floor, somehow felt even loftier. Out of all the rooms we’d visited, this one was the most intact. Half of the risers, though scorched, were otherwise undamaged, and even the podium was still standing tall. But of course, being more intact meant giving sharpshooters more places to hide. One misstep and—

Crack

The floor fell out from beneath me. I let out a shriek, feeling the realm of death open its big, black maw and swallow me whole.

Then I landed with a calamitus crash.

If I hadn’t managed to curl my limbs around myself in time, the concrete flooring I seemed to have landed on surely would’ve cracked my head open, or given me a severe concussion at the very least. My whole body ached from the impact, and it felt as though I may have sprained my ankle, for when I tried to stand, it throbbed in the most violent pain I had ever experienced. I fell to my hands and knees, reeling.

The spot in the floor that I’d placed my weight on must have lost much of its hardiness to the fire. In all the times I’d been here as a little girl, it had never once occurred to me that this place had housed a basement.

“Zelda...!”

I looked up to see Link peering down from the hole in the ceiling that I’d made, his expression poised with worry. My body, covered in scrapes and bruises, cringed when I realized he had borne witness to that pathetic spectacle, making the pain tenfold.

“I’m fine,” I whisper-shouted up toward the only source of light in the room, and some of the fear in his face relaxed. He glanced around him, then looked back down in my direction before standing up and disappearing.

I could only hope he’d find his way down sooner rather than later. In the meantime, I shifted into a position I hoped I’d have more luck rising back to standing from, and I did. Though, maimed as I was, I’d still have to find some way to take some of the weight off my right foot.

The first thing I latched onto was rusty and sharp. I winced and pulled my hand back, looking blindly to see if my palm was bleeding or not.

As my eyes adjusted, I was relieved to see that the cut had only just grazed the surface of my skin. I scanned the room, seeing that the thing I’d touched was a piece of an old oil drum. In fact, the room was full of metal scraps resembling it.

A vision flashed before my eyes. Of City Hall being engulfed in flame within seconds, and the criminal mastermind hiding the evidence in a cellar, where no one would ever find it until the better part of two decades later.

The rest of the basement was still a cluttered mess, but somehow it felt a great deal more lived-in than what I’d seen up until this point. There wasn’t a soul to be found in any of the windowless rooms I came across, but the few things I found lying around with the help of my pocket torch, like an unopened pack of cigarettes and a deck of cards left strewn across a small table, gave me the distinct impression that I wasn’t alone. The numerous corners provided by old, metal bookshelves and file cabinets did little to slow my racing heart.

Eventually, I came upon an open doorway, beside which a small sign on the wall read, “Archive A.” Beyond the barrier, unlike the pitch darkness I’d been wandering through for I’d long lost count of just how long, a few threads of light were trickling in from above, presumably through a crack in the flooring above that I’d failed to notice before.

I stepped through the doorway, turned to face the yawning expanse of the former archive, and saw her. Dressed in pale white and standing radiantly in the center of the room.

My mother. The very image of my ever vivid memory of her was right there.

My feet carried me, with newfound purpose and with minds of their own, toward her. I wanted to reach out and feel her next to me. I wanted to ascertain that she was truly there and that I hadn’t actually hit my head and wasn’t now seeing things. I wanted to run at her, arms outstretched, more than anything in the world.

But then my ankle throbbed violently in protest, and my reason for being here came back to me at full force. I swallowed down my longing and stopped in my tracks. Her smile—that warm, glowing, congratulatory smile that held all the hope and light of the sun within its corners—wasn’t making this any less difficult, however. I was reminded of the simpler times, when at the end of each day, there was someone back at home waiting to hold me close and make all my worries melt away.

She held her arms out to me in a gesture that made my eyes well up with the tears of a child. It felt unspeakably wrong, but for what reason I could no longer place. Why shouldn’t I? What harm could it possibly do? It was only natural to want to wrap my arms around her as tightly as I was able, and to never let go again, wasn’t it?

A gunshot ripped through the peace.

Her face turned still as stone. Square between her harmless eyes had appeared an inky black-red orifice—an exit wound—from which a spray of crimson had decorated her visage.

Time slowed almost to a stop as Mother careened forward and fell flat onto the cold, hard floor. A hollow thump echoed throughout the empty space.

Before I’d had time to react, I looked up and met eyes with a painfully familiar pair of icy azures, which thawed in an instant as the owner lowered his weapon. I glanced down at the body, which had landed just two or three paces in front of me, then back at him. Then my own body started to shake.

No matter how I tried, I couldn’t control the violent tremors that had taken hold of me. My knees hit the floor, my bad ankle being wrenched one way in the process. This tore a scream from the depths of my lungs as the tears began waterfalling down in spiteful defiance against my will. I couldn’t bare to look at her—lithe arms strewn out limply at her sides and golden hair scattered in every direction—so I hid like the coward I was behind my stinging palms.

A metallic clack, followed by footsteps pounding the cement one after another as they neared. When his arms cradled my head into the shelter of his chest, I didn’t stop him. Nor did I when his hand began its gentle stroking up and down the curve of my back. He could have said something, anything, but he refrained. Instead, the silence surrounding my cries did nothing but amplify them.

A resounding clatter broke the air.

My vision was fogged up like a window pane in the dead of winter, but as I blinked away the tears, I began to make out the shape of an assault rifle lying on the concrete, at the feet of a person who hadn’t been there before and whose face I was unable to make out from this distance. In the figure’s hand was a bone-white mask, which they turned over in their grasp before dropping it onto the floor as well. It shattered upon landing.

In every corner, assassins were emerging from the shadows, each one of them laying down their weapons and turning to face the cooling corpse resting at the axis point of it all. Somehow, the room seemed even more devoid of daylight than ever before.

#my writing #fanfic #botw #zelink #botw zelink #zelink botw #link x zelda #zelda x link #botw link x zelda #botw zelda x link #zelink fanfic #zelink fic #zelink ff #zelda pov #detective au

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carcinized · 3 years

Note

*grabby hands* animatic ideas do tell :D

well the entire superbloom album is literally dream smp animatics to me... im sorry mandy you wrote a wonderful album about cool topics and stuff but its about a minecraft roleplay now, and these next ones are all off that album :D also half of them are c!tubbo because well. you know who youre talking to lmao

this got LONG so

the end: c!tubbo. in general. "all good things come to an end / to make room for new beginnings / all good things come to an end, an end, an end, but it's not the end" c!tommy's death. losing l'manberg. etc.

ghost: this is a walking exile arc clingy duo animatic are you. are you fukcing kidding me. tommy hallucinatnig tubbo? "everywhere i go / i see your ghost / every alley every road / i see you close / not enough to hold" HE HALLUCINATES HIM ??? and "go to sleep, go to sleep to see your face / i wake up, i wake up trace" dont tell me they wouldnt. "i have tried, i have tried to erase you / but that's a crime, that's a crime i just can't do" THE PHOTOS OF TUBBO & MD AND STUFF?? (that dream took down but) come ON. this song is about them ueueue

whywhywhy: i imagine this about c!tubbo during new l'manberg ig. "am i allowed to lay down my smile / and be bitter just for a while?" its just kinda . i could see it fitting him therefore it does in my head because i have brainrot

alone: bee duo and i typed up a line by line description of the animatic in my head but i cant find it so . ahahah there goes those hours but HEY its ok... i still have it in my head :') they r healing nd growing together <3

over the rainbow: this could. this could so be an animatic where c!ponk goes absolutely batshit. any of them really but it IS a breakup song so... you go ponk youre doing great sweetie <3 also though. let c!niki get absolutely PISSED and pop off. please. or c!tubbo you know HSDHSFDJL

it's my turn: this is about the cookie outpost this is about the cookie outpost this is about the-

no but seriously. c!tubbo talks about how everyone else always gets to break the rules and mess things up during that conflict, and that's entirely what this song is about. "now it's my turn to be the crazy one / to finally come undone / to go and let the house just burn / to mess the system up" its literally about that

(also the song has a nice instrumental with a computerised synthesizer i believe and it reminds me of lemon demon which reminds me of ranboo so its so fun to imagine a little montage of bee duo building the outpost and arguing and just LOOKING COOL!!! they always end back to back with arms crossed looking at the camera all cool in my head its awesome)

find my way home: c!tubbo for self projection reasons, nothing more

7-2: INCREDIBLE news. you know how i've mentioned c!tubbo in all of these nand how it could be about him. WELL THIS ONE HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH HIM!!! a miracle on this blog, really. this one is about PONK and really i should be able to just type the chorus and you'll all know exactly what it's about

"cause i've walked through fires and danced upon my own broken heart / piece myself back together every time i fall apart / cause ive won hands over again with the least favoured pair of cards / 7-2 i'll always love you cause you got me so damn far"

are you FUKCING KIDDING ME

"walked through fires"? yeah. damn right she did. sam burned him in lava. "danced upon my own broken heart?" yeah. broken heart. sam was their boyfriend. they moved on to foolish. dancing upon a broken heart, making it seem like nothing, laughing at it. yeah. "piece myself back together every time i fall apart"??? yeah. respawning after sam killed him multiple times . YEAH. "cause ive won hands over again with the least favoured pair of cards" ????? CARDS??? KEY CARDS?? THE REASON SAM KILLED PONK AND TORTURED THEM AND CUT HER ARM OFF ???? "7-2 i'll always love you cause you got me so damn far" ponk still loves sam TRY and tell me otherwise

oxygen: so this song is essentially about, well... "thought you were my oxygen / but you were just the opposite" sums it up pretty well.

and the number one reason i say this song should be like. every fandom has one is the way it's created musically. "words that ive heard from my mother and everybody else i know." theres a dissconnect before the word "know" and you should cut out from one character saying it to them to ALL the characters saying it. zoom out. PLEASE. then the prechorus has this lovely harmony so its two voices at one.. two characters? have the two characters leaning on on opposite sides of a wall, away from each other, saying it. "i don't wanna be so damn afraid / of all this very necessary change / hundred times i watched you walk away / and now i'm okay" LET THEM BOTH SING IT ABOUT EACH OTHER. also its just a cool badass song

anyways so this song dsmp wise could be about so many things. angsty c!duo because we all know they were codepend in the l'manberg days (not their fault obviously... god there was one line in a fic i read that made me SOB) but MAINLY i can imagine everyone after c!wilbur blew up l'manberg and. they all loved him so much and he betrayed them like that and his mental health had been deteriorating in exile and,,, (once again not his fault but like??? we all know c!niki was rightfully pissed. give her an animatic on it. also c!fundy.). also could be c!quackity about c!schlatt.... etc etc etc

ALSO our own house by misterwives is about l'manberg.... "we built our own house, own house / with our hands over our hearts / and we swore on that day / that it'll never fall apart" i. i miss l'manberg a lot

sorry how many of these were about c!tubbo. actually i'm not at all but the sentiment is still there. i am sorry that i butchered all of mandy's incredible songs about cool topics and stuff and made it to be about a minecraft roleplay. mandy i am so so sorry you are so cool marry me please

#BHDHDSJDSDSJLDSKL #dsmp #ask #dad joke anon

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lunariasilver · 3 years

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The Virtuoso - 4. Meteor City IV

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A/N I'm sorry guys, the ending of this chapter kicked my fucking ass. I've been sitting on it being almost done forever.

After the troupe left, I started composing a song for them. I wasn't sure why. It wasn't like I was going to be able to play it for them but...it provided me with some peace. It reminded me of them. It wasn't just them that playing my violin reminded me of, though.

Every time I looked at it I remembered my grandfather. My mother, my father...my brothers. It made me want to tear it apart.

I wouldn't, though. My father always told me I was a sentimental fool, and he was right.

The music it made was nice, at least.

Inspiration had struck me in the middle of the street and I was working on a random stanza. Eventually I was going to have to put all of these parts together, but for now I just kept coming up with more pieces. I couldn't help but wonder if they would ever fit together.

I was interrupted by a familiar face. I couldn't quite place it at first, though.

"Give me your violin!" She demanded, standing in a threatening manner.

I stared at her blankly.

"Now, or- or I'll kill you!" She continued.

Oh, that's right. Zara. The girl I made lead me into the part of the city that people actually lived in.

"Why?" I asked. I was still positioned to play as if her presence made no difference to me. It didn't really.

"I'm- I'm gonna sell it!" Zara yelled. The woman was practically shaking. How tedious.

I tilted my head to the side. "To who?"

"Um-"

"Nobody here would ever buy this. Nobody can play it." I paused. "Why do you want it?"

Zara faltered, lowering her fists and looking at the ground. "Y-your music is beautiful. I thought that...maybe I could make it."

It remained silent. She was still trembling. She probably thought I was going to kill her. I was considering it. She did threaten me, after all...

"Would you like me to teach you?" I offered, surprising even myself.

After that, more and more people began approaching me asking for lessons. They started trading with me for them.

It was almost like I was an actual musician holding classes. After a while, people started trading violins to people. I assumed they bought them with whatever money they made working for the mafia.

I saw the mafia often. Well, their runners. It was strange how many jobs they were doing recently. They'd come to me a few times to ask me to handle a job for them. I obviously could never complete them, but I could at least point them in the direction of somebody who could. After the fourth time of me doing that, they started to come to me first. They even payed me. Jenny was no good to me, so I gave them a list of things that would work as payment.

I couldn't wait to discuss my new books with Chr-

Oh.

Right.

I was in the middle of teaching a class when I felt a familiar presence. It had been two months since I had last felt it. I almost dropped my violin I whipped around so fast-

"Chrollo?"

"I hadn't even said hello yet." Chrollo said, seemingly amused by my quick response to his presence. "What's this?"

My class was unnerved, but seemed to trust me to protect them from the former resident. "I'm teaching them to play the violin."

"How domestic."

I pursed my lips, trying to hide how truly pleased I was to see him. "I have to do something while you're not here." I then turned to face my class. "An old friend of mine is visiting. Class is over for today. Your next lesson will be free. I apologize."

They grumbled a bit, but they knew better than to kick up a fuss. When they were gone I turned to face Chrollo.

He was still smiling. "I brought you some books and sheet music."

I wasn't quite sure what to say to him, and I think he could sense that.

"I also brought food."

And those were the magic words. "What food did you bring? Is it cake? Cookies? Pasta?" I asked, advancing on him quickly.

His smile seemed to grow warmer at this. "You'll have to find out."

I narrowed my eyes. "Let's eat now."

"So impatient."

"Come on!" I demanded, grabbing him by his free arm and dragging him with me. When we got to my "residence" I paused for a brief moment.

"I-" I started, staring at the ground for a moment.

"Yes?"

I shook my head before dragging him inside. "I'm gonna have to read the books before you leave. So we can discuss them."

I didn't think you'd come back.

I was less sad when Chrollo left again. After all, this time I knew he'd be back. All of them would be back. They had no reason to, but they would. Just to visit me.

How strange.

The song that I had been composing with them in mind was so much easier now. I could hear how the puzzle fit together. It all started making sense to me. It had to be perfect, though. I couldn't count the amount of times that I had scrapped an entire section. Chrollo had given me a notebook that I was using to write it all down. I couldn't risk losing any of what I had already come up with. Maybe one day I would play it for them all. I knew Paku at least would like to hear it.

Time kept passing me by. Members of the troupe visited from time to time, usually by themselves. Sometimes they visited in pairs, but never all at once. That was fine with me.

Any time they got a new member somebody came to introduce them to me. Apparently Chrollo wanted there to be a total of thirteen members. I wasn't really sure why. (I mean, I had an idea, but he had never actually told me.) It kind of stung that I couldn't be a member, but I understood why. What use could I be to them if I couldn't leave the city?

Still, they clearly cared about me, and that was all I really needed.

Meteor City was starting to feel more like home. My thoughts didn't turn to Zoldyck Manor nearly as often as they used to. The people here were all fond of me. Or at the very least they knew better than to outwardly express their distaste of me.

I didn't "take care of people's problems" as often as I used to, since I was so busy with my classes, but I was still willing. Not to mention I had begun to serve as a liaison for the mafia. Honestly, aside from the complete and utter lack of modern amenities, Meteor City was quite comfortable.

I did miss having a chef, though. I still couldn't quite grasp the concept of cooking. Nobody had ever explained it to me. And it wasn't like I had an abundance of seasoning here.

....I missed good food so much.

Apparently the Troupe had gotten pretty busy as of late, trying to establish themselves in the greater world. They didn't have the time to visit me like they used to. It was okay though, I knew they hadn't forgotten about me. They still sent me messages from time to time, so I at least knew that they were thinking of me.

I tried not to think about how much I wanted to join them in whatever it was they were up to. That line of thought was dangerous. It might make me do something reckless.

I was laying on my pathetic mattress staring at a scarf that Paku had gotten me. It wasn't the actual scarf, it was a copy that I had conjured up. It had been quite some time since she had visited me. I missed her. I really wanted to see her again.

I closed my eyes, sighing heavily. Suddenly, it felt like I was falling, which was impossible.

My eyes shot open and I was standing in an unfamiliar bedroom. It was opulently decorated.

"What the fuck?" I muttered, looking around before I spotted a familiar face.

"Paku?" I questioned. She didn't look at me. She was currently cooking.

"Paku!" I tried again. Still no answer. "Pukunoda!" I exclaimed. It seemed she finally heard me as she whipped around to face me. Her gun was already drawn. She lowered it upon recognizing me, a perplexed expression on her face.

"Ivela? How did you get here?" She asked.

I looked around. "I have no idea. I was just holding the scarf you gave me and thinking about seeing you and then I was here." I shrugged at her. I had no real explanation.

Paku paused before nodding. "Ah. It must be your specialist ability."

"I'm not a specialist." I stated, raising an eyebrow at her.

She furrowed her eyebrows at me. "But you are."

That is not what my parents told me. "I must have developed a specialist ability, I guess." I was a conjurer.

"...I suppose." She said, seemingly unconvinced. "You'll have to figure out its limitations yourself."

I nodded. "I wouldn't expect you to have any insight."

I stayed and talked with her for a long while, quickly discovering that it didn't seem to have any kind of time restraint. That was good to know.

I figured out that going back was done much the same way as getting here.

I spent a lot of time figuring out my ability, which I decided not to give a name to. It seemed to tie into my conjuration ability quite nicely. I figured I'd just call it a part of "Gift Box."

In my defense I named my ability when I was young.

I found that I had to have been given a gift from somebody in order to visit with them, and I had to have chosen to use that particular gift within my Gift Box ability.

All of my Gift Box restrictions applied. When I was visiting someone, they couldn't see or feel me until I said their name. Their first or last name would suffice, I discovered, but it couldn't be a nickname.

Only they could see or feel me when I was visiting them. And I couldn't attack them, just the same as they couldn't attack me. I hadn't quite tested the theory on how my ability differentiated between an attack and innocent touching. That required further experimentation.

It was nice, actually. I could still see everyone without ever having to leave.

I could even see Killua.

He thought I was an imaginary friend.

I even checked up on my parents and grandfather from time to time. They seemed to be doing well, but I wasn't expecting them to be suffering. I was always careful to never make them aware of my presence, however. They didn't need to know what I was capable of. My luck they'd forbid it.

The time between the visits from the troupe grew ever larger, but it didn't really matter since I could visit whenever I wanted! I saw them all the time! It wasn't quite the same as seeing them in person, though. Apparently I felt different to them. Every time I visited Uvo he would throw something at my head. It would always just sail harmlessly through me. It was usually a can of beer.

He always looked so disappointed that I hadn't caught it. I think he was upset because now he couldn't drink the beer. (Cause it was all shaken up.)

The last time he visited the city he brought a keg.

That was a good time.

I barely thought of returning to Zoldyck Manor anymore.

It was almost like no time at all had passed before it was the second anniversary of my arrival to Meteor City. It was strange. This place was supposed to be a punishment, but it felt like anything but.

Which, admittedly, didn't make me feel as good as it should.

It wasn't like I had been falsely accused. I deserved to be punished.

I shook those thoughts away. It was better not to focus on them. The present was so much more pleasant than the past.

I hadn't been expecting it, but...the entire troupe came to visit me. I couldn't quite figure out why. It seemed like a strange thing to do.

I appreciated it, though.

Everyone around me was talking and laughing. I didn't know what about. Try as I might, I couldn't pay attention. I was too busy wishing it could be like this all the time.

I was too busy wondering what it would be like to really be a part of the Phantom Troupe.

I was too caught up in the realization that sitting here with all of them felt right in a way being with my actually family had never.

"When is your birthday, Ivela?"

I blinked. Chrollo was looking at me expectantly. Actually, they all were. I assume they had been talking about birthdays before and I realized they had no idea when mine was.

I made a split second decision.

"Today, actually. July 8th." The day I came to Meteor City. I didn't know why, but the day I was born a Zoldyck didn't feel like the right answer anymore.

The troupe were immediately in an uproar.

"Why didn't you tell us?!"

That seemed to be a sentiment shared by them all.

"Sorry, sorry." I said sheepishly.

"It's just a good thing we had a gift for you anyway!" Uvo exclaimed.

I narrowed my eyes. "Gift?"

"Hey! You weren't supposed to tell her that yet!" Nobu yelled.

"Uvo!" Chrollo said harshly.

The others also admonished him.

"We were gonna give it to her anyway!" Uvo defended.

Paku sighed. "The plan was to give it to her when we left. But I suppose now we don't have a choice."

I was beginning to think they liked giving me gifts because they felt bad for me, being cooped up here. That didn't bother me as much as it should have, though. Maybe people should feel a little bad for me. I have to bathe in a dirty river.

"I'm waiting with bated breath." I said blankly.

"We're gonna wipe that look off your face." Machi vowed. "Close your eyes."

I did as requested. If it isn't food I'm gonna be pissed-

I almost snickered at my own joke.

A moment later, I was told to open my eyes. Chrollo was standing in front of me holding a violin. At first glance it was nothing special. I was confused. I already had a violin, I didn't need-

Wait.

My eyes widened as I carefully took the violin from him. It was a Strandivari Violin.

Back when the world was my oyster, (so long as I obeyed,) I had taken a particular interest in valuable violins, for obvious reasons. This one in particular was...

Insane.

I looked at Chrollo with my eyes wide, and turned my gaze to the other members. They were all staring at me.

This was literally the most valuable violin in the world. This violin was...perfection.

I couldn't believe they'd stolen this for me.

Whenever my family had given me gifts, they'd always been practical. Any gifts that weren't murder related weren't gifts at all. They were rewards.

A dagger. A bottle of poison. A blade hidden within a bracelet.

Nothing they ever gave me was to create. Every 'gift' I received from them was a tool meant to help me do whatever they wanted me to. Nothing was ever chosen just because I might like it.

In contrast, the troupe had always brought me things that made them think of me. They brought me books. They brought me food, sheet music, scarves, clothes. Things to make me more comfortable.

Things to make me happy.

Things to make me smile.

"Ivela?" I heard Chrollo ask.

I blinked, registering that my eyes had started to well up. I blinked rapidly, trying to clear my eyes.

"Do you like it?" He asked softly.

I stepped back and regarded the whole troupe, as opposed to just Chrollo.

They were all staring at me.

I stared back blankly, before I smiled warmly. "I love it."

The uproar was immediate.

"What a pretty smile!" (I still hate Shalnark.)

"Ivela can smile?!?!"

"I DIDN'T THINK SHE COULD!!"

"You guys haven't seen her smile?" That one was Chrollo.

"You have??!?!?!"

I just kept smiling at the chaos I had caused, waiting for it to settle down. If anything, my smile was only growing wider.

I adored these people.

I snickered as the chaos only grew. They were being completely ridiculous. It was just a smile.

I pursed my lips and turned away from the Troupe. They quieted down immediately as I positioned my new violin on my shoulder.

"So. Do you guys want to hear a song?"

I didn't wait for a response, instead choosing to force them to listen to me play the song I'd written for them.

8 years passed mostly uneventfully.

After that first birthday celebration, the trend of me seeing the troupe in person less and less continued, although they all came for my birthday every year. Or...they did. Before my father came. Before he killed a member on my birthday.

(To be fair, he was unaware that it was my birthday. But still. To hell with him.)

I liked the girl he killed. She was kind.

He and Chrollo fought. My father didn't stick around to finish the fight. Of course he didn't. Chrollo wasn't his target.

I couldn't do anything. I couldn't even let my father see me.

After that, it was decided that the Troupe having a regular day where they're all in one place was a bad idea, even if it was only once a year.

I still saw them, but those get-togethers that I had so cherished were long gone. I started to get a little scrappy with everyone that I could. I had to be the strongest Zoldyck. At least for now. My training regimen was intense.

I met many people over the years, although only two of them were particularly memorable. They all inevitably left or died any way. Aside from those two, the only people I bothered to remember were my violin students.

I remembered a girl that I trained. She grew to be quite strong. So strong that when a butler from the Zoldyck estate came looking for a new apprentice, I sent her off with them.

Cruel, perhaps, but it was what she wanted. Besides, the family never did much to the butlers. They wouldn't treat her the way they'd treated me. She'd be fine.

The other....well. Ging was...well. Um. Hm.

He wasn't someone I liked to think about.

Some of my violin students managed to get out of Meteor City and make something of themselves.

Or at least I hoped they had. I only really knew that they had left to go join an orchestra or something. I try not to think about them either.

No, I have to stay focused. I have to keep running towards my goal.

I'm going to get out of Meteor City.

A/N

Okay guys once again I am so sorry. That birthday scene was something I had a very specific plan in mind for, and executing that was a struggle. (I'm pretty happy with it.) Plus I'm doing the school thing again, so...that isn't helping with writing time. But I'm not going on another insane hiatus! I promise.

Anyway, here we are! Next chapter we start the real story. Only took 5 chapters to get there, counting the prologue. Hope you guys liked the Meteor City Arc! IT WAS A LOT

Also, Ivela's violin is based (obviously) off of Stradivarius Violins. Her's in particular would be this world's equivalent of the Messiah Stradivarius. That's right guys the Troupe went all out.

They said "If we're stealing Ivela a violin, it's gonna be a VIOLIN."

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#Ivela Zoldyck #Chrollo x Reader #The Virtuoso #Hunter x Hunter #Chrollo x OC #Chrollo Lucilfer x OC #Chrollo Lucilfer

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