Shining-Zephyr

Prologue: Day and Age --- “If you’re going through hell, keep going.” Winston Churchill. --- October 2009. Nighttime. It was impossible to say how many there were; too many to count, to be honest. All he knew was that he had to keep his family safe, the city protected. It was his duty and his job, his call to being a hero in the eyes of many and a menace to those who mattered. He could not fend off all of them, though, and he blearily recognized this fact as he warded off another energy blast in his direction. Too many coming. One of him. They must have realized this and plotted an attack. Or that crazy fruit loop put

It was funny because it was true. You could ask him how many times he woke up from the nightmares. How many times he’d walked outside in the middle of the night just to clear his head… and got to see the Aurora Borealis on a stroke of luck. How often he fed the huskies, played with the dogs, participated in the races even. He could talk about how many men he’d killed, what other missions he participated in, and when the last time was when he actually had a good puff of a cigarette and not something shitty from the gas station a mile away. But what he couldn’t really answer, or talk about… was the woman layin

Spencer can't think of how many times he's wanted to just- nuzzle Aaron's beard. Ever since he came back from Pakistan, he's dreamt about his boyfriend's face with that scruff. Taking down UnSubs. Kevlar. Just talking in general, all in casual attire, but completely professional. But because of Emily's return, the lies, the lack of communication between one another, and the silent anger of not being told the real story… well. There wasn't a chance to really touch it. Only now as Spencer gazed at his sleeping lover did he stroke his cheek with a wistful sigh and a murmur. "I wish you would never shave so I could just nuzzle and kiss th

75. Mirror Every time he looks in the mirror, he sees himself. Not ghost; human. Danny Fenton sees who everyone else believes he is. He wonders why he was chosen to save the city. Save the world. Save space and time itself from the evils of the universe. Danny squints, staring at his reflection. It's morphing suddenly, and he can feel his stomach clenching. When it finally stops changing, he stares. His head begins spinning at the sight, gripping the sink edges. Dark Phantom laughs. "Tell me something, Daniel. Have you ever danced with the devil in the pale moonlight?"

Some say the youngest people have the strongest minds. That nothing can break a young person's spirit. The same can be applied to Spencer Reid as he steals a glance at Emily Prentiss across the room. He's been watching her. Listening to her ever since she's come back from being dead and gone. Constantly being given the look of longing and want from many women, her included. When everyone leaves the room finally after a long case, they're the only two left. Alone and Emily about to follow after them all. About to follow Dave, Hotch, Jennifer back to the hotel and just... leave Spencer alone. And then, she hears it. "Hey Emily?" She turns

Trench coat? Check. Wallet? Check. Credentials? Check. Snow? Unfortunately, check. Aaron shivered, pushing open the doors to the federal building and walking outside into the cool October afternoon. His hands shoved into his pockets, he looked as innocent as a passerby and broody as a federal agent with that glint in his chocolate eyes. One would think he was single, that he really needed to get laid. Maybe grab a drink at the bar or have a night out with some friends. They wouldn’t think that he got all that and a hell of a lot more than he thought he ever deserved; that he had a boyfriend, that he got laid almost every night, that h

At this point, he was just standing there and staring at the undead figure in front of him. And somehow, he didn't care that he only had one clip of ammunition left. It didn't matter that his friends were trying to find them both; that they wouldn't be able to. It just didn't matter anymore. Chris fired twelve shots towards his smirking face, leaping for him and snarling. A total of two weeks had all come down to this—his house, facing the ghost of a man who should have died. He didn't see the hand smashing through his body.

What a crock of shit. They said I wouldn't be able to feel anything. None of the pain, none of the pleasure, nothing of the sort when they said they'd be able to use my body to help in science. They claimed I'd be in good hands. I don't know why the hell I bothered to believe them, coming from the US government and everything. Maybe for once, I though something good could come out of this. I was trying to be mature, optimistic. Why do I even bother? "STOP! PLEASE, STOP!" The scalpel plunged into my skin again, cutting through another layer of tissue as he took hold of a flap of skin. With a harsh pull, there was a rather horrifying tearin

“You should have made the deal.” The words continued to haunt him as he lay in bed that night. He would close his eyes and see his face towering over him, as if he was sitting on top of him again. He’d open them, the words would echo in his head. Something was wrong with him, thinking about Foyet the entire time. It wasn’t even close to the anniversary of her death, and that was the worst part. It was for no apparent reason right then—just late night thoughts about some of his old cases. Aaron lay sprawled on the bed and jerked slightly when hearing the door knock. Sitting up, he looked at the clock and grimace

Trench coat? Check. Wallet? Check. Credentials? Check. Snow? Unfortunately, check. Aaron shivered, pushing open the doors to the federal building and walking outside into the cool October afternoon. His hands shoved into his pockets, he looked as innocent as a passerby and broody as a federal agent with that glint in his chocolate eyes. One would think he was single, that he really needed to get laid. Maybe grab a drink at the bar or have a night out with some friends. They wouldn’t think that he got all that and a hell of a lot more than he thought he ever deserved; that he had a boyfriend, that he got laid almost every night, that h

WARNING: Hotch/Reid implied. Don't like slash, don't read. Aaron, come on. It's not too bad. Aaron just glared at Foyet tiredly. He was sick of this crap. Tired of the ghost bothering him every which way he could, sick of anything and everything he threw at the agent. He was drained. Totally drained. "...fuck. Off," he muttered tightly. "Not- not really..." Foyet laughed, sliding behind him slightly and resting on the back of the sofa. Not really what? You too exhausted to realize I figured out a way to trigger the pain? Or what? Too exhausted to... "That's enough." Foyet glanced up from the exhausted FBI agent with a slight grin. A

Two lives, two hearts joined together in friendship; united forever in love. Source Unknown All he had wanted to do was to get undressed and go back out into the kitchen. A simple task that any normal FBI profiler would be able to do within a couple of minutes. But for Aaron, he was hardly normal now. He had entered his bedroom, telling Spencer he’d be right back. He’d needed to change into something more comfortable for that night. There had been a simple request to come over, and within twenty minutes, it had become something a lot more than that. There were movies, dinner, and soon cuddles to be had. At least, if he could es

Some people want it to happen, some wish it would happen, others make it happen. ~Michael Jordan ---- "Well that went rather well, don't you think?" Aaron glanced over at his companion and gave him a sort of half-smile, Spencer's eagerness beginning to peak through. They stood on the steps of the police department, the last two to head out to the airport. Nighttime had fallen on Phoenix, Arizona, stars beginning to dot the sky and the young genius looking up at them with utter awe. Frankly, Aaron couldn't blame him. Back in Virginia, one had to go out into the countryside to see some good stars. "It did. We saved her, caught the UnSub