#but I'll get around to everyone eventually!

[lis-likes-fics]

Love Letters

Pairings: Aaron Hotchner x Reader Word Count: 8.1k words Warnings: Murder, torture, depictions of mental illness, typical Criminal Minds content... A/N: Collabed with a couple friends about the serial killer. Guys, this was hard. Spent sooo much time building this character and then didn't even end up using all of the stuff we came up with. But it was fun and I enjoyed this and I hope you do too! Special thanks to the ones who helped me plan, @the-nerdy-goddess and @thecreature-bug and my beta reader @killerqueen-ofwillowgreen!

A knock on your classroom door has you turning your head, and you smile at the sight of the math teacher one door down.

You know why she's here, sneaking a “meeting” before all the kids get here for homeroom. You roll your eyes, scooting back in your rolling chair and crossing your arms.

“So how was the date Saturday?” Esther asks, raising a teasing brow as she walks further into the room, taking a seat right on the side of your desk. “You get lucky?”

You scoff. “I wish. The guy was boring. It was a total snooze fest.” You pick up a paper from your grading stack, marking another consecutive one hundred on little Amelia's test. “I told him I was a teacher and he told me how he had a crush on his teacher from the eighth grade.”

“Blergh,” she groans, making a face. “Was he a gentleman, at least?”

“I wish, part two. He didn't pull a chair, he didn't open a door.”

She shakes her head in disappointment and pats your back. “Your gentleman is coming to you soon. You deserve it.” She reaches over, picking up your necklace and running her thumb over the F before dropping it back down. “And I like that necklace.”

You laugh sarcastically at her, jutting your chin out toward the mirroring E around her own neck. All the fifth grade teachers wear one, a gift from Sarah’s—the science teacher’s—birthday party. “I like yours.”

She brushes the golden charm on her dark chest with a smile. She scoots off your desk. “Hey, if you're looking for another date, I might have a guy.” She winks at you, and you almost throw a pencil at her.

“Don't you have a class to teach?”

“Eventually,” she shrugs. “Small accident a few blocks away, traffic’s backed up. Buses are late–”

“–and most of your class rides the bus.” You nod, “Yeah.”

She walks to the door, patting the frame twice. “But I'll leave you be. I have copies to print.”

You shoo her away. “Goodbye.”

She winks at you again, clicking her tongue. “See you.”

~

The elevator doors close as David steps in next to Aaron. After a quick once-over, he smiles. “You look tired. Jack?”

Aaron shakes his head as he glances at his shoes, “No. Jack's fine.”

“Oh,” Dave raises his brows. “Did Aaron Hotchner have a date?”

He chuckles, amused by the assumption. “Me?”

He shrugs. “Good to have a little hope.”

Another rare chuckle passes his lips as he shakes his head again. His voice is low and soft with his amusement. “Yeah, I had a date. With a wrench and a kitchen sink.”

He hums, tilting his head from side to side as if weighing the options. “A date is a date. At least you can fix the sink.”

“Alright,” he mumbles lightheartedly.

Dave pushes the doors open as they enter the round table room, watching as the rest of the team slowly makes their way. When everyone is present and accounted for, he begins.

“What have we got, Garcia?”

Penelope sets her coffee cup down, making a face. “Oh, my little ducklings, nothing good.” The screen turns on and presents a round of crime scene photos, multiple women covered in uniform cuts all matching the other perfectly, besides the differences in the letters adorning their chests. It's graphic and strange.

Garcia avoids looking with everything she has. “Some hikers at the New River Gorge Bridge in West Virginia were going about their business when they found five perfectly marked graves lined up in a row.” The presses a button and said graves are shown before and after they were dug up. When Garcia says perfect, she means perfect. The graves are perfect rectangles, all the same size and depth and almost as though someone used a ruler to make sure the lines were straight.

“The bodies found were Madeline Johnsons, Beatrice Cabrera, Clara Warner, Dakota Platt,” one more press reveals a woman with dark skin now pale with death, “and our latest victim, Esther Cooke.”

The team flips through the files they were given, analyzing the information as it comes. “All were found covered in multiple incisions all over the body, and letters carved on their chests.” She makes a face. “I don't know how much you guys gate papercuts, but I know that if I got as many as our victims here, I'd be forever emotionally ruined.”

Reid's analytical eyes take in the sight of the bodies. “It's almost reminiscent of Lingchi, translated to ‘slow slicing’ or ‘death by a thousand cuts’. It was a form of torture and execution used in China around the 10th century until the early 20th century.” He talks a mile a minute, squinting his eyes at the photos as he does.

Prentiss shrugs, “Well, one papercut is bad enough, I could never do a thousand.”

JJ brings her drink to her lips. “I couldn't do ten.” They chuckle to each other.

Morgan juts his neck toward his files. “How did they die? The wounds are made for bloodletting.”

Garcia groans lightly. “So not glad you asked. Their throats were slashed, two incisions made at each side of the neck to cut the jugulars.” She adjusts her glasses, glancing at her tablet. “Autopsy reports say very slowly and with a very sharp knife. Like the unsub was trying very hard to keep steady. They also found traces of chemicals used in disinfectant in the wounds.”

Prentiss' brows knit together. “Why not just cut it clean across?”

“Well, look, there are 26 cuts in total on all the bodies, including the one at the neck,” Reid points out. “The incisions were very specific.”

“‘Course it was, look at that pattern,” Morgan says.

Each limb has a total of six equal cuts along the top of them, with the last two finishing off at the neck. It's too specific.

“All of the letters on their chests match the beginning of their names, except for Madeline. She has an A,” Garcia explains. “Madeline's family said she went by Addy.”

“Then the letters carved into them match the first letter of their names,” JJ says. “Maybe he's trying to go through the alphabet.”

“Matches the cuts,” Rossi shrugs. “There are 26 cuts, 26 letters of the alphabet.”

“Who died first and who was last?” Hotch asks, not looking up from his screen.

“They were killed and buried in alphabetical order, sir.”

A few members of the team nod, their theory supported. Reid clasps his hands. “Paired with the perfection of the graves, the specificity of the incisions, the disinfectant, we could be dealing with someone struggling with high level obsessive compulsive disorder.”

They agree.

“But how is he targeting his victims, other than by their names?” Prentiss wonders, “I mean, how does he figure out what their names are in the first place?”

Rossi sighs, “I guess that's what we have to find out.”

Hotch looks up at his team, his stern gaze glancing among them. “Based on the timeline of these kills, we hopefully have about a week before he strikes again. Let's not give him time. Wheels up in thirty.”

~

You look up at the gentle knock on your door interrupting your silent lunch break. You clear your throat, dropping your hand from your necklace as you lay eyes on Principal Luis.

“Hey,” she greets softly. “You doing okay?”

You nod, offering a half-hearted grin. You've had to smile at your kids all day today, despite the grief, and you were really depending on your break to wind down from it. “Considering.”

“You think you could talk? There are some FBI agents here with a few questions about Esther.”

You sniff, furrowing your brows. “FBI?” For you? You supposed that makes sense. You were close enough…

Two agents walk into the room, their professional blacks offset by the colorful parade that is your classroom. It looks strange, almost silly. You stand to greet them.

The woman offers a smile, a kind face to ease any worries you may have. The man is a little more stern, but there's a gentleness you admire hidden beneath.

“Hello, Ms. Hughes,” he greets. “I'm Agent Aaron Hotchner, this is Agent Jennifer Jareau. We're with the FBI.”

“You can call me JJ,” she says as she reaches a hand out toward you. You take it. “We're here with a few questions about Esther Cooke.”

You try not to look too miserable.

Agent Hotchner’s voice is soft as he speaks to you. “The principal said you and Ms. Cooke were close?”

You nod, crossing your arms. The classrooms are always cold. It's felt a little colder lately.

“She worked right next door,” you try not to stutter. “We were the closest in our department. I'm holding conferences tomorrow with parents about taking some of her kids into my homeroom until we find a…a replacement.”

Noticing your disquiet, JJ speaks up. “Was there anything going on in Ms. Cooke’s life? Anything out of the ordinary?”

Thinking, you shake your head. “Not really.” You shrug, “It was school, home, and not much else. The occasional night out with me, we are–” you clear your throat, “we were both single.”

Agent Hotchner adds in, “We're there any strange absences or even a trip she was going on?”

Again, you think. But nothing really comes up until– “She mentioned that she went on this tour thing with her parents last weekend, local. Some sort of…hiking thing? It's usually for tourists but they won free tickets.” Then you back track, “Is that the kind of thing you're looking for?”

JJ glances at Agent Hotchner. You're not sure what that means. “It could be.”

“When was the last time you saw her?” he asks.

You shrug. “Monday…before she went home. She didn't show up Tuesday or Wednesday, I figured she just got sick or something…forgot to tell me.” You rub your cheek with your sleeve. “I thought it was weird ‘cause she didn't call in or anything. I had to request a sub for her.”

Agent Hotchner nods. “Thank you for your help.”

“Of course. Anything.”

He dug in the inside pocket of his suit. “Call us if you have anything else. Here's my card.”

You reach out to take it, your fingers brushing. It was a comforting feeling. “Thank you.” The words are gentle as they leave you. You shake out of your slight daze, “Uh, here's mine if you have any other questions for me.”

You go behind your desk, grabbing a sticky note shaped like a koala and the first pen you see (which ends up being the brightest green marker you own)... The kids love the colors.

When Agent Hotchner takes it, he almost grins. You recognize the hidden amusement in some of the kids you teach. The ones that are harder to get to open up, even at this age. It's a little sad. Those kids happen to be some of the sweetest you know.

The sight of him in a sophisticated suit with all his professionalism, holding a cutesy koala sticky note is almost comical. He nods his thanks, and then turns to JJ.

They both begin to make their exit when you stop them. “Hey.” They turn. “Did anyone find her necklace?”

“Necklace?” JJ furrows her brow.

You nod. “All the fifth grade teachers have necklaces with our letters on them. Just like this.” You pick up the little charm around your neck for them to examine. “Except she had an E.” You let it drop, scratch the back of your neck as you hum. “Her parents said they never found it when they…”

The thought of saying “dug her up” out loud was haunting, and you already felt that shrinking feeling in your gut.

JJ redirects. “Would she normally take it off?”

You shake your head quickly. “Not Esther. She loves–” you sigh, annoyed now that you keep making the mistake of present tense. As an English teacher, it hurts more somehow. “She loved that necklace. We all do. We wear it nearly every day. Especially now.”

Agent Hotchner nods again, a really gentle movement that you honestly appreciate. “We'll keep an eye out,” he says. “Thank you for your time.”

You nod back at him, offering what smile you can. “Thanks.”

They leave and you check the time. You'd have to get your kids from lunch soon.

~

“Did she have anything?” Morgan wonders as Hotch and JJ return.

JJ’s teasing brows bounce. “Other than Hotch’s number? A bit.”

Rossi smirks, leaning across the table. “Did you find something special with our Ms. Hughes?” He puts emphasis on the title so Hotch is fully aware of her marital status.

“Let's focus, please.”

Hotch doesn't seem particularly annoyed, but there is a case at hand and he wants it solved as fast as possible.

Besides, it would be unprofessional to call her like this…asking her on a date after questioning her about her recently deceased.

The team giggles quietly amongst themselves. Children. But they do focus in as Morgan's phone rings as a signal to their resident oracle.

“Talk to me, babygirl.”

“I ran those credit card records like Hotch asked,” she starts. “All of which come up with very different results with no special link but one: three of the five all purchased hiking tickets for a guided trail a few days before they went missing. But they're very popular trails, tourists and families go all the time.”

“Hiking trail?”

“Is that significant?”

JJ looks around at the group. “Ms. Hughes said Esther Cooke’s parents won free tickets. They just went last weekend.”

“That would explain why it doesn't show up on the credit card records,” she says. The clack of her keyboard fills the space before she's speaking again. “Oh, yes, I see. The reservation is written in her mother's name.”

Reid looks up from the board where he worked on his geographical profile. “Clara loved out of state,” he says, “she was visiting. That could be how he found out about her.”

Rossi agrees. “So he's choosing most of his victims at the trail. Maybe he's a guide?”

JJ shrugs, “But how is he picking his victims?” She walks over to the pictures of all the victims hung up, their differences glaring as she shakes her head. “He's compulsive, he can't do it at random.”

“I don't think it is,” Hotch says. Eyes fall on him, urging clarification. “Ms. Hughes said something that stuck out to me. Esther Cooke always wore a necklace with the first letter of her name on it, but it was missing from the crime scene.”

The wheels turn in Reid’s head as he breaks away from his map. He picks up the crime scene photos, sorting through them to compare them to the headshots of the victims lining another board. “We might have something,” he mumbles. He picks up the first victim’s pictures. “Here, you can see Madeline wore a necklace with her nickname, Addy, on it. But at the burial site, it's missing.”

Prentiss catches on, picking another. A quick examination has her nodding along. “And look here. Clara had one, too. Hers is just a C.”

Rossi’s heavy brows furrow. “So you think he's targeting these women based on their necklaces?”

Reid words fly from his mouth as he speaks. “If he's killing them, burying them, and carving their letters all in alphabetical order, that could be his trigger—seeing the letters already in place and feeling the need to make it permanent, perfect.”

Morgan picks up Esther's picture, nodding. “We ready to give the profile?”

“I think so. Garcia,” her attention is lightning quick at the sound of her name, just like her wit, “get me a list of everyone who went on those trails and every guide who has led the ones our victims participated in.”

“That list is going to be longer than the Nile, but like Neith, I shall be victorious,” she declares.

Prentiss adds in. “Go ahead and narrow that down to white males who live in the area.”

“That helps.”

“Thank you, babygirl.”

“Happy to help, my salacious little snack.” She smacks the “ck”. He can hear the smirk in her voice. “I'll have that list in a jiffy.” Morgan chuckles as the call ends.

~

You plaster a grin on your face as you welcome in the next pair. It's been a long day already. The children have been a little fussy, others just sad, about the changes going on during class. The parents you've seen already have been awkward, annoyed, or (on the better occasion) nice, and you're ready to go home.

Just a few more meetings, then you can go home.

“Hello,” you greet. “Thank you for coming in.”

Ms. Tucker smiles gently, doing her best to be kind. She's one of the more patient parents. Her husband on the other hand… You've never been able to describe him as patient.

“Could we make this quick?” Mr. Tucker asks, checking his watch. He blinks harshly once, twice, three times, before looking back up at you. “I've got an appointment in an hour and…thirteen minutes.”

“Don't be rude, Larry,” his ex-wife insists, rolling her eyes as they take a seat in the chairs set in front of your desk. You sit as well, mentally bracing yourself for his meeting.

“Well, she's bringing us in here to tell us our kid isn't doing well in school. How do you want me to behave?” Another tight blink follows as he whispers under his breath, “Behave, behave.”

Ideally, these meetings should take no more than maybe five minutes. But parents make that difficult sometimes.

“Maybe if you spent more time with Peter, he wouldn't be having trouble,” she insists.

The animosity coming off the two of them is creating an environment that makes you want to kick them out of your room and do what you want. But you can't.

He scoffs. “Spend more ti–”

“Actually…”

They turn back to you then, remembering you're there as they close their mouths and listen. “We're not here to talk about his behavior. Peter has been wonderful in class.”

You grab Peter's file. It's just a stack of papers with Esther's old notes for him and his grades. You clear your throat quietly. “As you may know, the teacher next door to me just passed, and we are rearranging her classes until we can find a suitable replacement because we are short staffed.”

You hate saying “replacement”. These meetings have been hard enough simply because she's gone, but being the one of the people already working to replace her has been mentally taxing.

You pull your necklace from inside your shirt, sighing as you look up at them, toying with the charm.

You don't catch it. The movement is so slight and the whisper is so gentle that the moment goes completely over your head as Mr. Tucker's eyes lock on your charm. Under his breath falls a small, “F…F, F.”

“This conference was just to ask about whether or not it would be alright to transfer Peter into my class,” you continue, grasping the top pages out of the file. “Otherwise, his behavior has been fine. He's a smart boy with good grades. Ms. Cooke’s notes do say that he has a bit of trouble mixing with classes though, and he can be a little distracted. Another reason he would switch, he needs the extra social help.”

Ms. Tucker leans in slightly. “You said he has trouble mixing in?”

You nod, tilting your head as you remember Peter's behavior during your classes. “He's a little lonely.”

Mr. Tucker murmurs under his breath, holding onto the words. “Lonely.” His brows twitch. “Lonely…lonely.” You know they're tics, so you try not to make it obvious that you've caught it.

“He got along well with the teachers, but he's closed off to the other students. She saw that a couple of other kids picked on him, but they were little things that we were able to solve fairly quickly.” You sigh, thinking for a moment. You have to choose the right words, or this will end in an argument. “I would recommend trying to get him into things outside of school. A sport or a club, just something to get him to interact with more kids.”

Ms. Tucker is all ears as you speak, taking in what she can as she contemplates a solution. Her ex-husband seems a little out of focus, however. He watches you, his eyes taking you in, in a way that makes you uncomfortable.

“It also helps when the parents are on the same page,” you push through, ignoring the crawling in your skin and focusing on this child and his needs. “I realize you went through a divorce recently, which can be tough on your son. I know it's not my business to manage your relationship, but for the sake of your son, it's important not to be hostile in front of him. It could force him into thinking he has to choose a side, which can lead to negative effects on his mental health.”

She nods, soaking it in. “We can talk about it. You have our permission to take him in.”

“Yes.” Mr. Tucker nods. You watch his head dip three times. “Yes, yes.”

You sigh internally, glad the meeting is coming to a close. “Thank you,” you smile. “Did you have any questions for me?”

He replies, smiling as well. “No. Thank you.”

“Alright,” you close Peter's file, “then we should be good.”

“Thank you,” Ms. Tucker says. She reaches a hand out to shake your hand, and you take it. Her ex-husband does the same, though he lingers a little longer than you appreciate.

“Of course.”

They leave. You take a moment to breathe before you welcome in the next parents. And two meetings later, you've wrapped everything up. After clearing your desk, you snatch your things and head straight for the door.

You're happy to know it's not too late when you step out of the building. The sun is still up, but the moon is beginning to show with the coming evening. As you make your way to your car in the relatively lonely parking lot, it blinks when you unlock the doors.

You open the back door to throw your things inside, slamming it shut and opening the front in one movement.

You don't hear the footsteps behind you over the sound of your relief about the end of your day. So when something comes down hard at the back of your head, your pain and surprise is interrupted by the sudden darkness that overcomes you.

~

“You're on speaker.”

Garcia’s voice arises from Morgan's voice like the oracle she is. “Then I shall speak my prophecy for all to hear. I narrowed that list down significantly to the tour guides that lead the trails all of the victims went on—except the one who didn't. Speaking of, it turns out that our odd one out, Dakota Platt, put in an application to work as a guide but was denied. Anyway, I came up with three matches.”

Rossi hums. “Narrow the list to anyone recently going through a major change. A divorce, potential job loss, something like that.”

The sound of Garcia’s keyboard is heard over the phone, her voice coming a second later. “That takes one out. There's Perry Williams, he's just suffered a loss in the family—his mother died of lung cancer four months ago, around when the killings started. Then there's one other, Laurence Tucker, who just went through a divorce around a year ago. He's fighting a custody battle with his wife, started a couple weeks before the estimated time of the first murder.”

“Can you take a look at their medical histories?” Prentiss requests.

“Tucker has diagnosed OCD. He stopped taking his meds at the same time as the divorce.”

JJ is already on her feet as she slips her phone in her pocket. “That's our guy.” The rest of the team follow suit.

“I've just sent his home address to your phones.”

Hotch is packing his things as he speaks. “Garcia, go through his history. There may be something to suggest where he may be taking his victims to torture them. He can't be taking them home.”

Morgan raises the phone to his mouth. “Thanks, hot stuff.”

“Anything for you. Garcia out.”

~

“Clear.”

At the sound of the last check, Hotch lowers his gun as he sighs. “Hotch.” He looks over to see Reid peeking his head out of a room down the hall. He follows him, walking inside and following his gaze down to Reid’s hand, where he's holding a necklace he's pulled from a dark box on the dresser.

There are four necklaces neatly arranged within it, the fifth in Reid’s hand. An E for Esther.

His phone rings. “Yes, Garcia?”

She speaks quickly. “Our guy grew up in the area and attended a schoolhouse when he was little that was shut down years ago for unusual practices with the students. Reports found that the teachers there used to discipline ‘bad kids’—and by bad, I'm not talking just behavior, these are kids with diagnosed Autism, ADHD, OCD, the whole alphabet. Oh…maybe that wasn't the best word.”

“How were they disciplined?” Reid asks, pulling her back on track.

“Oh, right! The teachers used to slap hands with rulers and spank these children, sometimes with paddles. Sometimes kids would come home with big red letters drawn on their chests or clothes when they received failing grades as a way to shame them into passing.” She hums, “I'm guessing that's where the signature comes from.”

Reid sets the necklace down, “Is the building still up?”

“Like I said, it was shut down years ago. It was marked for demolition, but they never got around to it. The building still very much exists, and it's covered in wooden boards and caution tape.”

Hotch nods. “Send us the address. This could be where he's killing them.”

“Already done,” she says. “Also, fun fact. I learned that Tucker's son attends the school Esther Cooke taught at. Apparently, he was one of her students.”

A chill ran down Hotch’s spine as he thought about that. Scrambling in his jacket, he pulls out the koala sticky note in the inside pocket. “Garcia, I need you to give me another address.”

Reid’s brow furrows at his sudden haste. “What's wrong?”

“Ms. Hughes held conferences today for the parents of children Esther Cooke taught.”

Reid walks after him as Garcia retrieves the address. “So?”

“She wears an F.”

~

Your bleary eyes are so dazed and heavy. Mixed with the pain, it was hard to keep your head up and your eyes open. The letters lining the top of the walls, the alphabet which wraps around the room, fly around your head. It mixes with the chairs and desks, arranged so neatly around the room, lining the walls like the letters do. There's chalk and pencils and paper, all old and run down but set so neatly. The chaos and the tidiness is maddening.

It really hurts. Your arms and legs are covered in cuts, slow and methodical and painful. Your limbs shake with exhaustion, sweat sticks to your forehead and you feel heavy and sick. He'd removed your necklace. It's sitting on the desk where he keeps the rest of his supplies. You want it back.

His disorder is evident, and it bleeds over you with a glaring taunt. Every time he cuts you, he measures it with a ruler, and then you're thrown through the added torture of him disinfecting the wound each time. He counts it each time. He chants under his breath every time he cuts you, every time you talk, every time he blinks.

You just want to go home.

“Mr. Tucker, please,” you beg for the hundredth time, your plea falling on deaf ears.

He shakes his head, his ruler in the middle of your thigh. You want to move it. If he can't make a precise cut, he won't cut. But you don't have the strength. It's taking a lot to keep your head up.

“Hush,” he urges absentmindedly. “Hush, hush.” He adjusts the glasses on the bridge of his nose, careful not to use his hands.

“Why are you doing this?”

His attention is razor sharp as he measures. “I have to.”

It’s the most answer he's given you so far. Maybe if you just keep him talking, you'll be able to talk him out of it. You keep your voice gentle, trying not to sound as pained as you are. “Why?” you ask, though your voice wavers. “What did I do? What did Esther do?”

The name seems to spark something as he nods three times. “E, E, E.”

Your brow furrows. “Is this because of our necklaces?”

He shakes his head this time. Three times. “You won't understand.”

You sigh heavily. “Then help me understand.”

“You won't, you won't.” He picks up the knife, and you flinch away from him. “You won't.”

You keep trying. “You just have to talk to me,” you give him the best smile you can. “You can talk to me, Larry.” If you say his name, maybe you'll appeal to him. You can make it personal. You have to try something.

He mutters under his breath, as though he's thinking. “Talk, talk…talk.”

You nod, speaking slowly. “Yes. Just put the knife down, and we can talk.”

A scream tears through your throat as he drags the sharp blade across your thigh. It burns and it sears and tears stream down your cheeks at the feeling.

“19, 19, 19.”

You don't know what number he's going to, but you're scared for what he'll do when he finishes counting.

You struggle around the lump in your throat to speak, forcing out a breath to try and level yourself. “Is this about your OCD?” He glances up at you, but he doesn't give it too much thought. “I recognize it. Peter has early signs.”

“Peter,” he mumbles, finally taking pause to think. He hums and blinks.

“Yes, Peter,” you urge. “Your son. If you keep going, you could hurt him.” It's hard to see past your tears, but you keep going anyway. “When you get caught, and you will get caught, Peter will be taken away from you forever. He'd never forgive you.”

“Forgive me,” he huffs, shaking his head and rubbing his face. He grips his ruler in one hand. “Forgive me, forgive me.” He presses the ruler to the other leg, “Stop talking.”

You try to squirm, “Larry– Ah!” You purse your lips to stifle your shout, squeezing your eyes shut and clenching your fists.

“20, 20, 20.”

A round of sobs rack through you. You can't hide the pain anymore. It's so evident, and it's so intense. You can't breathe. You hiss as the disinfectant stings.

“Please,” you cry. “Please, just tell me why.”

He shakes his head. He's upset now, you can see it in the crease of his brow, in the excessive head shakes, in the way he rubs his face so roughly. “They said I have to.”

“Who?”

“My teachers.” He looks around the room, and his eyes fall on the alphabet lining the walls.

You follow his gaze. The schoolhouse actually makes sense now. You thought he'd chosen it because it was abandoned…

“I can't do the alphabet. I have to do the alphabet, alphabet.” He says it like he's reciting something, like he's punishing himself.

Your breath is heavy, you blink rapidly, trying to see past your tear-filled eyes. “Your teachers made you do this?”

God, sometimes you hate teachers.

He rubs at his eyes, sighing heavily. “A, A, A,” he begins, speaking quickly and almost like he's struggling to speak. It reminds you of memorization methods. Sometimes you suggest it to students who have trouble remembering vocab—write it down over and over until you remember. Maybe that's why he's doing it? “B, B, B. C, C, C. D, D, D. E, E, E. F.”

He opens his eyes and points his knife at you. “F. F.”

The fear flares within you again. You try not to turn to a blubbering mess. You can't communicate with him if you can't speak properly. “Is that what you're doing?”

He moves to your arm. You try to pull at the duct tape he's got wrapped securely around your hands. You've been trapped here so long, your hands are numb, your wrists are bruising.

“Have to get to Z, Z, Z.”

You almost shout it when he presses the ruler to your arm. “Listen, listen, listen!” you say it in a rush, so, so scared. He actually stops. “Okay, they said to say it three times, right? You have to write it three times?”

The number triggers his tic. “Three, Three, three.” It's honestly becoming annoying. It's insistent and repetitive and it feels almost invasive. But you have to be patient or he'll just kill you faster.

“You don't have to do this.” Your face is itchy from the tears drying and re-wetting, but you can't scratch. “You're gonna be okay.”

He's not listening anymore. “Behave,” he warns, holding the knife to your face. “Behave.” He shakes his head. “Behave.”

He's stopped listening. Despite your screams, he measures and cuts and cleans and measures and cuts and cleans, repeating each number as he comes to it with calculated method.

You clench your fists as the knife digs into your thigh again. You're surprised you can get your broken cries out as you struggle to breathe.

He stands up, taking large steps back to look at his work. You suppose he's almost done, and that terrifies you.

You think about your students, the little kids in your classroom who have already lost one teacher and are now going to lose a second. All those good kids are going through so much already. They all loved Esther. You know they all loved you. You have a wall of art, holiday cards, and plenty of hugged legs to show for it.

You don't want to lose them. You don't want them to lose you.

In a last ditch effort to dissuade him from his pursuits, you shake your head and sigh heavily. “Please.”

He comes closer to you, squinting his eyes to try to ease you. “Shh, shh, shh,” he says. “Just close your eyes. It'll be over soon, soon, soon.”

He presses the ruler to your neck, and you don't have the strength to fight it. It inspires more tears as you shake your head weakly. “Please, please, please.” You chant it, closing your eyes shut. You brace for the end…

Both of you jump when the loudest crash resonates within the room. Wood splinters and heavy boots stomp against the floor. Startled, he staggers back. You open your eyes, lights flashing as the room crowds with armoured people.

“Laurence Tucker, drop the knife.”

You know that voice. You recognize it. It's hard to see past the lights and the tears in your eyes. You know him.

“Can't! Can't. Can't, I have to finish. I have to finish. I have to finish.”

He's panicking. Too many things happening at once, everything out of order, everything out of control. He grips the knife tighter, looking between you and the cops in the room.

Someone else, their voice louder and less patient, shouts. “Drop the knife now!”

“Behave, behave. Behave!”

Someone else's voice, softer and somehow understanding, speaks. Though the voices are beginning to blur. “We know what your teachers did to you,” he bids. “We know how they hurt you.”

They hurt him.

He shakes his alphabet, losing it over the chaos. His frustration is palpable. Every time they speak, he gets more and more angry. “Can't do the alphabet. I have to do the alphabet. I'm supposed to do the alphabet!”

“Larry,” you speak, your voice hoarse from overuse. You catch your breath, keeping your voice level. Like you're talking to one of your students. He's scared, he's angry. He needs patience. “Larry, look at me.”

You can practically feel the concern of the agents rolling off of them. They don't want you misspeaking and making him more upset than he already is.

But he looks at you, and he seems to respond to the softness because his furrowed brows shift very slightly, his anger turns to some semblance of fear.

Although it hurts, you try to smile. It's taking so much to lift your head, even more to get the words out without the heaviness of your rising fear and exhaustion.

“They were bad teachers.” He rubs his face, but you press on, speaking slowly. “They weren't supposed to hurt you. Teachers are supposed to help. They were wrong.”

He closes his eyes. “They were wrong,” he whispers, like he's trying to convince himself. “They were wrong, wrong.”

The desperation seeps in. “Let me help you,” you whisper. “Let them help you.”

“Help me,” he mutters, his voice as quiet as yours. “Help me, help me.”

The first voice, the one you know, he speaks again, patient but still an order. “Drop the knife, and we can help you.”

“Help me,” he whispers. Slowly, he moves as he contemplates the words. “Help me.” They raise their guns in alarm, but he keeps crouching until he's finally kneeling on the floor. He grips the knife. “Help me.”

“Just breathe, Larry,” you huff. The spark of adrenaline you'd gotten from your rescue is wearing off again. You feel like you might pass out. “It'll be okay,” you mutter. “It's going to be okay, it'll be okay.”

He stares at the floor, thinking. “Okay…okay,” he drops the knife, and it clatters to the floor. “Okay.”

They make quick work of cuffing him, forcing his hands behind his back as the metal clinks against itself.

An agent immediately rushes to you, and you immediately recognize him, just as you had his voice. Agent Hotchner kneels before you, carefully removing the duct tape around your wrists and ankles. “Are you alright?” His voice is so soft and gentle. You lean into it as your eyelids become heavier and heavier.

“I think I'm gonna pass out.”

Your voice is scratchy when you speak. He looks you over, and his hand comes to press against your cheek. It's oddly intimate, though you know it's for comfort. You lean into the warmth. It's helping.

“No, you won't,” he says as he removes the tape wrapped around your middle. “I've got you.” He glances behind him, throwing his demand over his shoulder. “Get me a medic.”

He turns back to you. “Can you stand?”

You want to say yes, but you genuinely don't think so. You shake your head, “I don't know.”

“Do you want me to help you stand?”

You nod, the movement choppy. “Yeah.”

“Okay,” he says. He wraps his arm under yours, lifting you slowly, carefully, like you're fragile and precious. “Can you tell me your name?”

Your words are sticky and slow. You genuinely think you're going to pass out. “You know my name.”

“Yes, I do.” He nods, and when you glance up at him, he's giving you the gentlest smile, and you feel like everything is going to be okay. “Can you make sure I have it right?”

You hum. “Fawn Hughes.”

You're so discombobulated that you don't even give him your birth name, instead the one granted to you since you were little.

“Fawn,” he mutters. “Is that your nickname?”

You nod, slowly, and hum.

“It's nice.”

The both of you make your way as he helps you hobble out of the schoolhouse and into the evening air, past golden hour where pinks and purples coat the sky. It goes a little faster when the medic finally arrives. They help you onto a stretcher, and Agent Hotchner apologizes every time you whine at the pain.

When you're settled, he gives you a gentle nod. You grab his hand before he can turn to leave, hoping he doesn't notice the way you wince and knowing he does. “Thank you,” you mutter.

He sighs gently. “Don't thank me.”

“Thank you,” you say again, a little more insistent this time. You swallow thickly, the falling adrenaline increasing the solemnity as your exhaustion begins to crash down on you in waves. You're surprised when you feel a tear slip down the side of your face, disappearing into your hairline. You'd cried so much already, you weren't aware you still could. “He was going to kill me. If you hadn't come through, I'd be dead. So thank you.”

He looks down at you, nodding gently, the movement almost imperceptible. “You're welcome.” He glances at the medic, and then toward the ambulance waiting for you. “They'll take care of you.”

You didn't want to ask, but the need is too strong. You're so scared, and he's the only one here you truly trust. Besides the fact that he'd come to your rescue, you don't necessarily know why.

“Can you please stay?”

He thinks for a moment. Really, he should be here helping the rest of the team. But as he looks over, locking eyes with Rossi talking with Prentiss, he looks between the two of you and sends him a nod.

Agent Hotchner turns back to you and nods. “Yes.”

You want to thank him again, but you know he'll just tell you not to. As they load you into the ambulance, he holds your hand, and you lay back and answer the medics questions.

~

“Mom, I'm fine.”

You sigh, as your mother's worried voice rises from the other end of your phone. “You were kidnapped and tor—Shit!—tortured by a deranged serial killer. I have a right to be worried.”

“Well, you don't have to be. I'm okay. See?” You show her the bandages wrapped around your arms. “Patched up and healthy. Doctors say I should be out of here tomorrow morning.”

“We'll be there by then.”

“You don't have to come down.”

“Hush. We're coming down, and you can't stop us. I love you, and we'll see you in the morning.”

She hangs up before you can respond. You shake your head and sigh, setting your phone down. At least you know she was worried about you.

You glance up when you hear a knock at your door. “Come in.”

The door opens as Hotch steps inside. His face is gentle, though without a smile. You miss it in a way as you offer your own.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, his voice just as soft.

You take in a breath. “Okay,” you say. “Considering.” You motion to your phone on the bedside table. “Got off the phone with my mom, she's…already on her way from out of state.”

He closes the door gently behind him, sitting on the chair beside your bed. “She's worried about you.”

You nod. “Yeah, I know.” You sigh, glancing over at him. His eyes are on you. Your lip twitches, fighting a bigger smile. You clear your throat. “Doctor said I'll scar, but…the knife was so sharp and steady enough that they should scar fine… They're discharging me in the morning.”

“That's good.”

“Yeah.”

Honestly, the quiet is nice. You look at him, at the features of his face, the softness mixed with his professionalism looks good on him.

“We retrieved this from the schoolhouse,” he says, reaching into the inside pocket of his suit. He hands you a necklace, your necklace. You smile gently, reaching out for it as he places it in your palm.

You're going to have trouble wearing it for a while, but it's nice to have it back. You look up at him thankfully.

“We also found this at Tucker's house.”

He hands you a second necklace. It's identical to your own, except this one has an E…for Esther.

You swallow the rising lump in your throat. Your smile aches as you breathe through the tears threatening to well in your eyes. You look up at him, your smile trembling as you hold back tears you've already shed. “Thank you.” He nods, smiling very briefly. “I'll, uh…I'll get it back to her family.”

“I'm glad I could help.”

Another comfortable silence falls over you. You tilt your head as you look up at him, wrapping the necklace around your fingers as you think. Something's on his mind.

“What is it?” you mutter.

He contemplates for a moment before he speaks. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah.”

“How did you manage to talk him down so well? You seemed so…calm.”

You look down at Esther's necklace, thinking for a moment as you shrug. You speak slowly, clearing your throat as you rub the thumb of your free hand along the white bandage on your forearm.

“He told me his teachers made him do it.” You close your eyes and take a steadying breath, the events of the night before too fresh to ignore. “That agent…said his teachers hurt him, so I treated it like an abusive parent situation. He just needed someone to be on his side.”

You hate that it had to be you, but at least you understand why he did what he did. You almost hate that you understand. “He was hurt as a kid. That kid needs to know he's not alone.”

Hotch thinks about that, nodding gently. “You're a wonderful teacher.”

His words are genuine. It warms you and puts you back at ease. “Thanks.” You smile at him, his little one reflecting back at you. “I guess I'll just have to figure out what to do with myself until they let me go back to my kids.”

A tiny chuckle escapes him. It's a good sound for him. “I think the children will be fine.” You chuckle as well, the sound of his laugh a contagious thing that you can't help.

He glances over his shoulder, out of the open blinds of your room to see Rossi standing in the hall. Hotch’s smile simmers down as they make eye contact. He nods, standing to his feet with a sigh.

“I have to go,” he says, almost regretfully. “Get well soon.”

You turn your palm up as it rests in your lap, wanting to reach for him but not wanting to seem desperate. “Thank you.”

“You don't have to thank me, Ms. Hughes.”

After a moment, Hotch turns toward the door, placing his hand on the handle. “Agent Hotchner?” you call timidly, your heart thumping in your chest and your palms clammy. He pauses on his way to the door, turning back to you with a gentle look.

You clear your throat, dipping your head and trying not to seem as nervous as you feel. You almost died. If that didn't tell you how short life is, you don't know what will. Asking wouldn't hurt.

“I know you're probably busy and all, but…” you lick your bottom lip, summoning the courage to look him in the eyes as you smile nervously. “Would you like to go to dinner with me sometime?” You think for a moment, “I'll stop thanking you so much if you do.”

Since meeting this man, the smile he gives you is the largest you've seen on him. It summons your own beaming grin as he looks at you with cheeks you swear are tinted pink. He chuckles gently, taking a couple slow steps to you as he nods. “I would love to.” All the weight of your worries lift from your shoulders with a sigh. “Please, call me Aaron.”

Your cheeks warm at his gentle affection. You have to clear your throat to speak. “Okay, Aaron,” you say. “But only if you call me Fawn.”

Another tiny chuckle comes out of him. “Where did Fawn come from?”

It’s a genuine question, an innocent curiosity you're happy to sate. “I used to be obsessed with deer as a kid. The nickname stuck,” you say with a shrug. “Some people think it's stupid, though. You can call me by my–”

His interruption isn't rude. In fact, you have to fight the urge to hide your face away as he says next, “I'm looking forward to that dinner, Fawn.”

You smile. “I'll hold you to that.”

Aaron gives you one last smile, saying a soft goodbye as he leaves the room to join Rossi, who gives him the biggest smirk he's ever witnessed.

As David opens his mouth to say something, Aaron stops him immediately with a raised hand and an annoyed grin on his face. “Don't.”

David raises his hands in defense, walking silently next to Aaron to join the team.

Criminal Minds taglist: @queermaxwooo @mdanon027 @lilianhallee @hpstuff244444 @thegr8estpuff @niktwazny303 @bubbles2300

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #reader insert #female reader #fanfic #fanfiction #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner whump #whump fic

[ktaerssoi]

can you write something about surprising caitlin in New York, like when she went to snl?

on the sidelines

relationship: caitlin clark x fem!reader summary: snl with caitlin. notes: tysm for the request babes it really motivates me to write when ppl interact w me so ty againnn (sorry for the late post) (also sorry this is cheeks) 😚 not proof read!

you and your girlfriend caitlin had been together for a while now, if you don't count the two hours that you broke up then you could say the two of you had been together for almost a year now.

this year had been beyond stressful for her, with the basketball season coming to a close and graduation coming up she had a lot on her plate. not to mention the insane amount of media coverage she has gotten.

caitlin was scheduled to go onto SNL in a few weeks, and you had been more than ecstatic when you found out you were able to attend. you quickly booked your ticket and were already thinking of possible outfits.

even though you could barely shut up about how excited you were, you were planning to surprise caitlin. you had told her that you had an exam that day and were unfortunately not able to go with her to NY.

-

the day had come for caitlin's SNL appearance, you were getting ready to surprise her when you got a text from her.

caitlin 😚: hey babe, are you watching it live? if you can't that's like totally okay, i just miss you 😪

you smile down at your phone, typing out a reply and putting your phone in your bag, heading out the door. you had already talked to caitlin's mom, so she let everyone know that you were able to be let into the set.

as caitlin was introduced your smile widened, you had seen her just a few days prior yet you still missed her an unbelievable amount. the jokes had started out well, and half way through your eyes were watering with how hard you were giggling to yourself.

eventually, caitlin gave one of the hosts, michael che, an apron. you watch as she tries to contain her laugh while calling it "her gift to him."

"ah, thanks, i'll give it to my girlfriend." michael says, nodding. "you don't have a girlfriend michael." you laugh as everyone on screen tries to keep a straight face. "i do however, shout out y/n, i got you an apron too." you're shocked as you watch her wink at the camera after mentioning your name.

you shake your head at her remark, and smile as you see her walk towards you. she still hadn't realized you were over there, but once she finally looked over toward her mom on the side, she saw you and hurried up.

you were taken by surprise as you were wrapped in a firm hug, standing in silence for a moment as you take one another in. "hi baby," you whisper into her ear as she finally pulls away.

"hi," she smiles down at you as she takes in the fact that you were really there. "i missed you so much, oh my gosh i have so much to tell you." you smile as you nod, and as caitlin greets her mom and chats with her for a moment you grab some of her things.

coming up behind caitlin you put an arm around her waist, looking out at her, "you ready?" she nods and you say your goodbyes to her family as you guys head to her car.

you giggle as you take a seat in the car, "so i hear you got me an apron?"

#caitlin clark #wcbb #caitlin clark x reader #wlw #iowa hawkeyes #iowa wbb #indiana fever

[just-jordie-things]

jordie dont you just think about how megumi values his personal bubble so much he would literally kill to keep his safe space to himself but he would simultaneously, spontaneously expand the bubble for the reader like cmere baby sit with me lets be quiet together and they just sit together in utter laziness and solitude?? brain-rioting at this point.

yes omg i am so pickme for megumi bc i'm so different and special <3

you didn't count as an obstruction to megumi's personal space. if yuji threw his arms around him for a hug, megumi was annoyed. when gojo rubbed his hand all over his head and messed up his hair, megumi was annoyed. even if someone sat too close, megumi was annoyed.

it didn't take much to breech his personal space.

but you didn't count.

if you approached him with open arms, he was pulling you close to his side and holding you there. if he was sitting and reading his book in peace but you came around? he was making space for you to crawl into his nap to cuddle while he read. no matter the situation, you always seemed to be close, and megumi seemed to like you there.

it was no secret, everyone saw the way you rested your head on his shoulder during car rides, and always reached out to him for hugs. but with megumi being as stoic as he is, no one ever really pushed for an explanation as to... why?

had you always been close? were you dating? did he give up on trying to push you away? honestly no assumption made sense, so eventually people stopped trying to reach for one.

you would always know the truth, though.

"you've got your nose stuck in your book again, 'gumi," you huff as you walk around the couch, hands on your hips as though you're about to scold him. "been waitin' in bed for twenty minutes"

lowering his book only a little bit, megumi raises his head to meet your non-threatening gaze.

"twenty whole minutes in bed by yourself? when did my baby get so brave?"

you pout at him, and it's effective enough that he drops his book and beckons you to come closer. he knows you've been waiting, you're not exactly patient about it.

and as expected you come to him right away, straddling right over his lap and curling into his chest like you were his natural puzzle piece. megumi merely chuckles as he rubs your back, coaxing you to rest while he lingers on the couch with his book a little longer.

"gonna fall asleep if you keep this up" you mutter. megumi hums.

"and once again i'll carry you to bed" he says. you giggle. cling to him a little closer. enjoy the beating of his heart against your chest, almost in sync with yours.

"that's why i love you 'gumi," you sigh, only partially joking. "you're so sweet"

he chuckles. it vibrates from his chest and through you, and you smile as you snuggle into your secret softie of a boyfriend.

like the secret softie he is, he kisses your head a few times, continues to rub your back, and holds you close to him so you could sleep comfortably while he read.

"i love you too, baby," he murmurs into the crown of your head before picking up his book again.

and you don't need to be told. you know. you'll always know. for as long as he keeps you close, you're all his.

#megumi brainrot #megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader

[wangxianficfinder]

In the mood for...

May 7th

~*~

1. any fics of lwj groveling for wwx? thank u <3

我的皇后是農民 | sowing seeds in the cold palace by sweetlolixo (E, 84k, WangXian, Imperial Palace, Emperor LWJ, Imperial Consort WWX, Farmer WWX, Angst, Romance, Wingman LJY, Wife-chasing-LWJ, Arranged Marriage, Best Boy A-Yuan)

~*~

2. Hello, I am currently in a reading slump and I'm in the mood for a fix that will get me out of it. XD

A) Could you recommend some of your favourites?

B) And maybe if you know of any great alpha/alpha wangxian as well. That would be great, thank you! @broodyelii

2A)

Mod Favorites pt.1 (I couldn't decide which to choose so have the whole comp :') ~Mod L )

~*~

3. For the itmf: does anyone have anything with the Jiang siblings realizing that wwx has a better relationship with the Wen siblings than he does with them? thank you!

~*~

4. Itmf fics where wwx is more innocent (like the drama characterization) and the jianghu/cultivation world learn about the frame up while he's absent. Like during the 13yrs dead, or maybe he's in hiding, etc

foliage by antebunny (G, 7k, WangXian, JYL & JL, Canon Divergence, Angst, Non-Linear Narrative, Canon-Typical Violence, JL and his many many uncles, JGY is morally ambiguous but okay, BAMF WWX, WWX is innocent of literally everything, for plot purposes, JYL Lives, Not Everyone Dies AU, Hopeful Ending)

gather by antebunny (G, 10k, WangXian, JL & WWX, WWX & JC, LXC & LWJ, Canon Divergence, Fix-It of Sorts, Angst, Non-Linear Narrative, Canon-Typical Violence, BAMF WWX, JL and his many many uncles, Found Family, Fluff, JYL Lives, they're soft your honor, Domestic Fluff, Happy Ending)

Loneliness Knows My Name by Jaywalker_Holmes, Treef (T, 208k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Eventual Happy Ending, Unreliable Narrator, Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It of Sorts, mutual idiots)

~*~

5. Hi, the other day I read a fic in which wwx was Olivia Rodrigo (as in he was a singer and her songs where his songs, idk if I'm explaining myself), and I was wondering if anyone has something like that except wwx is Mitski 😭

Thank you!!!

~*~

6. Are there any good fics, that stay true to canon characteristics, where Jiang Fengmian lives? Specifically ones where the core transfer still happens?

I have this plot in my head that idk when I'll write it cause life right now is chaotic. The story would diverge at the lotus pier attack. JFM would have gotten stabbed trying to save YZY and passed out. Everyone presumes he's dead and YZY dies like canon. He wakes up around the same time WWX & JC comes back but stays still. When everyone leaves the area, he rolls himself into the water and swims to shore. Some how his body isn't noticed to be missing. JC gets captured like canon and WWX collects him with the help of WN. WWX asks WN to collect JC's parents bodies, WN comes back and said he was only able to save YZY body. They presume the JF body was dropped in the lake/burned. JF makes it to JYL and is reunited with JC later. (How would the plot diverge with JF leading lotus pier, being an active general in the war who is senior to everyone else, understanding the benefits of backing WWX, & who may be grateful for WN & WQ help retrieving his wife's body and securing his heirs life).

If anyone wants to write this, please do!! I would love if it stayed true to canon characteristics. @myblurryreality

Yearning for Miles by Murahi (M, 378k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Angst, Fluff, Slow burn, Mutual Pining, seeing the future) not sure if this is similar to what you want but jfm and madam yu both live and (spoiler) wwx gives his core to madam yu

~*~

7. any fics of wei ying marrying into the lan sect? thankss <3

🧡 a stone to break your soul, a song to save it by rikke ( M, 180k, WangXian, Arranged marriage, Canon Divergence, Hurt/comfort, Light angst, Canon typical violence)

Concord by Deastar (T, 41k, WangXian, Arranged Marriage, Gūsū Lán Sect Rules, Depression, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending)

🧡 Stunted, Starving Juvenility by TomatenMark (E, 803k, WangXian, WIP, Fix-it of sorts, Talisman master WWX, Not JFM Friendly, Study Arc, Getting together, Fluff and Angst, Engagement)

the river and the sea by sasamelons (T, 7k, WangXian, Soulmates, Arranged Marriage, Misunderstandings, Angst with a Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, Falling In Love, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Mutual Pining)

a light hidden and singing by occultings (microcomets) (E, 48k, WangXian, Arranged Marriage, Canon Era, Mutual Pining, Getting Together, Slow Burn, brief family abuse, mentions of wangxian’s canonical kinks, Misunderstandings, Blood and Injury, Rimming, Outdoor Sex, Blow Jobs, Anal Sex, First Time, Miscommunication, Canon Divergence, Happy Ending)

forever is home (with you) by moonsteps (T, 23k, WangXian, Arranged Marriage, Canon Divergence, Intimacy, Sharing a Bed, Strangers to Lovers, the inherent romance of the forehead ribbon)

🔒 In Agreement by kuro (T, 9k, WangXian, LXC & LWJ, Arranged Marriage, Canon Divergence, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Domestic Fluff, Developing Relationship)

~*~

8. Itmf fics where wwx essentially becomes a god or protector spirit in some way

the past drifts away with the waves by thelastdboy (E, 58k, wangxian, WWX & Wen remnants, LWJ & LSZ & WWX, graphic depictions of violence, major character death, canon divergence, fall of lotus pier, major characger undeath, YZY being an asshole, implied/referenced child abuse, minor character death, major character injury, amputation, loss of limbs, transformation, merpeople, fierce corpse WWX, kind of, merperson WWX, resentful creature WWX, undead WWX, riverspirit WWX, it gets worse before it gets better, heavy angst w happy ending, no sunshot, hurt/comfort, politics, not cultivation world friendly, slow burn, getting together, revenge, demonic cultivation, WWX pov, dark WWX, monsterfucker LWJ, wen remnants live, sect leader WQ) WWX becomes a river spirit in this one. idk if that counts

🔒 Of Destruction and Rebirth by demoniqt (M, 88k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, major character death, rape/non-con, underage, graphic depictions of violence, Slow Burn, Canonical Character Death, God WWX, God Verse, BAMF WWX, Grieving LWJ, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon Divergence, Gods & Goddesses au, JC & WWX Reconciliation, Rabbits, Fix-It, Attempted Sexual Assault, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Canon-Typical Violence, Blood and Gore, Castration, Lots of it, repeatedly, Punishment, Hell)

Meet you at a different place by tawaen (M, 57k, WN & WQ, WN & WQ & MXY, WWX & WN & WQ, WangXian, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Ghost General WN, Ghost WQ, Eventual WangXian, Canon Divergence, WQ comes back to haunt the cultivation world, Bad idea to kill the one person who didn't kill anyone, Cultivation World Critical, Not JC Friendly, Wen Remnants Deserve Better, Sīsī Deserves Better, MXY Deserves Better, POV WQ)

You still sound like a song by Moominmammashandbag (M, 64k, wangxian, WIP, Ghost!WWX, Mystery, LWJ plays inquiry, AU from after the Wens came to Lotus Pier, Most people lived, not everybody died, Angst with a Happy Ending, river spirit!WWX, Angst and Feels, description of murder, imminent smut, Execution, bad dog names, Poisons, Discussion of Attempted Murder, BAMF WWX, Family Feels)

🧡 Vow by draechaeli (E, 216k, Canon Divergence, BeliefGod!WWX, Adoption but WWX birthed them all, Pregnancy Kink, Mpreg, minor male lactation, Consensual Non-Consent, Light Bondage, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con because JGS, Mentions Canon Typical Incest, Canon Typical Violence)

~*~

9. hi!!! if this has been asked before feel free to point me towards the relevant post, but for your next "in the mood for" post, could you recommend some fics where wwx dies in the battle at nightless city instead of jiang yanli? any canon goes! @tiesanjiaoshenanigans

~*~

10. ITMF angsty wx gf where Jiangs (all of 'em) are present. But not for bashing ok. I just want a full wx family. Thankyou

~*~

11. Are there any fics where wwx finally snaps the question " what do you want from me?!?! What do you want me to even do?!? " to Jiang Cheng? Not in jiang Cheng bashing way ok? Thankyou

~*~

12. Itmf a fic where canon diverges around where qiongqi path happens in the timeline, but not specifically the ambush changing. Maybe something happens before or after. Ig more like Jin ling's celebration. Does wwx get attacked at the party? Does the party go well to lure him into a false sense of security as part of a long con to get to him later? Things like that. Maybe Jin zixun doesn't get cursed, but wwx is blamed for nmj poisoning instead? Etc.

the cycle of regret by KouriArashi (T, 14k, WangXian, Groundhog Day, Fix-It, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Alternate Canon) A LWJ-centric timeloop fic set around the Qiongqi Path ambush that explores some different outcomes during the loops

Obedient and Bellicoseby thunderwear (T, 20k, Wangxian, Ella Enchanted AU, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, cursed LWJ, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Good brother LXC, LQR loves his nephews you cant change my mind, LWJ crying, Protective LXC, Pining, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Brief Depictions of Violence, meaning at least one of the people you really want to get stabbed does in fact get stabbed)

💖 A Crying Shame by thunderwear (G, 16k, wangxian, canon divergence, fix-it, burial mounds settlement days, getting together, pining, domestic fluff, love confessions, first kiss, sharing a bed, marriage proposal)

My Leaves Reach Ever for the Sun by nonplussed (T, 26k, WangXian, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fix-It, Crossdressing, Idiots in Love, Sharing a Bed, Canon Divergence, Happy Ending, Mutual Pining, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies)

To Be Named by Suibian_613 (T, 39k, WangXian, XuanLi, WIP, Canon Divergence, Out of Character, WQ is out of character, Everyone is probably ooc, canonical violence, Canonical Character Death, JYL lives, Somewhat Sentient Burial Mounds, WN and JC Rivalry, Sibling Rivalry)

Birthday Party by waffles_4_breakfast (E, 100k, WangXian, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Fix-It, Canon Divergence, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Misunderstandings, Sharing a Bed, Angst with a Happy Ending, Happy Ending, Getting Together, Mutual Pining, Canon-Typical Violence, Pining, Slow Burn, Poison, Torture, Requited Unrequited Love, First Time, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Rough Sex, Oral Sex, Come as Lube, Bondage, Dom/sub Undertones, Spit As Lube, Rimming, Consensual Non-Consent, Safe Sane and Consensual, Additional Warnings In Author's Note)

~*~

13. In the mood for all ur fav fics that update rarely, but when they do u get super excited.

see you yesterday by glyphic (M, 138k, WIP, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Ghost Hunters, Time Loop, Case Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Memory Loss, Angst with a Happy Ending, Slow Burn)

~*~

14. Hello! For itmf,

So I recently read this fic by covalentbonds named Linearly above. It's a fic exploring canon story with married Wangxian but from an older generation then they originally are from. Do you know any similar fics?

Or Any fic with older generation WWX and LWJ?

Thank you!!!

~*~

15. Hi! Itmf dragonji hoarding wwx as his treasure. Thx so much!

💖🔒 Hoards and treasures by  apathyinreverie (T, 21k, WangXian, Siblings, Family, not particularly Jiang friendly, YZY Bashing, slightly darker Gusu Lans, LXC being the   best brother, Some manipulation, But with the best of intentions, and   not between wangxian, Dragon LWJ, Fox WWX, Smitten LWJ, Fluff, perfect   happiness, adorable WWX, Romance, Some worldbuilding, courting)

A Baby Dragon’s Guide To Seducing Your Huli Jing by sweetlolixo (M, 102k, wangxian, Fantasy, But still in the Cultivation World, Dragon LWJ, Fox WWX, Younger LWJ, Older WWX, Fluff, Humor, Eventual mpreg, Angst with a Happy Ending, Best Boy A-Yuan)

🔒 Turnabout by apathyinreverie (T, 7k, WangXian, LSZ & WWX; LSZ & LWJ, WIP, Dragon LWJ, Fox WWX, Tiger cub A-Yuan, Mischievous WWX, Smitten LWJ, Possessive LWJ, Oblivious WWX, Domestic WangXian, LXC does his best, LQR wishes his nephews had better taste in men, Fluff, Romance, Mpreg mentioned, courting, creature shifts)

a siren's tail by sweetlolixo (M, 3k, WangXian, Dark Fantasy, Dragon LWJ, Siren WWX, Dark LWJ, Dark LSZ, Dragon LSZ, lying by omission, Manipulation, mpreg mention, Royalty, Happy Ending)

~*~

16. Can the mods and the readers please give me the saddest wangxian fics they've ever read? The sadder, the longer, the better. No bad ending though please.

Ps: please no Jiangs bashing.

💖 where the shore meets the sea by pale_and_tragic (T, 14k, WangXian, Modern, Anxiety, Agoraphobia, Panic Attacks, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Misunderstandings, Angst with a Happy Ending, Getting Together, LWJ Needs a Hug, Bunnies, With Ridiculous Names) don't know if they're the saddest there are but here's a couple that made me cry so... ~Mod L

💖 symmetry by bleuett (M, 44k, WangXian, Space, Science Fiction, Happy Ending, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Holding Hands, Blow Jobs, Hand Feeding, Cultivation in Space, Yearning, Reunions, Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Canon-Typical Violence, Minor Injuries, Grief/Mourning, Unconventional Time Travel, Burial Mounds)

💖🔒 I will find you by ThisIsWhereTheMagicHappens (T, 13k, WangXian, Modern, Angst, A LOT of Angst, with a bit comfort at the end, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Happy Ending)

💖 Shattered Dreams by pupeez4eva (Not Rated, 8k, WangXian, Time Travel, Angst, lots and lots of angst, Character death, but it's WWX so he is coming back, WWX time travels back to the Nightless City And doesn't let JYL take the blow for him, Post-Canon, Angst with a Happy Ending, And then just lots of fluff and WangXian and Yunmeng sib feels to make up for all the angst)

💖 I would wait for a thousand years by bleuett (T, 10k, wangxian, Post-Canon, Canon Divergence, Memory Loss, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Reunions, Curses, Intimacy, Yearning, Happy Ending, Chinese Mythology & Folklore, Immortality, Fluff, Angst)

💖 the best good thing by almostsophie1 (T, 12k, WangXian, Space, Post-Apocalypse, Touch-Starved, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Hurt/Comfort)

💖🔒 you are safe / loved / worthy / enough by everythingispoetry (T, 150k, WangXian, Modern, College/University, Social Media, Mental Health Issues, Healing, self-care, Anxiety, Hurt/Comfort, the mortifying ordeal of self-acceptance, Falling In Love, Depression, Slow Burn)

💖 Take Root, Come Home by piecrust (G, 3k, WangXian)

🧡 like speaking to my heart by SnowshadowAO3 (T, 613k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Daemons, Slow Burn, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canonical Character Death, Some people live!, additional warnings in specific chapters, if you don't know what daemons are that's ok because I explain it in the author's note, also by slow burn I VERY much mean slow burn) i don't usually read extremely sad fics but this one had some sad scenes in it iirc - mod c

🧡 Misunderstood by Silver_Flame_2724 (M, 250k, wangxian, heavy angst, fluff, eventual happy ending, implied/referenced rape/non-con, misunderstandings, self-harm, self-hatred, family fluff, mental breakdown, cannibalism, reincarnation, WIP 31/33)

🧡 Discarded by teawater (E, 178k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Dying Lan children, Hurt/Comfort, YLLZ WWX, Golden Core Reveal, Case Fic, Depression, Family Issues, Self-Esteem Issues, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Worth Issues, Angst with a Happy Ending, and it's not always dark, POV Multiple, BAMF WWX, dubious morals in the Lan sect Feels, Pining, Grief, Fix-It, BAMF LWJ) i haven't actually caught up yet but the beginning was pretty sad - Mod C

🧡 (Un)Hidden truth by Sarah_R (M, 122k, WIP, WangXian, Suicide attempt, Time Travel, Hurt/comfort, Angst, Self-Harm)

~*~

17. Hi! I am looking for red thread of fate soulmate aus. Especially ones where you trace the thread back to your soulmate. Preferably canon era, but honestly I am fine with any genre au. Thank you so much!

the heartlines on our hands by occultings (microcomets) (E, 47k, wangxian, Soulmates AU, Angst with a Happy Ending, Mutual Pining, First Time, Canon Divergence, Canonical Character Death)

lost my fear of falling by thefireplanet (E, 30k, WangXian, HuaLian, Bodyswap, Wei "My Intrusive Thoughts Are Totally Not Winning" Wuxian, Hua "My Husband Said I Had to Help You" Cheng, YLLZ WWX, WWX-centric, WangXian-centric, Post-Canon, Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, Canon-Typical Wangxian Sex Things, One (1) Obscure War Movie Reference, mawage, Mawage is what brings us togeder tooday)

~*~

If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic recs #i'm in the mood for a fic #the untamed #wangxian fic search #wangxianficfinder #long post

[flyingwargle]

as if guided by an inexplicable force, hinata finds himself outside of karasuno high school.

he dismounts his bike. a few students pass by, shooting him furtive glances, making him feel out of place. all throughout his high school years, he was repeatedly mistaken as a middle schooler, and now that he's left school behind him for good, it seems he'll never escape such impressions.

wheeling his bike along, he walks around, tracing the routes he took from the bike rack to the clubrooms, the main building, the gyms where the various teams practice. their doors are wide open to allow for fresh air, voices drifting over him.

eventually, he finds the gym dedicated to the volleyball team, established as such in his third year. he freezes at ukai's shouts, sharp as ever, yelling at his players to raise their elbows, to react faster. a chorus of affirmatives answer him, and the ball is thrown in the air again.

curiosity gets the best of him. hinata leans his bike against the wall and creeps closer to the door, peering inside. the players are divided into two teams, differentiated by green and yellow bibs. ukai stands at the referee's position, watching as the ball sails back and forth. the libero goes for the receive, the setter running to cover it, sending it to the left. the wing spiker jumps, unperturbed by the three-man block in front of him. his spike blows past them.

ukai blows his whistle. the boys shout in celebration. hinata, caught up in the excitement, cheers along. "nice kill!"

heads turn in his direction, ukai included. hinata freezes, feels his blood turn cold. then, the gym explodes.

"it's hinata shoyo from the jackals!"

"hinata-senpai!"

"hinata-san! can i get your autograph?"

"what's he doing here?"

"is he here to visit?"

as the boys rush toward him, ukai steps down and holds them off with a fierce glare. to his visitor, he says, "i never would've expected to see you here."

"hi, coach! i, uh, i'm playing a game with friends later, and i got restless, so i went on a bike ride and ended up here..." hinata chuckles nervously. "ah, i didn't mean to bother you! i can leave if you want-"

"if i make you leave, i'll never hear the end of it," ukai snorts, glancing over at his dazed team. "stick around for a bit. i'll throw them at you after a few more rallies." he turns around, barks at everyone to get back into position. hinata grins, taking his shoes off before entering to observe from the sidelines.

there's something nostalgic about being back to his humble roots. shoes squeak against the hardwood floor, the air stiff with only the door open. the curtains are drawn across the stage, water bottles and towels scattered on the ledge. it feels just like yesterday that he was being scolded for leaving his gear everywhere, always distracted by his underclassmen or something else.

ukai gives them a break, and the boys swarm him with questions about the jackals, how to improve their serves, whether or not he'll sign their uniforms. "no way that's going to happen," ukai grumbles at the last request.

"i'd be happy to sign anything else," hinata chirps. "within reason, of course!"

as the boys scramble to find appropriate items and markers, hinata hears footsteps approach from behind. he glances over his shoulder, whirls around in surprise. "kageyama!"

"oh." kageyama stops, hands in the pockets of his team jacket. "what are you doing here?"

"i can ask you the same thing!"

"i was in the area, so i thought to say hi to ukai-san." he nods politely when his coach gapes at him. "hello."

"let me guess..." ukai gestures at both of them. "you'll be playing together later?"

hinata nods. "yeah! we also invited-"

"ah! hinata! kageyama!"

"yamaguchi! and..." hinata waves at the blonde hiding behind his friend. "tsukishima!"

"why are you here?" tsukishima grumbles, stepping into view.

ukai has an amused look on his face. "i didn't know the off-season is when alumni visit their old coaches."

"the gym we're playing at is nearby," yamaguchi explains. "hope you don't mind us dropping by."

"i do, in the sense you're disturbing our practice time, but i'll just think of it as upperclassmen coming to see their underclassmen." ukai nods at his team, starstruck, now that the number of pros have multiplied. "you've got five minutes to ask for autographs, so make it fast!"

after a whirlwind of autographs, one underclassman approaches hinata. "could you show us your minus tempo set with kageyama-san?" he asks eagerly. "we're trying to replicate it, but haneda isn't fast enough." another boy, presumably the setter, scoffs and mutters under his breath.

"sure! uh, if that's okay with you, coach," hinata adds hastily. ukai nods, and he turns to kageyama. "did you bring your court shoes?"

"obviously. did you?"

hinata pulls open his drawstring bag. "yeah!"

they put their shoes on and step onto the court. it's like they're in their first year again, discovering the tools that'll help them succeed, unafraid to drop whatever is no longer useful. "do you still remember how it's done?" hinata asks, picking up a ball.

"you don't just forget how to do it," kageyama retorts. "dumbass."

hinata laughs and tosses the ball. he makes his approach, arms pulled back, leaping into the air in the blink of an eye, the ball already arching at where his contact point is. he spikes, the ball landing with a resounding echo.

applause erupts, along with requests for them to do it again. hinata turns and extends his fist, kageyama knocking his own against his. maybe there will be a day when they'll be on the same team again, but until then, the synergy they shared will remain dormant, always ready to cause a spark.

"don't be strangers!" ukai calls out as they get ready to leave. "come by and visit whenever you have time!"

"yeah!" hinata jumps to his feet, his former teammates behind him. "see you later, coach!"

#flyingwargle original #drabble #haikyuu!! #hinata shoyo #kageyama tobio #tsukishima kei #yamaguchi tadashi #karasuno #ukai keishin #haikyuu drabble

[furiousgoldfish]

Abusers gaslighting you will most often be about a situation where they did something wrong, cruel, hurtful and abusive, very much intentionally, and then their version of the story switches the blame on you, it depicts you as being the one who is cruel, hurtful and abusive, or alternatively, you're cruel hurtful and abusive for remembering the situation or calling them out for their behaviour, when they claim none of this even happened. If the abusers often gaslight you and try to make you second-guess your own memories and senses, eventually you will struggle with trusting your senses and feel like you can't trust your own memory and have to take on their version. But here's some reasons why gaslighting can be caught onto and confirmed that it doesn't make any logical sense.

If this person/people are claiming that I am the one who is continually hurtful, cruel and abusive, why are they insisting on keeping me in their life? Why do they keep taking measures to make sure I can't get away or am dependant on them, if they truly find me selfish, hurtful, insane, and abusive? Wouldn't they want to make way for me to get away from them, instead of endlessly convincing me that I'm the one who is in the wrong in every single situation?

If I am remembering things wrong, how come it's only the memories where my abuser/s look bad? All memories where they look good are somehow correct, that can't be right? If I remember things wrong, it would be both good and bad, not only situations that make them feel bad about themselves.

If these people seriously believe I'm someone who invents crazy stories of abuse, cruelty and torture, how do they still feel safe interacting with me? Aren't they worried I'll suddenly come up with an imaginary scenario telling everyone they did something horrible to me that they didn't do? Why don't they keep away from me if they truly believe me to be such a freak?

If I am truly someone who is doing awful and abusive things to these people/this person, how come it's never called out until I come out calling them out first? Why is my behaviour only addressed after I speak out first? How come it's never a problem all the other time when I'm not actively trying to figure out what the truth is? How come it's only relevant when they'd like me to shut up and stop asking questions and asking them to acknowledge reality? And then suddenly I am a problem. If I am a problem, I'd be a problem the entire time, not only in specific situations that they want to get out of.

If these people truly believe that I am losing my memories, inventing new memories, can't be counted on to remember the past correctly, or to comprehend and understand what is going on around me, why wouldn't they be concerned about this, and try to get me help? If they truly believe I have memory distortions and reality distortions, wouldn't they want to make sure I'm getting some kind of help, that I'm being supported to get a better grip on reality? How come this is only an issue for them, but no concern for me, other than me being condescendingly told to 'get help' or that I need to be 'institutionalized', in order to scare me, is that how loving people react to their loved one losing grip on reality? People are deadly worried for their loved ones who are losing the sense of reality, this usually happens due to a serious brain disease and people struggling with it can no longer safely take care of themselves; it's a cause for concern and extra care. Yet they show no inclination to want to care or help at all for this perceived 'problem' they claim I'm having, and use it to scare me into believing that this is my own fault. Does It make sense for them to react with such relish and condescension if they believe that this problem is real? Wouldn't they only act like this if they invented this idea in order to hide their abusive behaviour behind the lie that I remember things wrong, and need to shut up about it?

If I remembered things wrong, that would be a discussion, we could sit and talk about how I remembered things and why, instead of my version being shut down and me being told off for even voicing it, that is not a normal reaction. In what situation is a person who 'remembers things wrong' not even allowed to speak their own memories? Why would it be bad that these 'wrongly remembered' events ever come to light? Wouldn't it be interesting to know, if someone remembered something completely wrong, to hear their version? Rather than being dead-set on shutting that down, like those memories are an active threat for their well being.

It doesn't make sense. If abusers truly believe that you're a person disconnected from reality, who is also cruel, selfish, abusive and unreliable in every way, then they would react very differently to you than they do. If they had a truly bad opinion of you, and you were a harmful person to their well being, they would not want to keep you around, they would not dare to take their shit out on you, they would  not dare to tell you what to do, how to think, what to believe, they'd be scared. But they're not. They're instead acting like they're right to control your every movement and thought, and right to tell you which of your memories you're allowed to remember and voice.

Their behaviour suggests there's something in your memories they're dead set on suppressing and hiding, even at the cost of your own sanity. That is not a behaviour of loving, concerned, innocent people.

#gaslighting #dismantling abuse #psychological abuse #self doubt #emotional abuse #darvo

[ghoul-slime]

Mushy May Day 8 - Sex Turning Into Making Love (Aether/Dew)

Made it to day 8! I'll be out of town for the two weekends in a row, so my entries will probably slow down from now on, but I'm happy I made it this far! Was especially (unsurprisingly) looking forward to today's prompt. Thank you again to @forlorn-crows for organizing Mushy May this year and to @ghuleh-recs for the awesome dividers!

Day 8 - Sex turning into making love (Aether/Dew), rated E, 1102 words

Dew’s on him the second he sets foot off the bus, crashing into him so hard Aether stumbles back with a loud oof. The little ghoul barrels into him with such ferocity his cell phone goes flying, landing all the way in the dirt next to the driveway. The other ghouls watch in stunned silence as Dew wraps his legs around Aether and practically climbs him, threading his hands into his hair and showering his face in kisses. All Aether can do is hold on to the fire ghoul for dear life while Dew attacks his face and neck with wild lips and fangs, all right there in the driveway in front of the other ghouls and Papa. Even their tour bus driver, normally used to the ghouls’ antics, seems taken aback by the sudden display.

Swiss breaks everyone’s stupor with a wolf whistle aimed at the two ghouls. “Lucifer below, firecracker, let him up for air eventually, will you?” he teases. “He ain’t going anywhere.”

Dew growls into Aether's mouth and flips Swiss off, never breaking the kiss, hoisting himself higher into the bigger ghoul’s arms, seemingly trying his best to devour Aether’s face.

Eventually Aether does have to come up for air, and when he does, Dew lets out an irritated little hiss.

“Phantom, take my shit inside for me.” Dew barks at the younger ghoul, not once taking his eyes off of Aether’s flushed face.

Swiss steps in, opens his mouth to say something, but Phantom presses a hand to his chest.

“Yeah, sure thing Dew,” he agrees. “But in exchange, you have to do my chores for a week, yeah?”

Dew answers with a thumbs up aimed in Phantom’s general direction, face once again buried back in the juncture of the older quintessence ghoul’s neck and shoulder.

Phantom turns back to beam at Swiss triumphantly.

Aether gathers the squirming little ghoul in his arms, hoisting him up by the ass and turns to make their way towards the entrance of the abbey in an attempt to spare their audience of Dew’s increasingly desperate motions.

Someone calls after them. “Aether, your phone…?” It’s Mountain.

“Keep it safe for me, yeah Mount?” Aether answers back, already halfway inside. He doesn’t wait around for an answer.

By the time Aether kicks their bedroom door shut behind him, Dew’s already got his own shirt off, tossed unceremoniously to the floor somewhere along the way to the room. He’s got Aether’s unbuttoned and half hanging off one of his arms and is working his mouth, hot and wet, down Aether’s neck, licking across his clavicle before sinking desperate fangs into the meat of his pectoral.

Aether deposits Dew onto the bed with a hiss, and the fire ghoul takes the opportunity to shuck his pants and underwear before reaching out to yank Aether, now struggling his way out of his own pants, down by the arm. 

“Dew…!” Aether stumbles onto the bed and lands atop the fire ghoul. He attempts to get a word in, but he’s cut off when Dew wraps his legs around him and pulls him in for a sloppy kiss, biting at his lips and licking into his mouth.

Dew grinds his hips up insistently, dragging his hard cock across Aether’s belly with a groan.

“Aeth, gotta fuck me. You gotta fuck me right now, Aether.” He’s babbling, writhing below him. Eyes squeezed shut and desperate. Aether feels sharp claws scratching across his back, attempting to pull him even closer. “You gotta fuck me right now, I dunno, I… Ah, I can’t… Aether you gotta...”

Dew’s actions are increasingly frantic as he works himself into a frenzy. Hands scrambling to touch Aether anywhere he can, claws flexing and teeth gnashing at Aether between words that are rapidly becoming more incoherent. Aether knows he gets this way, worked up and frustrated with pent up emotions. The last six months had been incredibly hard on the both of them, and Dew’s current state is no doubt a result of all those emotions coming to a head.

Aether presses his forehead to Dew’s and cradles his face in his hands in an attempt to bring the little ghoul back down to earth. He breathes, a slow and even pace, in and out, until Dew’s breath starts to match his. Until the rapid rise and fall of his skinny little chest is replaced by deep, even breaths. 

“Come back to me, baby,” Aether whispers and dips down for a kiss, kisses him steady and sweet until Dew stops writhing and babbling. When Aether looks down at him, his golden eyes are bright and focused again. Grounded.

“Sorry, Aeth,” Dew apologizes between kisses. “Just, it’s been so long. Been waiting so long for this…”

Aether kisses him again, shakes his head and tells him not to apologize. Tells him that he wants this just as bad, missed him so much he thought he might not make it. Aether lets his weight press Dew into the mattress, a way to reassure him that he is here, right here with him. That he’s not going anywhere.

Aether gets Dew spread out on the sheets, takes his time opening him up with his fingers, reveling in the soft heat of the smaller ghoul’s body. A warmth he missed so, so much. 

“Watch me, Dew,” he instructs.

And Dew does, pushes himself up on his elbows to peer down, to watch as Aether takes himself in his hand and lines up. Dew’s jaw goes slack as he watches Aether push himself inside, feeling every inch of him slide into his body, filling him up just how he wants. Giving him everything he’d waited so patiently for.

Aether fucks him, deep and steady, and Dew watches in awe at how perfectly they fit together. He pulls Aether in for another kiss, wrapping his arms around the quintessence ghoul’s neck and holding him close, pressing their bodies together as tightly as possible.

When Aether warns that he’s close, Dew takes his face in his hands, looks up at him with such adoration in his eyes Aether thinks he might pass out.

“Love you, Aether,” Dew whispers, saying the words directly against Aether’s lips as they both lay pressed together, catching their breath. “Love you so fucking much.”

Aether looks down at his little ghoul and his heart swells, he’s never loved anything on earth or in hell as much as he loves Dew. He’d wait for him for a thousand years if he had to. He is everything to him. 

Aether wraps his arms around Dew and tells him so.

#mushy may 2024 #dewther #aether/dew #aether x dew #aether/dewdrop #aether x dewdrop #aether ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #ghost band fanfic #ghoul-slime mushy may 2024

[star1ight0]

Katsuki Bakugou x Reader "could've said something"

Guess what! I have issues and crave comfort so HERE WE ARE AGAIN. (It's 11:48pm as of rn send help) (Just finished it's 1am and I fell asleep halfway through)

Your quirk: Light manipulation. You can move and summon light, light bending, summoning balls of light ranging from small particles to large masses

Bakugou was always a.. scary kid to say the least. You two grew up together and he had a soft spot for you to say the least. When you got your quirk it was a lot to say the least between shining light in your faces and burning holes places. Eventually you got the hang of it. It did however make you wary of when and how you used it. Katsuki on the other hand seemed to get how to use and control his right away. The two of you trained together and Katsuki taught you how to make explosions with the light you could summon. The 2nd year of middle school you had to move because of your moms job and as much as he made it seem like he didn't care he made a point to ask you to keep in touch.

It was the second semester of classes yet you were just now starting UA high, class 1-A. Your mom had decided that because it was a little too far you'd move into your old house and she'd find work elsewhere, UA was a top school how could you say no to that argument? Late transfers and acceptance was rare enough for a top school. But it also meant you get to see him again. You thought about calling him and telling him but you thought it'd be better to wait till you saw him in person, you were next door now.

Most of your stuff was in your dorm by now, having the first day before settling in was a true blessing.

It was starting to get dark and the stress of it all was starting to hit you, thinking of how much you had to catch up being in 1-A and all. You made your way up the stairs finding the roof door. Making your up you got a text:

Kat: Hey. You busy?

You: Never am

K: got a new person in the dorm next to me, if they are loud I swear I'll end them

Y: I'm sure you'll be fine, don't kill anyone please.

K: Not that I care, but you've been radio silence for a few days

Y: I think if you have to say you don't care you do. Sooo talk to me when you can process your emotions then maybe I'll talk about mine

Love you.

K: whatever

"Everyone this is Y/N L/N, now be nice and be on time tomorrow" he said quickly walking away right after, a few people walked toward you to ask questions when they are all promptly showed away by the blond hot head. "The hell?! What the fuck were you just not gonna-" he was cut off by a hug. As he was debating on hugging you back you hear a girl's voice "GUYS THE NEW PERSON JUST HUGGED BAKUGOU!" the crowd of people grew and you felt a hand grab your wrist pulling you away. They all clump together continuing the conversation. You take the lead pulling him up the stairs onto the roof.

If anyone else had even remotely talked to him that way you were sure they'd be dust. But you cared about you too much to even yell at you unreasonably. Now at the top staring up at the cloudy dark sky you sigh mumbling to yourself "guess I'll make my own stars" you lied down on the roof making small glimmers of light float into the sky.

Not sure of how long you'd been out you looked at the time on your phone, bolting up at the time. Your new teacher Aizawa had instructed you to be in the common room by 7:30pm to introduce you avoiding using class time for it. It was 7:28. You bolt down the stars finding a room for people sitting with their teacher. You stand next to him with an apologetic face. You look around looking for something to focus on when your eyes land on blond hair and a familiar angry tone.

"Hi, I go here now. " You said with a smug look on your face you summon a little ball holding it for light between you. "Still gonna kill me if I'm loud?" You say in a teasing tone. You look up at him seeing a light pink on his cheeks. "I thought.. I wouldn't get a chance to see you again after I got kidnapped and everything. The least you could've done was say you were in town" he says a shift in his voice and body language making him self more guarded. "sorry I wanted to surprise you" you say wrapping your hand around his.

"I- I know we only ever all and text but I've missed you and being around you. A lot. "

"i missed you too. Ass hole."

"you love me"

He flinches at the words spoken feeling his grip tighten on your hand. Pulling you into a hug.

#katsuki bakugou #aizawa shouta #gender neutral reader #x reader #mha x reader comfort #bnha comfort #mha x reader #fanfiction #bnha x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #mha fanfiction #mha bakugou #mha katsuki bakugo #bakugou x reader #Bakugou x reader Oneshot #oneshot #bnha katsuki #bnha bakugou #Spotify

[wingsyliveblogs]

I like the repeated hints that as much as Luz is loving the chance to live out her dreams of a magical adventure, after her reality check about her new living situation, she’s started to look upon her time in the BI as a second chance at life back on earth that she feels she screwed up somehow, a chance to make new friends that won’t be repulsed by her weirdness or possibly even bully her. There wasn’t much showing of how Luz was socially amongst her fellow peers, but she does showcase a heartfelt vulnerability in her concerns that she’s got another chance to ‘do it right’ and worry that she’s inherently going to mess it up because of the same natural weirdness.

1. Yeah! I don't have much to add, but it's very interesting to observe. While Luz is getting everything she ever wanted in the Boiling Isles, ever since that reality check she got in Episode 2, it's come with an underlying concern that there are limits to how well things can go for her. This world may be magical, but there are mundane elements to it that are just as painful as the mundanity of the human world, and she's well aware of that.

2. You know... I believe every single word of this. Eda has been an agent of chaos since day 1, and Lilith has definitely been in the business of covering for her sister's troublemaking for a very long time.

3. A fair point. At least Luz can tell which advice not to take!

4. You're right... what's extra funny about this is that I remember when I was liveblogging that part of the episode, I actually found it really amusing that Amity had zero observable reaction to inadvertently slapping Luz in the face with goop...

...and now I'm realising that not commenting on it at the time was a huge missed opportunity.

5. Ooh, that is possible! Food crossing over between worlds could also serve as an explanation for why the Boiling Isles has regular human sandwiches, too.

6. Yeah, that's pretty neat! And seeing as Hexside is implied to be fairly close to the Owl House, which is right on the edge of the island, and it's quite far away from Glandus, which is apparently in the "middle" of the island, I'd venture to guess that Hexside is on the titan's side, too!

#wingsy liveblogs #ask #wingsy watches owl house #owls ep 13 #I love how many people have been using the 'Lily' nickname for Lilith... it's a very cute nickname #I'm a bit slow with responding to asks at the moment #but I'll get around to everyone eventually! #thanks for the ask!

[interoteme]

@doobledabbadoo's guy again after i couldn't cope with being unable to get the girl scout cookies i wanted in time

#jackbox #jackbox party pack #jackbox fanart #cookie masterson #ydkj #ydkj fanart #you don't know jack #fibbage #fibbage 3 #I'm getting my cookies eventually it's just that there's a smores outage #Apparently. Apparently. so i have to wait longer while everyone else gets their order. Ok #i ordered thin mints too. just to try them #anyway sorry I Really like that fibbage suit doobs gave him (Hi Doobs! you're awesome) it's so fun to draw and mess around with #Though It's Of the older design sorry guys. i got so stoked when i saw that new ref though #i am being discursive i'll stop. Thanks for coming guys *walks off the stage the camera switches to the completely empty audience section

[b4kuch1n]

OOOUGGHAAAAAAA I DID IT I MANAGED TO DO INK WITH A DIP PEN

NEXT COMICS MEDIUM IS FUCKING SETTLED. YUUTO YOU WILL BE FED

#bakuspeech #hi I am Fucking Excite #litcherally. the last time I tried using any kind of dip pen it was a bamboo calligraphy pen #and I was. 18. the previous time I was 15 and even worse at it than then #fully went into this attempt already accepting I will probably be maybe marginally better #but!! it was pretty fun I did much okayer than expected!!!! #I need to be more confident with the pen but I can do that. I just need to do this a Lot #but like. I was Really scared. I didn't remember how a dip pen behaves at All #I tried freehanding some stuff before but it really is very different from a fineliner #half relieved my 200k vnd wont go to waste lmao. man. I was ready to bruteforce it #but I wont have to!!! as long as I have a decent concrete sketch!! itll be alright!!!! #yuuto origin comic is a fucking go. I WILL do this. mom I AM going to be a mangaka #well. a doujinka perhaps #dgsjdjjs sorry Im just. this is 13yo baku's unattainable dream!! part of why I #turned to wholesale digital art and eventually brush inking was because dip pens were #deeply scary and messy to me back then. I got ink Everywhere #now I didnt even make a spare fleck on this one!!! I can do it now!!!! dreams do fucking come true!!!!!! #literally bringing this piece of scrap around showing everyone like a kid who got perfect score on a test lmao #Im just. Im happy guys. Im so!!! auuughghhhh #I'll practice more tonite. I will Get Better At This. I will scribble a bunch more of yuuto #to get used to the style. I need a buncha outfit refs anyway #have a good day!! holds u hand everything is possible. try something u didnt have the chance to be good at as a kid again #life is fucking good sometimes!!!!!

[obessivedork]

Something I've discovered about myself recently is that there's nothing I love more in a game than being able to be a two-timing spy. Asher wants me to support his slavery empire? You got it bro >:) NCR thinks we're friends because I killed a handful of ants for them? Totally >:) Caesar wants me to blow up the bunker underneath his feet? Sure man, I've got you covered >:) Brotherhood of Steel (FO4 flavour) wants me to work with them? Of course! >:) Nuka World raiders? Yeah buddy, I'll help you guys get back on track >:) Institute expects me to like them and join? Naturally >:)

#IRL I'd make a terrible spy- I have 0 pokerface. If I'm even a little flustered everyone within 1000k of me WILL know #Guess that's why it's so fun for me in games #And these are just the top of my head fallout decisions I've made multiple times I'm not even including mass effect or dragon age lmfao #or other games that I'll eventually get around to playing once I need a break from FO4 #I'm finally done looking through nuka world so. Time to turn >:) someday I'll do a full evil FO4 run *wistful sigh* #fallout

[kuroo-hitsuji]

Bro i really played myself with my trans Solomon hc huh

No visual evidence to subtly include in my art. No top surgery scars no nothin. No one will know but me orz

Fool. Imbecile.

Unfortunately though i will change Nothing bc it makes sense To Me but I will still be sad about it xgmxgmxxfj

#obey me #obey me Solomon #obey me trans hc #obey me trans Solomon #headcanon rambling in the tags #at least i can draw kuroo still visibly transmasc #bc Solomon forgot to mention he knows how to teetus deletus with magic before they went and got human realm top surgery #the bastard /j #and silver lining if i ever get the chance to depict the vague offhand comments he makes about his own transition- #everyone that doesn't know my hc will get to experience them like everyone in-world would lmao #(well. Mostly everyone in-world. a couple are definitely aware like thirteen and barbatos at the absolute least. possibly asmo as well) #like #it is literally a running joke in this hc that Kuroo is constantly wondering #if the thing Solomon just said is Actually as trans as they think #or if they're just reading into it too far bc he's just. So vague and weird so often as it is-- #(and kuroo does figure it out eventually but it takes A While bc he really just likes fucking with people.) #(like its 50/50 between him forgetting people don't know/forgetting he even is-- and him just deliberately fucking with them bc its funny) #alternatively i could give him Magic “scars” that glow under certain circumstances. for fun... idk I'll play around with that idea maybe #Unrelated to the topic but fun fact #(/s) #sorting tags is an absolute fucking niGhtmare on mobile oh my fucking god #i rarely use desktop tumblr but holy fuck man #i had to dig out my poor dead laptop just to make my tag rambling have Any sense of coherency #i was fighting mobile for literally half an hour. fucking hell. im going to beD i hope someone at least gets a Lil kick out of this hc rant #personal headcanon #Solomon #Kuroo

[k1rishiki]

the death of byron von raum is my white whale

#i can see why kofi is reluctant to work on it due to ppl's reactions bc mechs fans are. not intellectual to put it mildly #(and the ones that are jumped ship from talking abt the mechs publicly a While ago bc like . look at everyone else around here) #but i'll Get it . like i swear on my life all the little warnings and lampshading we've gotten so far (which makes up like 99% of what we #know abt it tbh) to soften the blow when it eventually releases have just made me more excited for it . #(spoken like a true eroge fan i know) #romeo.txt

[stardestroyer81]

Mega Man 10 features a triad of playable characters— Mega Man, Proto Man, and Bass. Unlike the former two, Mega Man 10 was Bass's first 8-Bit outing (Not counting his very minor cameo in Mega Man 9), and his faux NES sprite is... off. It's not a bad sprite by any means, but his color palette and posture being much too close to Rock's never quite sat right with me.

But what would Bass look like in my spriting style? Well... here's your answer! ✨

#Star's Art #Mega Man #Rockman #Bass #Forte #Sprite Art #Coolness #I've had a Bass sprite sitting around for a long while now— since about 2019 I believe #I've been meaning to post it for just as long but I knew I could do a smidge bit better than my first iteration of the sprite #So I made a few alterations to his posture and height and it was much closer to my liking! #I realize I could have saved a color by making Bass's armor a solid black rather than the usual deep grey #Though seeing as I went into this with the 'Mega Man Ultimate' spriting style in mind... six colors isn't too crazy #I mean. Just look at Amazon Man. His sprite uses six colors! #Even now I think that the above sprite of Bass that I drew is amidst one of my best character sprites #It feels a lot like a demake of his appearance in Mega Man 8 in particular wherein he has SO many good sprites #This does in fact mean that I'll eventually get around to respriting the rest of Mega Man's main cast in my style #I have preliminary drafts of just about everyone already drawn. All that's left is to touch 'em up!

[its-captain-sir]

oh my gosh, genuinely- PLEASE tell me about your turtles/zelda crossover

YESSSSSS I HAVE BEEN ENABLED ok ok ok so. don't have any explanation for Why it happens but the turtles end up in Hyrule at some point before the calamity. They're not together when they arrive, but rather split up amongst the four major regions. I'm sure you can see where this is going as to me drawing connections between the turtles and the champions hakdhskdjs I'm still missing a lot of the plot reasoning for all that to make this a truly solid au idea, right now it's kinda just been me thinking about who would be best matched with who, though it does get a little more complicated than just magically appearing in front of a champion and going from there

Meeting Mikey is point where it all sorta starts in my head. It's actually Zelda and Link who run into Mikey first on their way to Gerudo Town! He's just kinda been wandering the desert for a day or so after getting turned away from the town, and up until this point he actually has no idea that he's in a different universe, he honestly thought there was some kind of portal mishap and he ended up by another hidden city somewhere else in the world. Getting everything actually sorted out is a bit of a mess, but Zelda promises to help him search for his brothers, he and Link become cooking besties, and then they have him tag along to meet Urbosa. These two I paired together mostly because I felt like their powers of fire and lightning complimented each other well, and Mikey's chains might just be fast enough to help prevent something later on...... :)

Raph ends up in Goron City! In the hot springs more specifically, as it's the only place protected from the heat as Death Mountain becomes more active. Luckily Daruk was out and about though, so he finds Raph pretty quick before he spends too much time alone and takes him back to the city to get fireproof elixirs and eventually a custom fit set of fireproof armor. Raph has a BLAST with Daruk and they definitely spend a lot of time sparring (without having to hold back too much!) and showing off their different protection powers! Eventually though they do set off towards Hyrule Castle hoping someone there will have the answers to how Raph got here and where everyone else is.

Leo ends up in the Hebra Mountains and his first meeting with Revali is Absolutely Horrible. for Revali. Kinda like Mikey, Leo was on his own for a bit wandering around, except he ran into wayyyy more monster camps. Just bokoblins so nothing too bad, but it does mean his new motto becomes stab first talk later which makes for a bit of an issue when he runs into a Rito patrol spearheaded by Revali. They think he's a monster, he thinks they're monsters, it's a mess hdkdhdkfhd just as he's about to enter a really serious fight with Revali he finally gets clued in that these are People rather than monsters, so he drops all pretenses in his usual manner and backs off instantly and Revali's just left scrambling like "what." And really it only gets worse for him from there cause here's yet ANOTHER blue coded sword wielder except this one. this one tries to be annoying to him on purpose. Leo has absolutely no qualms about throwing all Revali's bullshit right back at him and pesters him beyond that just for fun (he's just similar enough to Donnie that Leo knows alllll the right buttons to press). Revali wants to get rid of him right away, but who knows, maybe Leo's portals would be enough to make a difference in the final hour if Revali had him on his side.......

Donnie is the only one to appear right in front of a champion right in the middle of Zora's Domain, so there's no escaping meeting Mipha hskfhskdhsj she's very nice to him though! And he likes how thoughtful she can be and that she's not overly loud. There's also something to be said about being long ranged weapon buddies <3 it's honestly just a very nice match up that quickly comes to be built on a lot of respect for each other, and so Mipha is the one who offers to accompany Donnie out of the domain and to Kakariko Village where hopefully the researchers there will have some answers (but Donnie will have fun exploring their whole entirely new form of tech regardless hskdhskdjs and he definitely becomes close with Robbie and Purah)

Eventually everyone heads back or gets redirected to Hyrule Castle and an actual reunion can happen! As for what happens after that point.... I don't know really. The only other ideas I've tossed around are how the blight fights could potentially go if they all had a little extra help on their side. If anything, I think this crossover would be in a similar vein to hwaoc, just not as easy and without time travel forewarning hskdhskdhsj it's something to keep thinking about though! Thank you for indulging me in my ramble cause I really do have so many thoughts and ideas about this hakdhskghsj

#i had also tossed around the idea a bit of the turtles disappearing right as ganon appears and showing up again 100 years later #when link's by himself and kind of guiding him while there even though he doesn't remember much of them #and idk i probably could do something with them confronting all the failure in the world they weren't even there for #and assisting link with the divine beasts to help everyone find a sense of closure #but idk i just think i can do something better with their purpose for being there #eh I'll figure it out eventually hsjdhskdjs #ANYWAYS if you made it to the end of all this thank you for listening and feel free to ask more questions <3333 #loveeee getting to talk about this idea :) #rottmnt #breath of the wild #asks? #jastertown