#yeah I didn't include grace

[hazellvsq]

pjo yellowjackets au. reyna’s the captain. annabeth’s the hunter. piper’s the butcher. rachel’s the prophet. hazel keeps inconceivably avoiding death. thalia's the would-be pilot. bianca's the coach's daughter. and meg mccaffery has an axe <3

#i didn't forget that thalia's afraid of heights or that piper's a vegetarian. they're surprise tools that will help us later #piper's insecurity about appearing useless outweighing her lifelong revulsion about the smell of dead animals: #yeah i'll chop up a deer. hope this doesn't awaken anything in me. #yes i am writing this no i will not ever finish it #also idgaf about trials of apollo but meg and lester as misty and ben was making me laugh so i'm including meg #i didnt forget about calypso either she has a special secret role (its her cabin they find) #annabeth chase #piper mclean #reyna avila ramirez arellano #hazel levesque #bianca di angelo #rachel dare #thalia grace #meg mccaffrey

[oncomingnight]

Yandere! boyfriend x fem reader

Malik is the sweetest guy you've ever come across and his charisma doesn't even come at a cost. You've never met anyone, no matter the gender, that was as attentive and humorous as him. Malik could care less if he's making himself look like a fool as long as he's graced with the presence of your heartwarming smile. His humor consists of material you'd only ever expect to hear out of the mouth of a teenage boy which is what makes his jokes so much funnier.

He doesn't need an international holiday in order to spoil you with stuffed animals, sweets and handwritten letters, he already gifts you all those things for the simple fact that he wants to. Malik is always showing up to your shared apartment with a bouquet of flowers in hand as he feels like the worst man to ever walk the Earth if he does otherwise.

Letting you pay for yourself is something he'll never allow you to do, as long as he's with you of course. He can't exactly stop you from doing so if he's not physically next to you (rare occurrence)but he has his own way of handling that issue. He'll notice if you seemed to have purchased something with your own money while he wasn't around, and immediately reach into his pocket in an effort to pay you back.

"You look so pretty, baby. Is that a new lipgloss?" "Yeah it is, I bought it when we were at the market the other day!" "Oh yeah? How much was it, baby? I'll give you your money back, just let me know if you want something next time, okay? I don't care if I look like I'm busy with something else, I have all the time in the world when it comes to you."

While we're on the topic of time I think this is the perfect moment to mention the fact that Malik is extremely possessive over not only you but also your time. Nothing gets him more upset than when the two of you are out together at a public setting and your friends attempt at pulling all of your attention away from him. In reality, your friends are simply making conversation with you and they actually make several attempts at including him in the conversation. This, however, doesn't matter to Malik one bit, he can see right through their 'good people' personas.

Malik practically battles with other people when it comes to having your full attention on him. It's not even a case where you're not appreciating how greatly he treats you, no. He is the one who is urging himself to be the absolute best for you before someone attempts at lifting you off of your feet and away from him. He finds it incredibly comedic when others attempt at acting as if they could ever understand or know you as well as he does. There have been many instances where he's gotten you the perfect gift and he just can't help but look on at the other party attendees with pity, as they all now know that you won't be as satisfied with their presents.

Is Malik a possessive boyfriend (soon to be husband)? Yes. Although, this doesn't mean he won't allow you to have girl trips/sleepovers. If you're having a girls trip in an area with a completely different time zone, this will not prevent Malik from staying up as late and early as he needs in order to call and wish you a good morning.

He will keep you on the phone for extremely extended amounts of time (not that you mind). Your friends could try their absolute hardest at being irritated towards his constant need to be near you and to call you but they just can't. Malik is so sickeningly sweet to you that they'd be seen as bitter people that are just jealous due to the fact they've never been as loved and cared for as you are now.

Malik didn't exactly grow up in the most accepting house hold, even as a child, he felt as though he was constantly walking on eggshells with his parents. His parents were raised with extremely aggressive religious views that would quite obviously intimidate the average person, this caused him to be raised in an environment where even cartoons most people deemed as 'kid friendly' were forbidden. Anything that wasn't blatantly religious was seen as unholy, his parents wanted him to uphold the stereotypical attitude of toxic manhood that even him doing simple acts of skincare were seen as something to 'look out for'.

This extremely damaged environment he was raised in just may be the reason as to why he doesn't speak to his family anymore and why he loves so ferociously, like a rabid animal. I don't know though, it's not like I make the rules or anything.

He absolutely adores doing anything and everything romantic with you, especially within the comfort of your own home. When the holidays roll around, there's nothing he loves more than brewing up two cups of iced coffee, sporting matching onesies, baking Christmas cookies and lighting up the fire place as the moon shines into your shared bedroom window.

Well, there is one thing he loves more than all of that.

That's you.

Edit: credit to @cafekitsune for the divider ♡

#yandere headcanons #yandere oc #yandere oc x y/n #yandere x you #yandere oneshot #yandere #yandere oc x reader #obsessive love #yandere oc x you #obsessive yandere #yancore #yandere male #male x reader #male yandere #male yandere x reader #male oc

[glitchtricks94]

TWST Guys Bringing You Home!: Heartslabyul Edition

Welcome to part one, I'm planning on writing all the dorms + Idia. Ortho will just be included with him, personally, since Ortho is too adorable to ever defile in any manner outside of being a cute little brother. Headcannons, headcannons, headcannons! Let's start this off with some cottoncandy fluff, shall we? Not gonna lie, I felt like a mom gushing about all her chaos children over tea writing this. I hope you enjoy these headcannons, and let me know your thoughts. I love interaction and would love to hold a conversation with you guys. Anyways, sit back, relax and have fun. -Glitchtricks Word count: 4k

Ace Trappola

Oh, this is such a delight to see. Little Ace is in love! Ace is super awkward and very defensive, and yet somehow little ol' you broke down all those walls of arrogance and faux confidence, such a special darling you are. So, how would he be if he decided to bring you home to meet his family?

Two words: Nervous. Wreck. Ace is a disaster before bringing you home to meet his brother and father; he's sweating, internally screaming, his anxiety is spiked, and you have to handle everything with your usual grace. Ace has some bad anxiety, which he confided that he coped with it by being all snarky with everyone, i.e. being a dick way too often. You didn't mind though, but you did gently encourage him to come to you if he felt too overwhelmed by everything, just in case he needed to vent. How sweet! There was a lot of texting back and forth, nights cuddling on your near dinosaur era furnishings of Ramshackle, and plenty of kisses on his temples, Ace had calmed down enough to not feel like an anchor was being dropped on his chest at the thought of bringing you home. He was ready to announce you as his to his family!

Oh dear, sweet Seven, he couldn't have predicted any of what happened... First, his brother decided to do the worst thing ever and brought up Ace's old view on dating and how his first girlfriend got ghosted. Ace wanted to die then and there, even being collared by Riddle was more tolerable than this hell... "Hey, (Y/N), you know my baby bro here had a gal before you, right?" "Oh? He did?" You said, your pretty eyes widening. "He's never mentioned her before..." "Dude, please, don't...!" Ace quietly pleaded, humiliation seeping in like a cold rain. "Yeah, he went out a few times with this one girl in middle school. She'd always go to amusement parks with him and stuff, topping it off with a Ferris wheel, but he ghosted her." Ace's brother continued, sipping on his tea. "And why's that?" You prodded, sipping your own tea as you shot a small glare at your boyfriend. You shared stories of your exes, but why didn't he? Did he not trust you? You didn't know whether you should feel hurt, or pissed. You chose to feel pissed. "Got bored, 'cording to him, she was just bland beyond her coffee tastes and liked a lot of stuff that just didn't click with him. She was pretty, but had as much depth as a piece of paper." The elder Trappola explained. "Her friends called him out for his shit, and he swore off dating, too much of a hassle in his opinion, so I'm surprised he decided to go out with you, much less bring you home." "I see." You hummed. Ace knew he was in the dog house and was now preparing to ask Sam if he sold flowers and romance stuff to try and make it up to you when you both got back to Night Raven.

Well, at least pop likes you! Can't wait to have you as an in-law! During dinner, Ace's dad smiled and chatted all about his boys, saying how proud he was of Ace for bringing home such a sweetheart like you! You ended up forgetting the upsetting conversation from earlier given how jovial Mr. Trappola was, he was like that one cool uncle that was trusted with looking after the baby, or that one cool barbeque dad your friends might have. Card tricks were shared, food was eaten and conversation was exchanged, if at a little of your boyfriend's expense. Funny stories were shared, like that one time he accidentally hit his brother in the groin with a bat as a kid when he came home for the holidays, or that time Ace got pranked by his dad with a classic; pouring soap on his head while he was rinsing out his own lather. "My hair was never as silky as it was after that." Ace laughed, starting to loosen up as he threw his arm around your shoulder. You leaned over and pecked his cheek, making both your faces bloom red as you both grinned happily. Overall, you're basically already known as the best in-law ever even before Ace put a ring on it. He's already planning how to ask a few years down the line, though~!

Deuce Spade

Another cute boy, who's mildly awkward when in love. Oh, how sweet! He took a lot of time learning how to properly approach you. didn't he? Deuce is beaming with pride having you on his arm, smiling that cute little boy smile he shows off when he's excited. He loves holding your hand in his as you stroll about the rose gardens of Heartslabyul. You knew he was close to his mom, having ditched his old delinquent days after hearing her crying on the phone to his grandmother, and he often talked about you to her, sometimes while you were sitting right there! Oh, how your cheeks reddened hearing him spout compliments about you to his mother. Both you and Deuce were arranging to meet his mom and grandma, in fact Deuce wanted to introduce you as soon as possible! You're one of the most important people in his life, so he wanted to share you with his familial circle asap. So, how does this all go?

Oh, honey, grandma practically fell in love with you on first sight. You met Deuce's grandma and mom at the same time, the two sitting at the dining room table in Ms. Spade's home, sipping away on their tea. It was a little awkward with Ms. Spade, but granny practically pounced on you when Deuce said you were his significant other. She was just smiling up at you, going on about how much of a cutie you were the whole while. It was quite nice, talking over tea, Deuce smiling happily as he had an arm respectfully wrapped around your waist. Needless to say, mom relaxed a bit seeing how her mother was reacting alongside her baby boy.

Deuce didn't know why he didn't expect the baby pictures to be brought out... Baby books, baby books and more baby books. You were surprised by the sheer amount that Deuce's mother loved to do scrapbooking, it was like there was a mountain of baby books from when your sweet card soldier was growing up! There had to be about six books sitting on the coffee table. Everyone had gathered into the living room after tea, Ms. Spade excitedly flitting about the place like a child on sugar, gathering all these books to stack, Deuce slowly turning red seeing his old baby books being yanked out again. You sat next to Deuce, holding his hand with your fingers interlaced. "Here's when Deuce was two, he always played with his food, he was such a messy baby!" Ms. Spade gushed, showing off a picture of baby Deuce smiling up at the camera; baby food was smeared all over his smiling face, his hands caked in the stuff and the bowl on his little head, his pretty jade colored orbs shimmering with joy. "His little smile is infectious!" You chirped, smiling warmly at the picture of your darling boyfriend. Deuce buried his head in your hair, hiding from his embarrassment.

Deuce felt like melting into your embrace at this point. You made his night. After a fun dinner filled with embarrassing stories from when Deuce was young, warm hearty laughter and sweet gazes exchanged with your boyfriend, the two of you settled into bed, you sneaking out of the guest room grandma insisted you stay in to steal some kisses and snuggles. You settled into Deuce's arms as he kissed your rosy cheeks, tangling your legs with his under the covers. Looking into his eyes, you've never seen him look so happy since he got an 86 on his history exam. "I love you so much, baby." Deuce whispered sweetly, your heart fluttering in your chest. "I love you too, honey." You replied, your own voice laced with the sugar of your love for the jade eyed boy. "I wanna say thanks for coming with me to meet my mom and grandmother, it meant a lot to me." "Deucey, it's no trouble!" You chirped softly, smiling up at your lover. "I'm just happy they like me." "They love you, you fit perfectly into the family!" Deuce laughed, his shoulders shaking. "It's honestly a relief that you get along, I was scared things would go wrong. But, I guess I panicked for nothing." The navy haired first year continued, turning to gaze at you with so, so much love. "You're perfect after all." Deuce was gonna be the death of you, he was always so sweet. You could mark this day as a sweet, sweet success: Your boyfriend was happy, grandma loves you, mom thinks you're perfect for her son, and everything felt like utter bliss. So, without saying another word, you sealed your night with Deuce with a kiss...~

Cater Diamond

Cater being in love honestly isn't surprising; being in love is such brand booster! Cute Magicam couples? Yes please! Being real though, Cater's honestly a major handful for you, because under that cheery "Caycay is gonna slayslay" vibe that the 3rd year carries, he's honestly a complete wreck and is terrified that you'll get tired of his anticks. Shocking how he and Azul aren't besties in that regard. However, he had no need to fear! The marvelous S/O was here to save the day: Cuddles, kisses, spicy ramen and at home spa treatments were being rapid fired from your heart to claim Cater's love and destroy his anxiety! So, with the day saved, you and your lovely boyfriend could be free to talk about a tough topic; when are you gonna meet his family? Cater ended up laughing at your question and told you to start packing your bag, he's going to talk Crowley into letting you have a weekend getaway! Even if he disliked his sisters!

Already he was regretting life... Cater's sisters immediately burst out to greet their baby brother after his mom called, and the first thing they do? Tell you that your shirt is super not cute and Cater should go buy you another one. "It's what a good boyfriend would do!" The eldest sister said, folding her arms over her chest. "Yeah! It's what our boyfriends did!" His other sister chimed in. Cater was here less than five seconds and already he felt like blowing a gasket... "But this is my favorite shirt. That I bought myself." You said, crossing your arms over your chest. "You don't get to tell me what to wear, so shush." "Way to stand up for yourself, honey bunny~!" Cater chirped, smiling at you as he led you inside with an arm around your waist. The ginger boy swore he fell even harder than when he first started dating you in that moment.

Cater was internally screaming at how his sisters acted and just wanted to go home. Oh, and mom didn't really like you, so there's that. The room was a bit tense as you sat and shared tea and some lightly burned pastries made by Cater's sisters. Cater himself was suffering the overly sweet baked goods and planned to just spend the after noon there. "So, how did you and my son meet?" Mrs. Diamond asked, eying you with a sharpened gaze. "Oh, I met him at Night Raven. My friend had gotten into a predicament and I ran into him while he was painting his dorm's roses!" You explained, a warm smile coming to your face as your boyfriend started to blush softly. "He was so cute and charming, still is, honestly." "Awww, babes, stop!" Cater giggled, nuzzling your cheek against his, making you laugh in turn. "I see." His mother huffed. The rest of the time was awkward to say the least.

You could tell your boyfriend could finally breathe after you left the house. Dad wasn't around that day, bit too busy with his banking job, so you didn't get to meet him; not that you really cared, Cater's sisters ruined a good chunk of the afternoon and made your poor honey work himself to the bone! Cater dropped the cheap, fake smile on his face when you both made it out of the house, his anger flaring up as he started muttering various rants under his breath. "Caycay, do you wanna get some lunch? There's a nice ramen place we could go to." You gently suggested, wanting to make your sweetheart feel better and ease his stresses. "It's that reaaally nice one you saw on Magicam the other day. The one that Vil praised" "That...That sounds wonderful honey bunny." Cater sighed, looking at you with a tired grin. Without much thought, you pressed a kiss to his cheek, making his heart flutter. So over lunch, you both came to terms that the fam might not dig on you, but that didn't matter to you or Cater. You had each other, and that's what mattered most to you two lovebirds.

Trey Clover

You have such a good man on your hands, even if he's a touch shy with his affections. When you first broached the topic of meeting his family, Trey was taken aback. He adored you to no end, and he could see a future with you, even if it'd be long distance for a few years, why hadn't he thought of showing you off to his family? "Of course I'll introduce you, darling." He said with a warm smile, leaning down to press a peck on your cheek, "How about we visit this upcoming weekend? I'm sure Riddle can hold it together long enough."

It was a really sweet reception when you showed up. Trey's parents were told about you ahead of time by their eldest, given how he's the responsible boy he is, so you were greeted by a small banner and a custom cupcake in your favorite flavors. The banner that was hung read "welcome home!" in bold, glittering rainbow letters; it tickled you pink! You felt at home already when Trey walked you up to the bakery, and the feeling intensified when his little siblings ran over, cheering over their big brother being home and asking if you were the person mom and dad talked about on the phone with Trey. Already you loved Trey's family, they were adorable in your eyes! "I hope you're ready for the insanity that's my family." Trey playfully remarked, pulling laughter from everyone around him. You hugged your boyfriend with a smile on your face. "I look forward to every minute we stay here."

Trey loved baking alongside you, but you and his family? Talk about heaven! Trey had to help out in the family business still, given his parents ran a bakery that had opened for lunch, so alongside the sweet smells of cake, the occasional smell of crisping pepperonis and melting cheese filled your senses. You found it odd at first, but your boyfriend's father swiftly explained that a demand for some more dinner and lunch friendly goods should be offered and they complied, if only a touch. You were surprised by how willing Trey's parents were when offering your help to ease the rush, helping your darling make and top some sugar cookies with oversized chocolate chips. You ended up swiping kisses from your boyfriend while his mom worked the front of house and his dad prepared the pizzas to be sent out. It seemed the more homely setting brought out the more affectionate side of your lover; small coos of adoration left his lips, tiny kisses peppered your cheeks, and skin to skin contact was through the roof as he guided you by taking your hands into his. It was all so romantic and sweet.

It had to be a bittersweet departure after your little weekend of fun was over, but everyone loved you. You had your bags packed back up with Trey, the luggage sitting in the foyer as you ate a delightful breakfast, feeling right at home as you sat next to your beloved. Trey was holding your hand under the table as you two dug into the fluffy blueberry pancakes his mom and dad had made for everyone, one of his little brothers quickly getting your attention. "(Y/N)?" The little boy called out quietly. "Yes, little one?" You asked, your voice a soft coo. The 3rd year glanced over at you as you interacted with his baby brother, watching carefully. "Will you come back with our big brother again soon?" "Well, that depends on both me and your big brother, dear. I'd love to, though!" You replied, flashing a smile to the little guy, who hugged you. "I'm gonna miss you..." He whined. "Me two!" Trey's sister piped up. "Me thwee!" The youngest chimed in, Trey and his parents chuckling at your interactions. "You have quite the partner here, Trey." His father spoke, looking at his son in pride. "You really do, sweetie, you better try and hold onto them!" Trey's mother spoke, smiling warmly. "They're a keeper!" "I know." Trey replied, looking at you now hugging his younger siblings, warmth bubbling in his chest. "I plan to treat them right." Overall, you had a new home in the Clover family, and your boyfriend's thinking of ways to properly propose to you after the trip. Never hurts to plan it out!

Riddle Rosehearts

Oh god, oh no, this one hurts. This will never ever end well if he picks the S/O... You knew Riddle had some problems he was trying to work through, you understood, truly! And Riddle was eternally grateful for your presence and influence in his life, you had to be the best thing to ever happen to him! You were his angel sent from the stars. Which is why he dreaded introducing you to his mother. He knew his father would've been okay, and he honestly has zero issues showing you off to him! If he was actually at home that is...He was currently abroad when Riddle accidentally let it slip that he was dating. So, in came the demands to meet you to make sure you were good enough for her baby, and the news that you two were going to his house for dinner.

You both had pits in your stomachs when you showed up to the Rosehearts household... You were greeted by the intimidating visage of Riddle's mother, who was standing in the yard with her arms folded tightly over her chest, her eyes boring into you. "Hello, mother." Riddled greeted, closing himself off to your presence and tensing up, his shoulders stiff; a telltale sign that he was stressed. You had to bite back the urge to coo and coddle him like you normally did when he was upset. "Riddle." His mother hummed looking at you with disdain. "Why is your...companion here dressed like that?" She asked sharply, making you feel embarrassed. You had asked Rook of all people to style you, but it appears it's simply not up to par with the impossible standard's Mrs. Rosehearts held. "We had asked one of our fellow classmates to dress them in the finest clothes they had available." Riddle spoke. Riddle's mother tsked. "I thought that I raised you better than this, they look terribly tacky, and I thought you would've had better tastes. Come. Dinner is waiting now." Riddle clenched his fists, feeling sorrow well up in his chest as he looked at you apologetically. You rushed forward, hugging Riddle from behind and kissing his cheek to reassure him. It was still quite the sting hearing his mother act so harsh, though.

Dinner wasn't much better either... You made sure to study proper etiquette with Riddle before you came here, but none of that seemed to matter as you choked down the bland food. Seriously, who doesn't bother to season meet and just serve nothing but tomatoes, onions and iceberg lettuce for a salad...? You tried your best, but Mrs. Rosehearts just eyed you in disgust, biting her tongue but looking at Riddle with a disappointed gaze. Riddle himself couldn't tell if sorrow or anger was bubbling up in his chest. You explained you were from another world when she asked where you were from and she looked at you like you just spat on her when you told her you were magicless; despite her already knowing that. She made Riddle tell her about you after making him nearly break down in tears over the phone last night. "Pathetic! I raised my son better than this, and yet you're barely passing, have no magic, and carry no knowledge of anything worthwhile! You're nothing but a waste of his time and my own!" The harpy of a woman shrieked. Oh, that was it, he picked his side of the fence...

Riddle felt a cord finally snap as all of his years of strict, lonely suffering drove him forward. "Why can't you just be happy that I finally found someone, mother?" Riddle hissed, catching the attention of his present parent. "Because, your selection was terrible! I could pick you a much better partner." Mrs. Rosehearts said, you feeling like you could start crying. "No! I-I don't want anyone else, much less an arrangement where I'll feel nothing for the other party!" Riddle barked angrily, slamming his fist on the table as he stood up. "I want who I fell in love with! I want my rose! I want to stay with (Y/N)!" "When will you see that you're worth more than them?!" "They've been nothing short of an angel to me, fixing the damage you caused!" Riddle yelled, his face bright red from anger. "They're worth far more than me from where I stand!" "Then you can just take that garbage and get them out of this house, you and I will start studying to find you a suitable-" "If they leave, I'm leaving with them, in fact, that's a wonderful idea!" Riddle bellowed, you looking up at him and rising from your seat. Rushing to his side, you tugged him out of the house as Riddle's mother screamed at you two from the kitchen and out the door, Riddle yelling that she won't take you away; he's had so much stripped from him, he refuses to lose you. This entire situation was a disaster, but you knew your precious prince loved you so dearly. Once you two made it back to his dorm, Riddle looked exhausted. You asked him what you could do to ease his struggles after he changed into his pajamas. "My rose, tonight, I just want to forget everything, rules and all..." Riddle whined, looking at you with tired slate grey orbs. "I just want to hold you in my arms and wake up to your face..." "Of course, my love." You cooed softly, kissing his cheeks as you both crawled under the covers of his bed, Riddle curling into your form instantly. Under the warmth of the duvet, everything felt right; you were his and he was yours, and no tyrant was ever going to rip you apart. Riddle had proven his iron clad love belonged to you and you alone.

#twisted wonderland x reader #heartslabyul #ace trappola x reader #deuce spade x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #trey clover x reader #cater diamond x reader #heartslaybul x reader #ace trappola #deuce spade #cater diamond #trey clover #riddle rosehearts #twst headcanons

[confused-pyramid]

One Step From Grace | s4

pairing: aaron hotchner x childhood bsf!reader

summary: Hotch and his childhood best friend working together at the BAU: a slow burn across the seasons.

word count: 19.2k

warnings: canon!typical violence, mentions of abuse, mentions of death, abortion mention, implied SA, gun violence, specific episodes mentioned in this part are 4x01, 4x02, 4x03, 4x09, 4x11, 4x16, 4x17, 4x18, 4x23, and 4x26

a/n: Some more tension in the slow burn! I included some more specific episode details in this one, because some of the eps and characters are important to future seasons :') P.S. I love hearing all of your thoughts and comments (it's honestly what makes all of this worth it) so lmk what you think:) Title is from Grace by Rag 'n Bone Man

series masterlist

"Garcia, is everyone okay?"

You can hear the sound of sirens blazing down the street a few blocks away from you, but you're too far away to make it there in time.

"Oh, thank god, you're alright," she gasps over the phone, her voice thick with tears. "Rossi and Reid called me just now, and Derek's on the line."

He greets you with a frantic urgency. "Hey, Y/N, I'm heading to the explosion site to see what happened."

"Okay, sounds good, keep calling people," you instruct Garcia, before swerving across the lanes and turning at the next intersection.

She calls Emily, who tells you that she's also going to the NYPD's critical incident command posts. When she tries JJ, the call doesn't go through, and then suddenly the line goes quiet.

"Garcia?" you call into the void. "Penelope, are you there? Derek? Emily?" No one responds, and your heart rate spikes again as you pull over in front of the command center and rush inside.

Rossi and Reid envelope you in big hugs when you find them in the main bullpen, and soon after, Emily and JJ join you inside.

"Do we know what happened?" you ask them as you crowd around the city map where Reid pinpointed all the prior crime scenes. "What street was the explosion on?"

Reid opens his mouth to answer, when Emily's phone rings. "Yeah, Garcia, I'm back. JJ's here too."

She listens for a few seconds, before her eyes widen and she glances over at you. Lifting the phone from her ear, she puts it on speaker and says, "Can you repeat all of that?"

"Derek's chasing after the bomber," Penelope says, her breaths coming out in short spurts. "The bomb... it was in Kate's SUV, or under it. Hotch is out there with her."

Your heart stutters and you press your palms against the back of the chair in front of you, leaning over it to get closer to the phone. "Is he okay?" You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment. "Are they okay?"

"He seems okay, but she looks really hurt. He hasn't moved her."

You release the breath you didn't realize you were holding and stand up straight, turning around to catch your breath. If something had happened to him...something irreversible...you don't know what you would've done. Especially after the last thing you said to him.

It's not your place to have this discussion.

Screw you.

"Where was Kate's SUV parked?" Rossi asks from behind you as you rub your eyes and turn back to face Emily's phone.

"2 blocks East of Federal Plaza."

***

You keep picturing the security camera feed of his SUV blowing up as you rush into St. Barclay's hospital. The moment Morgan called with the update that Hotch was taking Kate there in an ambulance, you all piled into an SUV and drove straight over.

You know Garcia and Morgan said he was fine, but not all injuries are visible. You're the first person inside, and you rush down the hallways until you spot a nurse in the ER. After you flash your badge, she points you to the curtains behind her.

When you push past them, he's standing up, working on the last few buttons of his shirt. His face is covered with tiny abrasions, and there's a piece of gauze stuck to his right ear.

"Aaron," you whisper, not wanting to startle him. He looks up as he grabs his tie out of the bag they put his clothes in. "Let me do that."

You take the tie from him as he sighs and closes his eyes for a long moment. It's silky against your fingers as you loop it around his neck and slide it under his collar.

"How are you feeling?" you ask him, trying to keep your voice soft.

He dips his chin to meet your eye and he squints as he shakes his head. "I'm fine, but Kate's in surgery. It didn't look good."

"I'm sorry," you whisper, forgetting about any prior gripes you had with her. "I'm sure she'll pull through."

He purses his lips and nods, just as the rest of the team pushes past the curtain. You step back quickly without thinking, and you don't miss the flash of confusion in his eyes before he turns to Morgan for the latest update on the bomber.

You swallow thickly as you look at your feet, letting everyone else walk around you. You don't know why you stepped back. Maybe it's the freshness of his divorce. Maybe it's the way Agent Calvert from the Portland office looked over your shoulder after you told him you weren't ready for dating again.

Whatever it was, you know you hated how it felt.

***

"There's a bomb on the ambulance."

Fear spikes through him as he turns around. "The ambulance which I drove in here." This day has already been longer than any of them expected it to be, but each passing minute seems to bring another surprise.

Rossi shoots him a knowing look that he reflects. "The hospital is their target."

He glances at you and you look back at him, your eyes filled with what he can only guess is fear. His mind flashes back to your interaction earlier, but he pushes it out of his brain as he realizes that they are down a man. "Where did Morgan go?"

Emily turns back. "He went to find the ambulance."

"Alone?" you gape at her, reaching for the gun in your holster.

He figures they only have a few minutes before the cell signal returns, so he grabs his own gun and nods. "Let's head down."

The ambulance is gone when they find the bomber in the parking garage, holding a knife to his throat. Before any of you can approach him, he slits his own throat. He can't help the grimace of disgust that crosses his face as the terrorist falls to the ground.

Once the immediate danger to the hospital is alleviated, everyone starts to relax. The rest of the team stays behind to clear the scene as he sprints up to the seemingly empty surgical ward. He finds the operating room that Kate was supposed to be in, but when he pushes through the doors, all he sees is a few janitors mopping the blood off the floor.

"What happened?" he gasps out. "Where's the surgeon."

A man in a blue scrub cap comes forward and pats his shoulder, a resigned look on his face. "We did all that we could. I'm so sorry."

All of the momentum leaves his body as he releases his breath, his shoulders deflating along with it like a circus balloon. The surgeon leaves the room and he looks down at her blood seeping down the floor drain. He watches as it mixes in with the cleaning fluids, and he can't help but wish that her death could've been less painful.

***

You wait outside the hotel the next morning, your go-bag hanging heavily off your shoulder. When the doctors told Hotch he wasn't cleared to fly yet, you told the NY agent assigned to drive him that you could take over.

"What are you still doing here?"

You turn around to see Hotch walking out of the hotel, the bag in his left hand evening out his gait after the explosion gave him a temporary limp.

You smile, pushing your sunglasses down from your head. "I'm your ride."

His eyes twinkle in the bright sunlight. "You really didn't have to. The flight is much quicker."

"It's okay," you shrug, before grinning. "Besides, I would never pass up an opportunity to annoy you for three hours."

That makes him laugh, before he winces slightly. Got it. No jokes.

He doesn't complain as you take the driver's seat, and that's when it hits you how much pain he must be in. For as long as he's had his license, he has preferred to be the one driving, sometimes even when he's in your car.

The first few minutes of the drive are quiet, but eventually you need to fill the silence. "I'm really sorry about Kate."

"Thank you," he sighs, his eyes squinting at the sun as you pull onto the highway. "I've known her for a long time." He exhales sharply. "Knew her."

You remember him telling you about a case he worked, years ago, that took him to Scotland Yard. He had sounded almost excited as he recounted the differences in how the British government handled procedure, but he had kept one thing to himself.

"You never told me about her," you say gently, trying to keep the blame out of your voice. You're not angry, you just don't understand why it would have been a secret.

He turns his head to gaze out the window for a few moments, before he looks back at you. "I wasn't sure about how that case would go when I agreed to take a look, but we ended up working really well together. I had spoken to her a few times before, mostly over the phone, but it was our first time meeting in person. We caught the guy we were looking for in just a few days, so before I left, she invited me to join her team for dinner."

You can guess where this is going, but you let him finish, in case you're wrong.

"When she dropped me off at my hotel that night, she made a... suggestive remark that I would've ignored if the implication hadn't been so clear. I shut it down immediately, but I didn't tell Haley when I got back, and I guess I just felt so guilty about it that I couldn't bring myself to tell you either."

Hotch feeling guilty about something. There's a shocker.

You glance over at him with a small smile. "I get it."

The "Welcome to New Jersey" sign flies past as you cross the bridge, and you both sit in comfortable silence as the sun glints off the water and reflects onto the cars around you. You see him looking out the window, and you wonder if he's thinking about Haley again, but then he turns to you with a curious expression. "The unit chief job here is yours if you want it."

Do you want it? You know you like leadership, and you would be lying if you said you hadn't thought about the possibility of moving up the ladder at some point, but now that you're confronted with the opportunity, it doesn't feel how you thought it would.

The thought of leaving this team, when they've become your second family, tastes bitter on your tongue. You know you could assume that other teams are like this too, but when you actually try to picture it, it doesn't feel possible.

"You can think about it," he says after a minute, "but not for long. They need a replacement ASAP."

You glance over at him and a realization clicks in your brain. "Wait, they needed your recommendation before offering me the position, didn't they?" You crack a smile. "You tryna get rid of me, boss?"

He laughs, before it turns into a small grimace from the pain. "No, of course I don't want you to leave. I just know you're destined for more than this. You could be doing so much good work, leading your own team."

The sun peeks out from behind the buildings in front of you, and you reach up to pull down the sun visor. "Maybe one day. But not today."

His eyes flit over to meet yours and you share a smile before you turn back to the wide expanse of road ahead of you.

***

You've been watching him all day. He was cleared to fly again, but you saw how pained he looked when the jet took off, and again when they exhumed Cortland's grave. The way he's been flinching back at the slightest sound, and cowering in pain after the louder screeches.

You tighten the strap of your kevlar vest and glance over at him again as he whispers something to the local sheriff on the Angel Maker copycat case. You've cornered the unsub in the latest victim's house, and Morgan got her out before she could be killed, but Emily continues to speak to the unsub through her megaphone, coaxing her out and into custody.

"It's over, Chloe," she says calmly as Morgan deposits the woman into the awaiting ambulance. "We have Faye. You have nowhere to go."

After a few moments, the front door creaks open and everyone lifts their weapons. She looks surprised when she sees the dozens of guns pointing at her, but then she lifts her own and Hotch steps in.

"Chloe, drop the gun."

The sheriff, with much less composure, jabs his weapon forward. "Damn it, lady, drop it!"

She takes a step forward and the sheriff fires, taking her down in one shot. Hotch goes down at the same time, doubling over in pain, his hands going up to cover his ears as he lets out a low groan.

As everyone else goes to Chloe, you rush to him, lifting your hands to press them over his in an attempt to help him hide from the external chatter and noises. "Aaron, it's okay, you're gonna be okay."

His body folds into yours as you wrap your arms around his head, clutching him to you, unable to help. "It's okay, it's okay."

It takes a few seconds for him to relax in your arms, and then a few more for him to remove his hands from his ears and stand up straight again.

"I'm okay," he sighs, his brow still furrowed with tension. "Thank you."

"Of course," you whisper, your chest heaving as the stress slowly seeps from your body. "You're not flying home."

He takes a deep breath before slowly dipping his chin into a nod. "It's a much longer drive. You don't have to accompany me this time."

The corner of your lip quirks up. "What makes you think I was offering?"

"Okay," he chuffs, rolling his eyes. You can still see the image of him doubling over in pain splashed across your eyelids, but you manage to push it out of your mind long enough to return his smile.

***

"Stand!"

You look up from the young girl you were interviewing with Emily and Spencer as Cyrus storms into the room with a gun, his second in command hot on his heels.

"What's going on?" Emily asks as she and Nancy Lunde, the state officer you came onto the cult compound with, stand up and approach him.

He squints, scrutinizing each of you. "We just got A very strange phone call from a news reporter. Is there anything you want to tell me, about a raid, maybe?"

You frown, genuine confusion coloring your expression as you shake your head. "We told you, we're child victim interview experts."

He takes another moment to consider your answer before nodding and instructing the man with him to lead you to the tunnels for safety while the raid continues.

You let Spencer, Emily and Nancy go ahead of you as the sounds of gunfire from the back get louder. When you reach the tunnels, they head further in to help the children take cover as Nancy turns back and gives you an earnest look. "I can talk to him."

You're shaking your head before she's done speaking. "No, you can't. It's too dangerous."

You try to grab her arm, but she rushes forward and past the small crowd of children that safely made it out of the school. You run after her as she calls out, "Mr. Cyrus, let me talk to them."

She's too close to the window. You reach forward to grab her arm and pull her back but then another round of gunshots fires off and she drops to the ground in front of you. You start to crouch down, out of the line of sight of the window, when a searing pain shoots through your abdomen. You keel over, falling forward into the wall of the chapel as you gasp out in pain.

It doesn't hurt as bad as it probably should, but the adrenaline coursing through your veins won't last forever. You press your hands against the bullet wound that ripped through the side of your abdomen, and try to calm your breathing as fear washes over you. The team knows you three are in here, they'll figure out how to get you all out.

You know the minimal loss scenario by heart, and the BAU was the one who wrote the CIRG playbook, so it's a small comfort to know that you'll be able to predict their moves. You can only hope that they will be able to predict yours just as well.

Another wave of pain shoots through your side and you grit your teeth as the adrenaline starts to wear off. They better hurry.

***

He knows he's emotionally involved. They all are, but if his people aren't the ones leading this negotiation, he won't be able to forgive himself for any outcome that doesn't end with the three of you coming out in one piece.

He's listening in as Dave speaks with Cyrus, and he can't help but notice how cavalier his tone is after his followers were just shot at. He continues to rant about the final battle he has foreseen, until Dave manages to get him back on track.

"Now, the four child services workers..." he says slowly. Hotch can hear the concern coloring his tone even as he tries to act detached.

Cyrus's voice is crisp over the line. "One of them is dead."

His heart jumps to his throat. Your face flashes in his mind and he closes his eyes as he silently begs whoever is out there for it not to be you. Not you, not Prentiss, not Reid. Please.

"Her name was Nancy Lunde."

His breath comes out like a gasp, and Dave turns to him with an equally relieved expression. He's so thankful that the guilt for wishing harm on anyone takes an extra second to take over.

But Cyrus isn't finished talking. "One of the other child service workers was shot during the same raid. Once again, by your people."

He looks up at Dave, waiting for him to ask who it was, but he doesn't have to. The next word out of Cyrus's mouth is your name, and his stomach twists with nausea and anguish even as he assures Dave that your wound has been cleaned and properly dressed.

He turns to look at the compound, as though he could see you if he squinted hard enough. Hold on, he thinks, hoping you can hear him somehow. You've always had a way of reading his mind. Please hold on.

***

You wake up on a small cot, with a woman bent over you. You hiss as she presses down the edge of the bandage on your abdomen, and you bring your chin to your chest to see the current state of your gunshot wound.

You're surprised to see the blood washed off, a clean bandage and gauze left in its place.

"You got lucky," the woman says when she realizes you're awake. "The bullet went all the way through."

"Thank you," you whisper, before turning your head to look around the room. "Where are the people I came in with?"

"I'll take you to them," she nods, reaching her hand out. You take it and let out an involuntary groan as she helps you into a standing position. You try taking a step, but another spike of pain shoots through you, so the woman latches her arm under your shoulder to help you walk.

It takes a few minutes, but eventually you get back to the main chapel, where Emily and Spencer are sitting with the rest of the followers. They turn when the doors open in front of you, and they immediately jump out of their chairs to take over for the woman helping you.

"How are you feeling?" Spencer asks, his eyebrows pinching as he looks at you.

"I'm okay," you assure him, even as your vision blurs from the pain of having to walk so far. "Can we just sit down, though?"

"Of course," Emily nods, helping you sink into a chair. "I'll get you some water."

Spencer sits down next to you when she rushes off, and you don't miss how he keeps glancing down at your stomach.

"It'll be okay, Spence." He meets your eye and you nod again. "We know the playbook. We just have to follow it."

Emily returns with a water bottle that she opens and hands to you, and you chug half of it before setting it down. Hotch, please hurry, you think, wishing he could hear you.

***

The next morning, you wake up to a knock on the front door of the compound. You peel your eyes open and try to sit up, before remembering what happened the night before. Your skin feels wet as you run your fingers against the edge of the gauze, and you look down to see that you're bleeding through the dressings.

"Emily," you whisper, pushing her shoulder gently to shake her awake. "I need you to get the first aid kit again."

You feel more blood drip down your stomach, and your vision turns hazy for a moment, like a confirmation. She walks across the room to get the kit, and you almost forget about the knock on the door, until Cyrus opens it, revealing a stone-faced Rossi.

They shake hands as Emily removes your dressings before tearing open a new packet of gauze and pressing it into your wound.

"The children," Cyrus tells him, gesturing to the crowd. He then points at the three of you. "And our guests."

Rossi meets your eyes for a split second, and you make sure to keep your expression neutral as he nods and turns back to Cyrus. You're glad it's him who came inside, and not Hotch, because even though you want nothing more than to see him right now, you also don't want him to see you like this.

Rossi tries to get him to release the children, but he ends up leaving with nothing more than a promise to send food and supplies.

***

"Prentiss, Reid, and L/N are okay," Dave says as he jogs back to the tent outside. He turns to Hotch then. "She's been shot in the abdomen. They've tried to dress her wound, but she's losing blood."

Shit. He shuts his eyes as he tries to think about what he can do from out here to speed up the playbook.

"I have a signal!" Morgan beckons them over as he lifts a few sets of headphones for them to wear. With the bug Dave left on the compound, at least they have ears on the inside. It's not all he wants, but it's something, at least.

***

"Which one of you is it?"

Cyrus storms into the basement, where Spencer and Emily are sitting next to you as you lay down on the small cot from earlier. After Emily changed your bandages, Spencer managed to convince him to let you rest away from the followers.

"Which one of you is the FBI agent?"

Spencer jumps in before you can react. "Why do you think one of us is an FBI agent?"

You haven't had the time or capacity to properly profile this man yet, so you don't know if his evasive tactic will work, but you also know he's smart enough to have thought this through.

Cyrus sighs, almost like he's disappointed. "God will forgive me for what I must do." He steps forward and points his gun at Spencer's head. You gasp, trying to keep a look of confusion on your face as you fight the urge to step in.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," Spencer says, stumbling over his words. His eyes are wide with fear, and you can't tell how much of it is real and how much is for show.

Cyrus tuts. "One of you does. Who is it?"

You open your mouth to say something, anything, to distract him, but then Emily stands up. "Me. It's me."

The moment of relief you feel when he lifts his gun from Spencer's head is gone as soon as he grabs Emily by the hair and drags her to the door. Your legs burn with the desire to leap off the cot and tackle him to the ground, but you can't move as the door shuts behind them.

***

It's almost night fall by the time Emily joins you again. You and Spencer were moved back up to the chapel after Cyrus took her away, and seeing her now, she looks awful.

Splotchy bruises of purple and blue paint her neck and chest, and there's dried blood on her temple and the corner of her mouth.

"Emily," you gasp, trying to control your expression so that Cyrus and his diehard followers don't think you know her as well as you do. You hate the feeling of letting her take the brunt of his punishment and blame, but it won't help to expose yourselves as agents too.

Spencer leans over you to get a better look at her. "Are you okay?"

She nods, flashing him a small smile. "Yeah, it looks worse than it feels." You can't imagine she's seen her reflection today, but you still appreciate her trying to relieve his stress.

Right then, the front door opens again and a shipment of food containers are carried inside. Men lift the boxes and bring them around the room to feed everyone inside, and when they set a box in front of you three, you notice a familiar scrawl of handwriting on top of the to-go container. 3AM. They're coming in at 3AM.

***

When the followers leave to go to bed, Cyrus takes Emily away again to separate her from you and the others. You fight the exhaustion pulling your eyes shut as you sit on the floor with your back against the wall. Spencer has been talking to Cyrus's second in command, trying to convince him that the Bible can be used to manipulate anything, but Cyrus catches on quickly.

You keep glancing at the door, hoping that Emily will find her way back up before 3AM hits, but as each minute ticks by, the idea becomes more futile.

You saw the diehard followers rigging the compound with explosives earlier in the night, and the detonator is clutched in Cyrus's hand like a lifeline. The irony doesn't escape you.

"Something's wrong," the follower reports, his eyes scanning the darkness outside through the window of the chapel.

Cyrus walks over to check, and you use the moment of distraction to lift the edge of your shirt and check your bandages. You're starting to bleed through the gauze again, but it's not bad enough that you need your dressings changed just yet.

When Cyrus realizes that he's been lied to, Spencer tries to distract him by spouting off verses at a rapid pace, but Cyrus just rams the butt of his rifle into his head, sending him to the ground.

"You cannot convert my brothers," Cyrus says before hitting him again. You crawl over to him, ignoring the screaming pain in your side, and clutch his arm for some semblance of comfort. Cyrus looks down at the both of you, his eyes squinting. "No one had to follow. God could have stopped me."

"He just did."

There's a gunshot, and you whip your head around to see Morgan and a young girl racing out of the tunnel before he crouches beside you. "You two alright?"

You nod, reaching your arm up to let him help you into a standing position. "Where's Emily?"

"We got her out of here," he explains, before turning to the girl. "Sweetheart, come with me."

She looks at each of you, her face twisted with panic, before bending down and picking up the detonator from where Cyrus dropped it. Your eyes widen and you yank Spencer in front of you before pushing him down the tunnel. "Run!"

Derek wraps an arm around your shoulder, holding half of your weight as you both sprint down the tunnel after Spencer. You're almost outside when the explosion goes off, pushing you to your knees with a strong gust of air and smoke.

***

He yells out your name as the blast engulfs the compound. His throat feels ragged as he yells out for Reid and Morgan too, but he can't see anything until three figures stand up from the plume of smoke and stumble down the steps.

He rushes up, meeting you halfway as you collapse from Morgan's arms into his. He grabs onto you as your knees buckle, and he manages to pull you towards him before you hit the ground.

He can't breathe as he clutches you to him, trying to be mindful of your wounds. Your breath comes out in gasps that mix in with his own as he sags with relief that you're here, back in his arms, where he can keep you safe.

He pulls back when he sees the paramedics approaching, and it's only then that he finally gets a good look at you. Your skin is gaunt, and his heart thuds loudly in his ears as he sees you wince in pain.

When they load you into an ambulance, his feet finally start working again and he races after you. "I'm coming with you."

You nod as he climbs through the doors and you reach your hand out over the side of the gurney. Your fingers feel cold when he clasps your hand in his, and he syncs his breaths with the sound of the sirens as your eyes fall closed.

***

The first thought that goes through your head when you wake up is that it's too bright. You squint as your eyes peel open, and in the few moments it takes for them to adjust to the light, a chorus of quiet 'she's awake's filter around the hospital room.

"How are you feeling?" JJ asks, stepping closer to stand at your bedside.

"You gave us a real scare, Mama," Penelope adds with a gentle smile.

You open your mouth to respond, but your throat is so dry, no sound comes out. Emily darts forward to grab the cup of water on the counter, and you glance over to see the yellowing bruises on her cheekbones.

After a few sips, you clear your throat and say, "I'm good. How long was I out?"

"Just a day," Derek responds from the foot of your bed, where he's standing with Spencer and Penelope.

Spencer chimes in. "You got out of surgery a few hours ago, and the doctors said you can go home tomorrow morning."

You nod slowly, stretching out your arms and legs to test the limits of your mobility. When you push yourself up into a sitting position, it doesn't hurt as much as it did on the compound.

"Ah, you're awake," Rossi smiles as he joins you all in the hospital room. It's not exactly huge, so everyone has to stand to make room, but it still doesn't escape your notice that someone is missing.

You return Rossi's smile before glancing over at the door, trying to see if he's just outside. Noticing your gaze, Spencer walks forward and takes your hand, giving it a small squeeze. "He's on the phone with your father. I think he got a flight for tomorrow morning."

You exhale slowly and take another sip of water. "Thank you." He nods and moves to release your hand, but you grip it tighter, holding him back. "Seriously, Spence, thank you." You turn to Emily, who is on the other side and her eyes shine, reflecting the tears in yours. "That whole operation sucked, but I'm really glad you two were in there with me."

She lets out a watery laugh and bends down to press an kiss to your temple. "I'm glad you're okay."

When you start fading again, the team leaves with promises to see you back at work in a month, and you close your eyes to get a break from the harsh fluorescent lighting.

***

"Alright," he says into his phone, nodding. "We'll see you in the morning, Mr. L/N. Yes, she's doing a lot better...okay, good, see you soon."

He ends the call and tucks his phone back into his pocket, before walking over to the vending machine at the end of the hall to grab a few of your favorite snacks. He loads up on chips and pop tarts before heading back up the hallway to your room. When he reaches the door, he realizes that the rest of the team has left, so he steps inside quietly and takes a seat in the small plastic chair next to your bed, before gently setting the snacks on your bedside table.

Your eyes are closed and he figures you must have just fallen asleep, so he crosses his arms over his chest and just sits there, watching you. Your face is covered in little scrapes from the explosion, and you still look a bit ashy, but you somehow still do look beautiful. This isn't the first time he has thought this - it was more of a recurrent notion when you were younger - but he can't deny that you're just objectively a beautiful person. But then again, he's not sure if beauty is ever really objective (eye of the beholder and all that), so he pushes the thought aside and turns back to you.

His thoughts are interrupted when his phone chirps with a text message. Pulling it out of his pocket, he checks the name and sees that Haley has arrived at the hospital. He had called her after you went into surgery, knowing that she would kill him if he didn't keep her constantly updated on your condition.

When he finds her at the end of the hall, she pulls him into a quick side hug that's slightly barred by Jack, who is clutching onto her tightly. He can imagine how scary the hospital looks to a three year old boy.

"Hi, bud," he smiles, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, before looking at Haley again. "She's sleeping, but I'll take you to her room."

"She's alright, Aaron." Haley is looking at him like she's worried he may break down, and it makes him wonder what his expression looks like right now. Ever since you got out of surgery, he has felt a weight lifted off his chest, but if he really thinks about it, he doesn't know if he feels all that much lighter at all.

But he doesn't want to say any of that out loud. Nodding, he cocks his head at the other end of the hall and leads her to your room, where you are blinking your eyes open again.

"Oh, sweetheart," Haley coos, adjusting Jack on her hip and walking over to your bedside. "I hope we didn't wake you up?"

You shake your head with a smile, but he can tell you're lying. You look exhausted, and he can see you periodically glancing at the light on the ceiling to keep your eyes alert.

"Well, hello," you grin at Jack as you carefully push yourself up into a sitting position. "How's my little Jack-o-lantern doing?"

His mouth twitches and he reaches his arms out as he lets out a loud, "Good!" You reach forward slowly, likely testing the limits of your mobility, and take him from Haley, who hands him off with a concerned look on her face.

"Be careful, baby," she tells Jack, before stepping back and crossing her arms. "Aunt Y/N is a little fragile today."

To his credit, Jack just slumps down into your arms, absentmindedly playing with the ends of your hair as you turn to Hotch. "Reid said you called my dad?"

He nods, taking a deep breath. "He'll be here in the morning. I assured him you were just fine, but he wants to stay here for a bit to keep an eye on you."

"That's okay," you shrug, much to his relief. After your last conversation about your father, he wasn't sure where you stood and how far he was allowed to push. "It'll be nice to have some company while I'm off for the next two weeks."

"Two months," he corrects with a stern look.

"One."

"Fine." The only reason he relents so quickly is because he knows how quickly he would be back at work if he was in your position. "But I'm limiting your field work until you're more healed."

You nod after a second. "I'll take it."

Haley huffs out a laugh and looks at him with an expression he remembers from their marriage. Affection with a hint of exasperation.

"Alright, you two," she smiles, reaching for Jack again. His entire fist is tangled in your hair at this point, but you don't seem to mind. "I should get him to bed. It's already past his bedtime."

You nod and hand him back, before letting her envelope you in a warm hug that you settle yourself into. "Love you, Hales. Thanks for coming by."

"Love you too, honey."

***

Haley leaves with Jack, and you slump down in the bed, feeling tired, but no longer sleepy.

"I can head out too," Hotch says quickly, reaching for his coat, "if you want to sleep."

You shake your head, and he drops his arm immediately, as though he was just looking for an excuse to stay. The thought makes you smile and his brow pinches in confusion. What's on your mind?

"I'm just glad I met you." You reach for his hand he takes it, giving it a soft squeeze, before taking a seat in the chair beside you.

"I brought you some snacks from the vending machine," he points out, glancing over at the pile he made on your table. "I got your favorites...at least out of what they had."

You grin, feeling your chest fill with warmth as you take in the assortment. "Sunchips and cinnamon pop tarts. You remembered."

"Of course," he shrugs. "You're the only person I know, other than my three year old son, who still eats pop tarts."

You make a face, swatting your hand at him, but he's just out of reach. "It's not my fault toddlers have great taste."

He chuckles as you tear open one of the packages and break off a piece. The buttery, sweet taste brings you back to your childhood when your mom was still alive. She would wake you up with two brown sugar cinnamon pop tarts before school, the sweet smell enough to drag you out of bed at eight in the morning.

"What are you thinking about?"

You look up with a smile, your gaze wistful as the memory slowly fades away. "My mom, actually. I don't have a ton of memories of her, but sometimes the most random thing will trigger an emotion or a memory that I forgot I had."

He nods, his eyes thoughtful. "Like the taste of pop tarts."

"Exactly." You break off another piece and toss it into your mouth, before setting the package back on the table. "Last week it was the smell of this perfume I found at the back of my dresser. It wasn't even the exact scent she would wear, it just had the same base notes."

Your voice trails off, and he looks at you, giving you a moment before speaking up. "What else do you remember?"

"I remember her funeral," you say without thinking, before realizing that it's not a lie. You know that grief is weird, that people usually remember everything or nothing, but for some reason, the funeral only comes back to you in pieces. Your dad crying silently, Hotch holding your hand, your dress being too small on you. You wore it anyway, because she had picked it out for you at the store a couple of years before. "I remember you holding me up."

His eyes flash with something that resembles amusement and he purses his lips. "I remember feeling the opposite. I knew I was supposed to be there for you, but somehow, it felt like you were the one holding both of us up that day."

You shrug, realizing the details don't mean anything. "All I really needed was for someone to hold onto."

He nods and that's when your mind flashes back to New York last month. "Did you go to Kate's funeral?"

"No," he sighs, raking a hand through his hair. "Her family flew her back to London to have it there, and I couldn't take any time off."

You want to apologize, but before you can open your mouth, he beats you to it. "I'm sorry for how I acted in New York."

You frown, but he just shakes his head. "I don't really know why I was trying so hard to protect her. I guess after the close call with Strauss last year, I was less sympathetic to bureau politics, but I still shouldn't have taken it out on you. I should've been protecting you too."

His words are tinged with self-contempt, and you find yourself wanting to take away his guilt even though you were hurt by how he treated you during that case. But that's how the two of you work. The protective instincts don't go away just because one of you is angry at the other.

You remember prom night all those years ago, when he was so peeved at you for convincing him to ask Haley to the dance, even though they had just started talking. She had freaked out and said no, so he was forced to take another girl who asked him after the fact (of which there were many), while you went with Kyle Martinez, who had been showing interest in you for a while. You knew your feelings for Hotch definitely weren't just platonic anymore, but he was into Haley, and he was also Hotch, so you had pushed it aside and gone to the prom with Kyle.

You had spotted Hotch the moment he walked into the ballroom that the school had turned into a Gatsby-themed prom venue. He commanded everyone's attention, and you certainly weren't immune, but you had your own date, so you ignored your best friend and danced with Kyle.

As the night wore on, he had grown bored and asked you if you wanted to get out of there and go somewhere quiet, but you weren't exactly experienced back then.

"I'm okay," you had whispered, trying to maintain your smile. "I'd rather just stay at the dance."

You can still remember the change in his expression when he saw you glance at Hotch, as though it was just yesterday. "What, are you into him or something? You seriously think he'd fuck you?"

You hadn't been able to help it as tears flooded your eyes, and before you knew it, Hotch was standing in front of you, glaring down your date as he asked if you were okay.

"Everything's fine," Kyle had sneered, trying to get around him. "Butt out of our business, Hotch."

He looked at you again. Do you want me to go?

You shook your head, a tear falling down your cheek, and before you had time to blink, his fist was swinging. There was a horrible thump as his fist collided with Kyle's cheekbone, sending him stumbling backwards from the force of the hit.

You couldn't move as Kyle swung back, trying to shove him down, but he didn't budge. He could take physical aggression better than most guys his age, but that didn't make this okay.

"Hotch, please," you had pleaded as he landed another punch. The sound of your voice must had cut through the fog, because he looked up then, unaware of the bruises on his knuckles. You helped him up, and the two of you watched as his date stormed out of the ballroom.

Presently, you look at him sitting in his chair and crack a small smile. "Do you remember prom night?"

He groans and you laugh lightly, being careful not to tear the stitches in your side.

"You never actually told me what that asshole did to you." His tone is light, but you can hear the genuine question underneath.

"It was so long ago," you shrug after a beat. "I don't even remember."

***

Your dad arrives at the hospital early the next morning right before you're discharged. The papers are quick, and by the time the sun has risen fully, you are being taken to his car in a wheelchair, despite your best efforts to refuse.

"I can walk!"

"I don't care."

"Dad, come on."

He frowns down at you. "I drove up here to be of use to you. Let me be of use."

You huff in frustration as he wheels you beside his car, and you try to get up on your own, but you twist the wrong way. You gasp out in pain as one of your stitches pulls and your dad immediately comes around to assist you.

"I hate your job," he grumbles, taking your arm to help you into the passenger seat. "If I had my way, you'd be working out of an office cubicle."

"I know, Dad," you soothe, turning your head back to smile at him. "I'm glad you're here."

"Me too, sweetie."

The drive to your house is quick, and he takes your arm again when you get out to help you inside. Once you're laying down on the couch, you insist that you don't need any more concessions, but he doesn't sit down in your armchair until after he has brought you a glass of water and a blanket.

"Dad, I'm fine, really." He doesn't look convinced, so you paste on your brightest smile, and he finally cracks, smiling back at you. "What do you want to do today?" you ask him.

"Wha- do today?" he sputters. "You need to rest, young lady. I'm not letting you leave this couch until you head up for bed tonight."

You can tell he's serious about this, so you sink back into your pillows with a sigh and grab the tv remote. "What do you want to watch then?"

He leans back in his armchair and brings his palm to his face: his thinking expression. "What's on?"

You click on the television, and the first channel it opens up to is playing a rerun of Breaking Bad. Neither of you seem interested in watching it, so you keep flipping through the channels, but after 20 minutes of mindless surfing, you eventually end up back on Breaking Bad.

"We could just play it in the background," you suggest with a shrug, "while we talk."

"Sure," he agrees, placing his hands on each armrest.

Two hours later, your eyes are glued to the television after having watched three episodes.

"We should probably do something else," Dad suggests at the next ad break. "All of this meth production is rotting my brain."

"Yeah," you agree, taking your time to reach for the remote before clicking the tv off and tossing the remote aside. "We can have lunch in the kitchen..."

"Nice try," he chuckles, before standing up. "Aaron is coming by with takeout soon, and you can eat that right from here."

He had been coming by a lot after your movie night a few months ago, and while hanging out with your best friend isn't an anomaly, it does reinforce the reminder that neither of you have anyone to go home to at the end of the night.

It's another half hour by the time he shows up, Thai takeout in hand, and by then you're starving.

"Thanks for bringing food," you say genuinely after your dad lets him inside the house. "I was worried I would have to live off Dad's cooking for a week."

"Very funny," he says with an eye roll. "But yes, thank you, Aaron."

"Of course," Hotch says simply, before handing your dad a fork and napkin. "I'm also hoping to convince Y/N to take more time off."

"Not fair!" you complain, feeling like you're reverting to your high school self with your dad and best friend sitting across from you. "I'm not starting field work for a couple of months. I just want to come in soon to meet the new press liaison."

"Is JJ leaving?" Dad asks as he takes a bite of green curry with rice.

"Just temporarily," Hotch says, reaching for the pad kee mao container. You nod, chiming in, "She's due in a couple of months, so she's gonna start training someone soon to take over while she's gone."

"Is she still with that cop from...where was it again?"

"New Orleans," you answer with a laugh. "Yeah, she and Will are still together."

You can feel the conversation getting dangerously close to (ex) spouses, so you steer your father away from the topic by having him try all of the food Hotch brought. He ends up staying for a couple of hours as he explains some of the more tame cases you've handled to your dad, who actually seems interested in the finer details of each profile.

Eventually, he heads home, with the explanation that he has Jack that night, and you say good night to your dad before heading up for bed. You cover the stitches with plastic the way the doctors instructed you to before taking a fast shower and getting into your bed.

You can hear the sound of your father's quiet snores from the guest room down the hall, and for a moment, you let yourself imagine that you're back in your childhood home, sleeping in your pink and purple bedroom after spending the day with your best friend.

***

It takes a lot of convincing, but at the end of the month, your dad drops you off at work before making his drive back home. Emily had called you before the team's plane took off, and you timed it right so that you'd get to the office just as they arrived.

The elevator doors open on your floor, and you hear a loud conversation happening between Morgan and Prentiss just before they spot you from the bullpen.

"Y/N!" Emily grins, rushing forward to give you a hug. "How's the healing process been?"

"I feel a lot better," you tell her with a smile as you pull back and drop your bag next to your desk.

"You look a lot better," she nods, before Derek grabs you and pulls you in for a surprisingly gentle bear hug.

"You look great," he says, grinning at you. "Are you cleared to come back to work?"

"Not field work," you sigh, pushing your hair back behind your ear. "I'm just here to turn in some paperwork and then I'm stuck to my desk for a few more weeks."

Derek takes the files from your hand and tosses them on your desk before throwing an arm around your shoulder. "You should come out and get burgers with Prentiss and me."

"Tempting," you say, "but I just came by to meet-"

"Hey guys," JJ calls out from the hallway. "I want to introduce you to someone."

She walks up to you all with another woman by her side. "This is Agent Jordan Todd. She'll be taking over for me while I'm on maternity leave."

You grin, clasping your hands together in front of you as she smiles sheepishly at all of you. "Agent Jareau's told me so much about you all."

She turns to Emily first. "You must be Agent Prentiss."

"Yes," she smiles, shaking her hand. "Nice to meet you."

Spencer walks up at that moment and Agent Todd nods at him. "Hello, Dr. Reid."

He waves back, and she then looks at you. You reach out first to shake her hand and she smiles. "Agent L/N, I presume?" When you nod, she takes your hand. "I heard about the cult incident."

"Yeah," you let out a laugh. "Incident is definitely a word for it."

Derek drops his arm from your shoulder and Jordan turns to him with a cheeky grin that piques your interest. "And Agent Morgan. Nice to see you again."

He nods, not giving anything away. "Nice to see you, too. So, this must be the good news."

"This would be my brownie."

Emily frowns, pointing between the two of then. "Uh, you two have met?"

Derek doesn't turn away from her. "Briefly."

JJ shoots him a look before steering Jordan away to meet the rest of the team, and you and Emily turn to Derek with matching expressions. "What was that about?"

"I met her at a coffee shop this morning," he explains, rubbing a hand over his face. "She knew my name then, and I guess this is how."

"JJ's about to pop," Emily says, glancing at you with a small smirk. "Looks like it's about to get interesting at the BAU."

***

Your first case back in the field takes you to Atlanta, where Vanessa Holden was murdered after going home with a man she met on a night out clubbing. Jordan briefs you all on the details back in the office before you get on the plane.

You're still not used to JJ being gone, and you heard all about Jordan's drive from Hotch when he came by your house with dinner periodically over your bureau-mandated leave, but you don't want to make any judgments before getting to know her yourself.

You sit across from Hotch on the plane, and you don't miss the way his eyes follow each of your movements from the second you sit down. Your bandages are still on, but you've regained almost all of your mobility.

As the jet takes off, you lean forward slightly to adjust the back of your blazer, and his gaze shoots to you, his brow furrowing with concern.

You flash your eyes at him, cutting the tension with a small smirk. I'm fine, I promise.

He squints slightly, scrutinizing your expression for a moment, before letting out an inscrutable sigh and turning back to the case file.

When you land in Atlanta, you start off at the police department with Hotch, Morgan, and Todd, and her continued insistence on being the first to meet with the local officials and debrief them surprises you, given JJ's more subtle nature when working with those who call your team in.

The local police let you know that the Holden family has stopped cooperating with their investigation, but the four of you head over to their home to try and speak with her mother and sister one last time. Jordan gets you in the house by sharing a story about her older sister who passed away, and you find yourself feeling awful about your misjudgment of her, until you notice the look of Hotch's face.

"Did you know that about Jordan?" you ask, trying to understand why he looks so miffed.

"No," he says simply, his brow pinched together, "and neither did she. According to her file, she's an only child."

You flash your eyes at Derek.

The conversation gets you a basic profile of the unsub, based on the cocky way he held himself with Vanessa and the way he was dressed when approaching her at the club, but when the moment you exit her home, Hotch corners Jordan on the driveway.

"The information about Vanessa Holden being the responsible sister," he fumes. "Where did you get that?"

She has the gall not to look ashamed, and you can't decide if you respect her resolve or detest her lack of responsibility. "Some of it was online, and some of it was an educated guess based on birth order."

"A guess."

You practically wince and Derek stares at her, as though trying to hypnotically get her to backtrack.

She looks down then, and he delivers the kicker. "And in the process you lied."

You step forward to insert yourself in the conversation (for what purpose, you don't yet know), but Jordan just stands up straighter, ready to defend herself. "That mother was shut down. I needed to salvage some rapport."

Hotch doesn't back down, and as his brow locks into place, you step back again. "I don't know how you did things in counter-terrorism, but we don't make it a habit to lie to get the job done."

"I got you in the door, didn't I?" she spits out one last time. It's both, you realize. Respect and distaste.

"Not only do you represent the FBI, you represent this team."

He shakes his head, and you cock your head at Derek, gesturing for him to head back to the car. You hear the tail end of their conversation as you yank open the passenger side door.

"From now on, everything goes through me."

Jordan gets saved by the literal bell as his phone rings, and when he steps away to answer it, she comes back to the SUV and gets in the back. "So, how bad did I just screw up?"

Derek heaves out a sigh, looking at her with his characteristic stoicism mixed with compassion. "On a normal scale of one to ten, I'd say a six."

He glances at you and you press your lips together. "But on Hotch's scale...an 11."

She rubs a hand over her face and you turn back to face the front, watching as Hotch paces back and forth, his phone pressed to his ear. He doesn't look up until he's back in the SUV.

***

The profile becomes clear when a new victim emerges: an unsub with a possible scar or birthmark above his left eye, who went to a class for pickup artists. After doing some researching with Garcia, Emily returns with a flyer for a man named Viper that makes your stomach twist.

You, Morgan, and Hotch join her at one of his classes later that day, and it takes everything in you not to sneer in disgust as he describes his approach to meeting women.

"This is the jungle, my friends," Viper finishes off, lifting his hands in the air theatrically, "and your prey wants to be caught."

You and Hotch share a look, and he raises his eyebrows as you cringe. What, not a fan?

You shove his shoulder with yours, but it's not hard enough to actually make him budge. Hilarious.

"Will you listen to that language?" Emily whispers from next to you. "He's training serial killers."

"Great," Derek sighs. "We're dealing with a rampant narcissist and misogynist who's turned himself into a snake oil salesman."

Hotch nods. "That's one more thing he has in common with our unsub."

The class ends soon after, and you get the distinct pleasure of meeting Viper in the flesh. When he approaches the four of you, he makes a clear effort to keep eye contact with only the men, likely trying to use his self-prescribed techniques to make you and Emily feel vulnerable. Instead, it just makes you want to laugh in his face.

"So you think this- what did you call him- unsub, took my class?"

He raises his eyebrows at Emily then, in what you can only hope is meant to be a seductive nature, and she practically snorts. Using his clear attraction to her to the team's advantage, she steps forward and takes control of the conversation. By the time she's finished, she has managed to secure his location for later tonight, and get him just flustered enough that a chance meeting later would have him ready to divulge anything she wants to hear.

'Please tell me we are not giving up on that guy." Emily heaves out a breath as you all walk back outside after speaking with Viper. She was just talking to him, but she looks like she's ready to take another shower.

Hotch flashes his eyes with uncharacteristic mirth. "We're just getting started."

***

His eyes keep darting back to the door of the locker room. Prentiss is going undercover at Club Aqua to get more information about the unsub from Viper, and when she suggested that you and Agent Todd join her, he couldn't think of a good enough reason to quash her idea.

He knows he's been hard on Todd. He figured it out on his own, even with your furtive glances from the passenger side of the SUV after leaving the Holden household.

He wishes he could say it all came from a place of protecting bureau leadership, but he knows that isn't completely true. It's been almost two weeks since he last saw Jack, and every time he drops him back at Haley's, that feeling settles back in his gut, like clockwork. The feeling that tells him he's just like his father.

The locker room door flies open and he averts his eyes, trying to maintain some level of subtlety, but it's only Prentiss and Todd. Where are you?

His unspoken question is answered when Prentiss announces that you told them to get started without you. He's still worried that you're not ready for this kind of assignment so early in your return to field work, so, before he can regret it, he stalks forward and pushes open the door.

The regret immediately comes when he sees your bare back, underneath your unzipped dress, on the far end of the locker room.

"Oh, sorry," he blinks, turning his head back. "I didn't realize-"

He moves to shut the door again, but you look over your shoulder and raise your hand, beckoning him inside. "Wait, I could actually use your help."

He steps through the door and crosses over to you, where you turn your back to him after a small glance. "Zip me up?"

The bottom of the zipper is at the small of your back, and he tries to avoid touching you as he pulls it up to the base of your shoulder blades. He isn't able to avoid it completely, and he tries to ignore the heat of your skin as he drops the zipper and nods. "All set."

You turn around and he forgets to step back in time, leaving you only a few inches from him as you glance up with a confused smile. "You okay?"

He nods again, stepping back and clearing his throat. Why is his skin burning? "I should be asking you that. Are you sure you're up for this?"

"I'm getting the bandages taken off later this week," you tell him, partly misunderstanding his concern. "It doesn't even hurt anymore."

That's definitely a lie, but he allows it for now. "That's not all I'm talking about. You haven't been in the field in months. I just worry that I'm tossing you into the deep end on your first day back."

"I'm fine," you insist, reaching out to put your hand on his forearm. "I would have refused the assignment if I didn't think I could handle it."

He's not sure if he believes that either, but in this case, the assignment itself seems odious enough that he can let it slide. "Okay. Are you ready to head out there?"

"Yeah, just one second."

He waits as you pull a thin necklace from your bag and clasp it around your neck. When it's attached, you spin around with a goofy smile. "How do I look?"

"Amazing," he says without thinking. "I mean- you look great, of course."

You just smile at him, before patting his shoulder and walking out the door to meet the Prentiss and Todd at the club. Your hair brushes past him as you leave, and the scent of your perfume lingers in the air behind you, a flowery aroma that persists even when the door swings shut.

***

Emily waves at you when you approach her and Jordan in a crowded part of the club. "Y/N, I'm sure you remember Viper. God's gift to women."

You smile at him sweetly, before glancing at her. "Sure hope he came with a receipt."

"Another friend," Viper says, letting out a weak laugh.

Emily uses this moment of distraction to pounce. "You promised if I met you on your turf, you'd show me something special. So...let's see it."

He starts spouting off some nonsense about chemical signals, and you're about to take Jordan's arm and pull her aside to give Emily some room, when Viper turns to you with a mock-sincere expression. "Does the boss man you're out here, with me?"

You turn back with a frown. "Excuse me?"

For a moment, you forget to mask your emotions and he practically grins as his bravado grows. "What I do for a living is pretty similar to what you all do. I read people...and from what I could tell during your little ambush of my class earlier, there's something going on between you and the supervisor."

You let out a laugh that feels surprisingly forced as it leaves your throat. "I really can't believe there are people out there who pay you for assessments like that, because you're dead wrong."

He shrugs, looking back at Emily, and you roll your eyes at him before turning away under the guise of giving them some space. When you're out of his line of sight, you let out a breath that was caught in your chest. You know you and Hotch are closer than most friendships are at your age, and you're not unaccustomed to people reading more into it than there is, so you're not sure why Viper's words feel like a fist around your gut.

"Hey, you okay?" You turn back to see Jordan approaching you with a glass of water. "He's really trying everything to get under our skin."

You accept the glass gratefully, and swallow a few gulps, before nodding. "Thank you. I think I just needed some air. I forgot how stuffy these clubs get."

"I hear that." She laughs and you feel your chest loosen with relief that she didn't believe Viper's insinuation. "I can't believe I'm saying it, but I'm almost excited to get back into my work clothes."

You let out a breathy chuckle, before sending her back to keep an eye on Emily as she works on breaking Viper. Later that night, when you get back to the station to meet up with the rest of the team, you excuse yourself early to head to the hotel, and you allow yourself to pretend, just this once, that you weren't avoiding him, and you really were just tired.

***

You're sitting in your car in front of the hospital at seven in the morning, because you didn't want to take any work off just to get your bandages removed. You know this is likely the exact sort of thing the bureau mandates time off for, but a small part of you didn't want anyone knowing you were coming here. Or maybe you just didn't want him to know.

You haven't been trying to avoid him. You may be a little embarrassed by how far under your skin Viper got with his one little comment, but you can't help it. The notion stirred something you don't recognize inside of you and you don't want to take the time to think through it.

You take a deep breath and get out of your car, before walking into the hospital and checking in for your appointment. When you called to secure a time slot, the nurse mentioned that, barring any complications, the appointment shouldn't take more than half an hour.

You're a few minutes early, so you sit in the waiting area, flipping through a fashion magazine from the table next to you. After a minute, you're so engrossed in a page about returning trends that you don't realize he is sitting next to you until he taps the side of your foot with his own.

"Oh shit," you blurt out when you see him, more out of surprise than the shame of being caught. "How did you know I'd be here?"

"Garcia saw it in your calendar and told me." You turn to look at him with mock-exasperation, but you're caught off guard by the genuine hurt in his eyes. "Why didn't you tell me the appointment was today? I could've driven you."

You open your mouth to come up with an excuse, but all that comes out is, "I don't know." He doesn't look convinced, but the doctor calls your name then and you stand up, pressing your lips together. "Will you come with me?"

He stands up immediately, without another word, and you both follow the doctor into a back room, where she proceeds to remove your bandages and check where you are in the healing process. The wound is closed, and is almost entirely scarred over, but she recommends that you continue to take it easy - a point which you see Hotch take mental note of immediately - and limit excessive physical activity.

"The wound is healing very nicely," the doctor says as you walk back to the front. "Give me a call if anything changes, but as long as you keep applying the salve, there shouldn't be a permanent scar."

You thank her before she heads back to meet with another patient, and Hotch holds the front door open for you as you walk out into the parking lot.

"Thank you for coming," you tell him earnestly, "even though I didn't ask you to. I should've told you."

He exhales through his nose, bumping your shoulder. "Yeah, you should have."

He loops his arm through yours as you step off the curb and you lean your head on his shoulder for a second before unlocking your car. You were stupid to let Viper's words get to you. He's your best friend.

He's your best friend, and you love him.

***

One of the first happy memories at the office in a long time comes in the form of JJ coming in with baby Henry. It feels like a welcome relief to see her face back in the bullpen, and for a few peaceful moments, everything feels like it's back to normal.

You know firsthand how much this job takes from people, and Jordan's absence in the office now doesn't go unnoticed, even with a sweet baby boy here to take your mind off of it.

Is this my fault?

Rossi had tried to talk her down after discovering that the unsub had killed his entire family in their home, seemingly after her press release, but sometimes the words aren't enough.

I'm not sure I can do this job.

There had been so much anguish in her voice as she admitted to Rossi that she wasn't cut out for this line of work, but no part of you judged her for it. A bigger piece of you almost envied her ability to recognize that she was in over her head - that she couldn't keep going like this.

Looking at JJ now though, you feel a sense of hope again, like maybe this job doesn't take everything from you.

"I thought you could use a surprise," she smiles, cradling Henry in her arms under a swath of blankets.

"He's beautiful," you whisper, stepping in closer to get a better look at his little scrunched-up face.

Penelope comes back into the room with a freshly warmed up bottle of milk, and JJ starts to feed him as everyone leans closer in wonder. "I wanted us to have at least one good memory to hold onto in this room."

Before you can react, Derek is pushing past you and Spencer. "Excuse me, kid. Um, JJ, can I..."

He points to the bundle in her arms and she looks at him with a soft grin. "Of course."

She carefully transfers Henry into his arms as all of the women worriedly chime in with reminders and comments on his form.

"You gotta hold his head up."

"Careful, you're smothering him!"

"I got it," Derek chuffs, before rocking Henry in his arms. "Look at that, what's he doing? He's smiling at Derek Morgan."

Penelope and Emily share a look. "Gas."

He shoots them a pointed glare, before grabbing the bottle from Garcia's hand and feeding Henry himself. "Hey, little man."

You can't help the smile that crosses your face as you step back to give them some room. Your shoulder bumps into Hotch as you step around JJ, and you look back at him, noticing the little curve of his lips. "You're smiling."

He glances over at you with an eye roll. "Gas."

***

"What's up, Hotch?"

You roll over and turn your bedside lamp on as you press your cellphone to your ear. The alarm clock beside you says it's just past five in the morning.

"We have a case."

You frown, pushing yourself up. "Wouldn't JJ usually call us to come in?"

"This one's different." His voice sounds slightly muffled and his tone is colored by a familiar tinge of irritation. "Dallas AG called me last night to come down here, and it looks like they may have a serial."

"You went alone?" you ask, trying to blink the grogginess from your eyes as you get out of bed. You are distinctly aware of how many questions you're asking, but your brain is still fuzzy from being woken up.

"Yeah," he says simply, before you hear someone call his name from the other end of the line. "I convinced them to bring the team in as well. Anyway, I have to go, but I'll see you soon."

"Yeah, see you-" The line cuts and you sigh, tossing the phone down.

So much for a full night of rest.

***

Spencer briefs all of you on female serial killers on the flight over, and once you land, Hotch is waiting at the hotel. You drop your things off in your room and meet with him, Rossi, and Morgan to head over to the location of the latest crime scene, when another man is murdered.

"Victim was Joseph Fielding," Rossi explains when you enter the office building. "He was CFO here."

"Poisoned?" you clarify.

"And staged," Morgan adds, glancing over the body. This time, the victim was left out in the open, naked and tied up. There's no way the company can keep the media away from this one.

"Which one of you is Aaron Hotchner?"

You turn around to see a man in a fancy suit stalking towards the four of you. You step back to let Hotch get around you, and he approaches the man with a frown. "I'm Hotchner."

"Larry Bartlett," he introduces himself. "I represent Mr. Fielding and Webster Industries."

Hotch angles himself to stand between the man and the body. "This is a closed crime scene, Mr. Bartlett."

"I spoke to Ellen Daniels," he explains, his eyes glinting with over-confidence. "She said you're a very reasonable man."

You resist the urge to snort as Hotch moves to get the attention of the police officers nearby. "Escort him out, please."

"No, wait! The press is outside, and they can smell blood. Any way we can handle this discreetly?"

This time it's you who frowns. "We're not about to lie for you."

"Don't have to lie," he says, gesturing with his hands as though that will help his case. "Just don't comment."

Hotch looks at him for a moment, before excusing himself and pulling the rest of you aside. "Is there any reason to go public yet?"

Rossi shrugs. "Validating her is exactly what she wants. If we hold back, she's more likely to make a mistake."

You almost smile. "He doesn't need to know that."

Hotch meets your eye for a beat before spinning around and putting his lawyer face back on. "We need everything you have on Fielding. Bank accounts, tax records, emails...everything."

***

When Penelope uncovers that the victims have all been withholding child support from their ex-wives, Hotch meets with the city's high-profile corporate lawyers to present the profile. You're not sure how helpful this will be, given that their primary motive is to protect their clients' companies, but it proves useful when one of the lawyers reveals that the unsub may have a penthouse to her name.

The apartment is massive. You walk around the living area, trying to find anything the unsub may have left out, but she has clearly been covering her tracks.

When you don't find anything by the bedroom, you head over to the walk-in closet where Derek and Emily are poking around her jewelry box.

"Hey, Prentiss," Derek suddenly says, lifting up a leather bodysuit and holding it in front of her. "Got a whip?"

Rolling your eyes, you smack the top of his head with the evidence baggy in your hands and walk back out to find Hotch. He's poring over her antique book collection when suddenly the apartment phone starts to ring.

You all argue for a few moments over who should take the call, and Derek quickly alerts Garcia to trap-and-trace it, before it soon goes to voicemail.

"Hi, it's me," the woman's voice says brightly in the voicemail message. "You know what to do." There's a beep, and then her voice comes back, more present this time. "Aaron."

Your eyes snap over to him, but he's still looking at the phone.

"I know you're up there," she continues. "Aaron Hotchner."

He reaches forward and carefully lifts the phone with his gloved hand. He walks over to the window as he presses it to his ear. "I'm at a disadvantage. You seem to know my name, but I don't know yours."

You bend down and press the speaker button on the main console as he moves across the room.

"I thought I could trust you, Aaron." Her voice is tight over the line, the tiny speakers still enough to amplify the emotion in her voice. She sounds so...disappointed.

"Who says you can't?" he responds slowly, clearly testing the range of her emotion.

"I want to," she says quietly. "I even looked you up online. I watched the presentation you gave on school shootings...and for a moment, I actually thought there were still good people in the world."

You remember that presentation. There had been a shooting at an elementary school in Virginia, and the moment the news hit, he had been on the phone, discussing procedures to ensure it wouldn't happen again. You went with him that day that he gave the speech, and you could tell he had been thinking of Jack the entire time he was up there.

Hotch closes his eyes for a beat. "But I've disappointed you, haven't I? Just like all the other men in your life who've walked out on their families."

The line is silent, before: "Did you walk out on your family?"

Hotch looks down for a moment and you fight the urge to walk over and pull him into a hug. "No. My wife left me."

You can feel the team's eyes on you as you keep your expression neutral, your eyes focused on him.

"Do you have kids?"

Your mind flashes to Jack, and your chest feels warm as he nods, before muttering a quick "yes".

The woman speaks up again, her voice stronger yet more emotional. "How often do you see him?"

"I try to see him every week."

She scoffs. "Do you see him every week?" Her question is like a jab, trying to push him into doing or saying something that will prove he's just like the other men in her life.

"No," he admits, glancing back at you. You nod, trying to let him know that you're right here. "I don't get there as often as I want."

"I believe you." Her voice softens and you watch as Hotch's expression turns back to his thinking face. He has an idea.

He lets her talk for a minute, listening in to Garcia's updates on the trap-and-trace, until he chimes in again. "But I'm just frustrating you, aren't I?"

You can hear the confusion in her tone. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you wanna show the world all these bad men, and my investigation's just getting in your way."

"No, Aaron," she sighs heavily. "You just want me to disappear, just like they do."

He shakes his head, turning to look out the window. "Truthfully, I'm only interested in finding you. You don't know who to trust. Am I right?"

There are tears in her voice as she quietly whispers an acknowledgement.

"Come to me and turn yourself in." He walks back to the living area. "I will make sure that you get the help you need. I won't let you disappear."

His voice is a comfort, and for a brief moment, you think that he could probably convince you to turn yourself in if you had to.

There's a beat of silence, before a small rustling sound. "If we met under different circumstances...I could believe that."

The rustling continues, before her tone changes completely, going from soft and meek to strong and icy. "I won't let you cover this up."

There's a gunshot right before the call cuts out.

***

You follow Hotch and Derek into the hotel room, checking behind you as you aim your gun out in front of you. Once Garcia found Megan Kane's address and client list, everything else fell into place.

The room is empty, except for a gun and a bottle of champagne placed theatrically on the center table.

"Hotch," Derek whispers, pointing out at the balcony, where a figure is laying down on one of the lounge chairs.

His brow furrows and he lifts his hand. "Wait here."

"You sure?" you ask, stepping forward to get a better look.

He nods. "It's over. She knows it."

Derek steps out to call 911, and you watch as Hotch approaches her slowly, tucking his gun into his holster before sitting on the chair beside her.

"Nothing will change," you hear her whisper, her voice overflowing with despair. "They'll just go back to doing whatever they want and they'll keep getting away with it."

He shakes his head. "Not if I have anything to do with it."

The response is almost corny, but his voice is so earnest that you find yourself believing him anyway.

He reaches forward and takes her hand, holding it tightly as her head lolls to the side to look at him. "How could your wife have ever left someone like you?"

He doesn't say anything, but you can feel the sadness permeating off of both of them as he comforts her in her final moments. Haley is one of your good friends, and you know she would've made their marriage work if it was something she could control. This job just isn't that.

Megan lets out a soft sob and you avert your eyes, feeling like you're intruding on a private moment. "You're the first man I ever met who didn't let me down. Will you stay with me?"

He doesn't hesitate. "Yes."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

He holds her hand for a long time, and he doesn't stand up until you're certain she's been dead for minutes. The walk back to you is slow, and you can see the extra weight on his shoulders as he trudges across the hotel room.

You open your arms and he all but falls into them, letting you pull him into a tight hug that you can tell is holding him together right now.

"You did good," you whisper as his face presses into your shoulder. "You kept your promise. It's the last thing she wanted, and you gave it to her."

You feel him nod, and a moment later, he stands up, letting his arms drop like deadweights. His hair is slightly disheveled, so you reach up and push the front strands back from his forehead, before resting your hand on his cheek for a quick second. "Let's go home?"

He nods again. "Let's go home."

***

It's snowing. You don't realize it until you step out of the car and onto the sidewalk in front of the Georgetown brownstone where the priest was taken in.

Emily and Derek caught him in the middle of an attempted exorcism, and you didn't arrive with the rest of the team until they were already bringing him out in cuffs. She looks shaken as she leads her friend out of the house and to the ambulance waiting on the street.

Once the paramedics take him from her hands, her body all but deflates, and she exhales deeply, as though releasing the pent-up tension from the day.

"Em," you whisper, approaching her slowly. "Can I drive you home?"

She doesn't look at you at first. Whites flecks of snow dance across your vision and stick to her coat and hair as she stares at the ground. After a moment, she shakes her head. "I'm gonna walk for a while."

Her feet don't move, and you're reminded of a conversation you had years ago, when she comforted you and offered you a quiet place to just be. Gently looping your arm through hers, you ask, "Do you want some company?"

She nods almost immediately, and you let her lead the way as you walk away from the red and blue flashing lights. You can't imagine how tough this case must have been for her, especially because the people she loved were so deeply involved.

The walk is silent, and you look down, watching the patterns the soles of your boots make in the snow. You only stop moving when Emily does, her sudden stillness tugging you back as she stands in front of a small church that she must have seen from down the street.

She lets go of your arm as she turns her face up to the sky, hugging herself in an effort to stay warm or shield herself. Maybe a mix of both.

"You don't have to say anything," you say softly as you turn to face the church as well, your shoulder pressing lightly against hers, "but if you want to, I'm always here to listen."

Emily glances up at the church, her eyes shining in the cold, and presses her lips together as she takes in a shaky breath. "My friend...who died...Matthew. He knew the Bible inside and out, and one day he started to question everything."

You think you know where this is going, but you don't want to interrupt her when she's letting out emotions she has clearly kept inside for years.

"We moved around a lot when I was younger, because of my mom's postings, and when you're 15, it's really hard to get accepted."

She's silent for a few moments and you take the opportunity to fill in the gaps for her, so she doesn't have to say it out loud. "You got pregnant?"

She nods, taking a deep breath. "Matthew wasn't the father. It-it was...something else. But I didn't know what to do. He told me to talk to our priest, but he just said that if I had an abortion, I wasn't welcome in his congregation."

Your throat tightens with tears and you blink them back, swallowing thickly. "What did you do?"

"Matthew found a doctor." Her arms tighten around her abdomen, and she lets out a small shiver. "He took me there, and he stayed with me. Then, when we got back, he held my hand and walked me into the church." Her voice cracks as she continues. "Father Gamino actually stopped his sermon, but Matthew told me to hold my head up and we walked to the front pew."

Her arms fall then, and you look up to see the wetness on her cheeks, pink from the cold. "Matthew saved my life. He made me feel like I was worthy of...love, and friendship, but then his anger and questioning started." She finally looks at you, and her eyes are wide with grief and anguish. "He saved me, and it's my fault that his life unraveled."

You're shaking your head before she's even finished speaking. "Em, honey, it's not your fault. He was your friend. He loved you, and everything he did for you was his choice. Anything he discovered after that was already within him."

Another tear falls down her cheek and you reach forward to pull her into a hug that she accepts gratefully. "You're one of the strongest people I know."

Her hands clutch the back of your coat as she cries silently into your shoulder, and you don't let go until she finally stops shaking.

***

Hotch is ending a phone call when you step into his office. He sets it down and nods when you step inside, but you can see the lines of tension just in the way he's standing.

"Is everything alright?" you ask, walking inside and standing in front of his desk. "What was that call about?"

He doesn't look up. "Shaunessy died last night."

"Oh, Aaron, I'm so sorry." You squeeze his forearm over the desk, but he still won't look at you. "He was your first boss here at the BAU, right?"

He nods, before clearing his throat and straightening his back. "He was sick. This isn't a surprise, but there's something else we may need to talk about-"

He's interrupted by JJ coming into his office, a case file in hand. "Sorry, but you wanted to know immediately about any unusual Boston homicides?"

You see his jaw twitch as he takes the file from her and flips it open, scanning the first page quickly. JJ glances over at you, a confused expression on her face, but you can only shrug.

He looks up after a minute. "We're going to Boston."

JJ sputters. "Wha-what, but we haven't been invited?"

"We will be." He grabs his coat and sidesteps the two of you, before booking it out of his office. You're hot on his heels as he grabs his briefcase and alerts the team that they need to be ready to leave within the hour.

"What was that about?" Morgan asks, turning to you.

You shrug again. "I have no idea." You turn to the glass doors swinging shut behind him, and rush outside before you can second guess your actions.

"Aaron!" you call out, forcing him to hold the elevator for you. "Tell me what's going on."

He sighs as you step inside, and he sets the briefcase on the floor. "It's the Boston Reaper. He's back."

"The Reaper?" The name sends a shudder through your body. "That was your first case as a profiler, wasn't it?"

He nods, and you wait for him to continue. "He offered Shaunessy a deal that if he shut down the investigation, then he would stop killing."

His words take a moment to register, but then your face falls. "He took the deal. And now that he's dead..."

"The Reaper has started killing again."

***

The next crime scene comes in the form of an older couple, who were killed in their car on the side of the street. When you arrive, you discover that the unsub left behind the previous victim's watch, as well as a note.

You sidle up next to Hotch, bumping your shoulder against his to alert him to your presence. "Looks like he went through her purse. Any idea what he was looking for?"

He's so focused on the letter in his hands that he doesn't respond, so you lean in and read it from beside his shoulder. "The question mark is new."

"It's for us," he says suddenly, dropping his hand and looking at you. "He's saying it's not fate. He's saying we had 10 years to save them and that these latest ones are on us."

You frown, trying to scrutinize the lines of tension on his face. "You got all that from one question mark?"

"I may know him better than I've let on."

Your brow furrows and you grab his wrist, bringing his attention back to you. "What does that mean? Aaron?"

"It means that there is a profile on The Reaper."

"You said you were called off before you could make one-"

"We were," he cuts you off, shaking his head. "I had just started the profile, and then he stopped killing, so officially we were done, but..."

You purse your lips. "But this case stuck with you."

He nods. "I kept coming back to it over the years, and I worked on it alone."

You can imagine young Hotch, in his first years at the bureau, poring over the case file late into the night, because he couldn't put it away when the unsub was still out there. You realize, all of a sudden, that it reminds you of Gideon.

Looking up at him, you release his wrist, letting your fingers drag on his pulse for a moment before letting go. "We need to hear your profile."

***

After he gives the profile alone, you all head back to the hotel to get some rest before the long days ahead of you. In your heart of hearts, you know that no one will really be sleeping tonight, least of all Hotch, so you go up to his room with him to keep working on the case.

"Can you imagine living with the fear that the man who killed your fiancee, and nearly killed you, is still out there?" Your question is mostly rhetorical, but Hotch still lets out a soft grunt from the bed where he's poring over crime scene photos from the last few victims.

"It explains why Foyet went so underground," he says with a frown. "The multiple residences under different names, always taking the bus...I just wish he had taken us up on moving him to a safe house."

"I think that's actually the one part I do understand," you muse, looking up from the file on your lap. "Part of the reason why I came back from my dad's house so soon after Jeff died was because I needed everything to return to normal. I needed my life back."

He glances up at you then with a slight raise of his eyebrow and you shake your head before looking back down. It's okay. Not now.

He looks like he wants to say something, but then the hotel room phone goes off, piercing the air with a high ringing sound. He gets off the bed and picks it up, answering with a stern, "Hotchner."

He's silent at first, but you only look up when you hear him say, "You've misjudged me. I'm the guy who hunts guys like you...I'll see you soon." He slams the phone down on the receiver, and even though you know exactly what that was, you still need him to say it.

"Hotch, what was that?"

He rubs a hand over his face, pacing back and forth across the small space in front of you.

"Was that him?"

He doesn't respond, instead mumbling something under his breath that you can't make out. You stand up and cross the room, before grabbing his forearms so he's forced to look at you. "Aaron! What did he say?"

His eyes are frantic as he finally meets your eye. "He offered me the same deal...and I didn't take it."

***

"Six bodies, not including the driver. He put 'em down with the gun and finished them off with his knife."

The scene inside the bus is horrifying. Blood is dripping from each of the seats, and the words "No Deal", along with a series of numbers, are painted in blood on the windows.

Rossi comes up beside you as you watch Hotch survey the scene, an eerie stillness to his composure. "What's going on with him?"

You glance at him, before turning back to Hotch. "The Reaper called him at his room tonight, offering the deal...and he hung up on him."

Rossi nods, before patting your arm and stepping around you. He nods at Hotch, grabbing his attention away from the scene he hasn't been able to look away from for minutes. "Y/N told me what happened earlier. So, what, you think this is your fault?"

"It is." His voice is shakier than you'd expect based on the resolution in his choice of words.

"Okay," Rossi shrugs, reaching for the gun in his holster. "Here, use mine." Your brow furrows and you step forward, making sure you're nearby in case this gets out of hand. You love Dave, but he can be a bit heavy-handed sometimes.

"You convinced me," he continues, shoving his hand forward. Hotch shakes his head, but he doesn't let up. "No, no, you hung up on him. You practically killed them yourself. Go ahead, get it over with. Don't worry about us. We'll get this guy without you."

Hotch closes his eyes for a moment, and when he opens them, they're shining with tears. You realize, with a shock, that you haven't seen him cry in decades. Not since the day after his father's funeral when Sean shut himself in his room for hours, because he truly believed that his brother didn't care about their family.

When he looks at Rossi again, a few tears have fallen down his cheeks. "I had ten years to do something about it."

"Look," he says simply, lowering his gun, "if you want to end up like Shaunessy, like Gideon, blaming yourself for everything, then you go ahead. But that voice in your head, it's not your conscience. It's your ego."

Hotch deflates, and you reach forward to wrap your fingers around his wrist, maintaining a steady connection. He looks at you, and you dip your chin into a tiny nod. It's not always your fault.

He looks back at Dave with a heavy sigh, but he doesn't pull his hand from your grasp. "You can put that away now."

Rossi raises his eyebrows as he tucks the gun away. "You sure?"

Hotch shakes his head, unable to hide his smile, and you let out a little chuckle. "It's a little dramatic, don't you think?"

"My wife always said I had a flair for the dramatic."

You and Hotch speak up at the same time. "Which one?"

Rossi shrugs. "All of them."

You laugh, before squeezing Aaron's wrist once more and letting go.

***

George Foyet is the Reaper.

You can't believe it even as the words circle around your brain. The team was able to catch him before he killed Colson, the journalist who wrote a book about him, but the victory still doesn't feel sweet.

I'm gonna be more famous than you even realize.

His last words before Derek cuffed him and handed him off to the police. They won't leave your head even as you step off the elevator into the office. Emily and JJ are chatting about some new restaurant in town as they step out ahead of you, and you walk to your desk in a trance, unable to figure out why you aren't able to let out the breath you've been holding since you left for Boston.

Your question is answered when JJ runs back from her office a few minutes later, her phone clutched in her hand and a panicked expression on her face. "Foyet escaped."

***

It takes a while for Derek to get over the Foyet news. He took his badge and credentials when he knocked him out, and even with the replacement he was given, you know the knowledge that Foyet is out there is still irking at him.

Hotch isn't much better. He's been throwing himself into work extra hard, and you're worried he's going to burn out or simply combust if he keeps at it.

This is exactly what Foyet wants, you want to scream. He's trying to get in your heads and mess with your life, without even being here.

But you don't say it.

***

He's been so immersed in work that he doesn't really get to talk to you until a case in Oregon, where an unsub has been killing people by hitting them with his car.

You're grabbing a cup of coffee at the local police station, pouring in an uncharacteristic packet of sugar, when he approaches you, perching on the edge of the counter. "Sugar?"

"I know," you sigh, tossing the empty packet into the trash can next to you. "I just wanted something a little sweeter today."

"Can't argue with that," he says softly, making you smile. It drops almost as fast as it appeared, and he scoots closer as he hands you a wooden stirrer. "How are you holding up?"

This case can't be easy for you, especially knowing how your mom died. You don't talk about it often, but when you do, he can tell it's because you need to let it out. He's the same way with his father, only the feelings he is hiding from are different.

"I'm fine," you say quickly, like it's an automatic response. You both know it's a lie, and you close your eyes for a beat, dropping the stirrer into your cup. "I should be fine, but...I don't know." He follows your gaze over to the open case file across the table, and notices how your eyes hang on the crime scene photos. The car wreckage. The tread marks on the road. "I don't know why this case is affecting me so much. I didn't even see the crash when my mom died."

He reaches forward and closes the file. "Grief works in interesting ways." If there's anything he has the authority to speak on, it's grief. But then again, so do you. He doesn't know if he would've gotten through the aftermath of his father's death without you. Thinking about it now, he doesn't think he's told anyone else the whole truth about his family. "Anything can be a trigger."

"What was your trigger?" you ask suddenly, turning to look at him. "After your dad died?" Your eyes are full of curiosity, and for a moment, he wonders again if you really can read his mind.

He takes a deep breath before answering. "For a while, almost everything was. The smell of his beer, the material of his favorite coat...it all made me so angry."

"I remember," you whisper, setting your coffee down, "but soon after, that changed." You look at him with a small smile. "You met Haley."

His jaw twitches and he realizes that he wasn't even thinking about her. The first person that came to mind when he thought about his healing process was you. Haley was everything to him, but she wasn't built for the life he grew up with. She wouldn't have been able to understand the rage flowing through his body when he thought of his father's death. The anger and hurt he felt, that somehow always transformed to guilt when he went back home for the night.

"Yeah," he says after a moment, accepting your judgment, even if it is a lie. He doesn't want to talk about this anymore, so he diverts back to the original subject. "Your mother was different. She loved you exactly how you deserved to be loved. Even if it hurts sometimes, it's just a reminder that you had something great."

That makes you smile, and he feels warmth fill his chest. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

He nods, patting your knee. "It's been known to happen."

***

You're in the passenger seat next to Derek when you see it. You watch him swerve his SUV into the unsub's truck in real time, but you still don't believe what you're seeing until the cars come to a stop, smoke billowing out of the front.

Derek screeches to a stop and there's glass everywhere as you throw yourself out of the SUV and race towards the collision site.

Aaron is stumbling out of his car when you reach him. There's a gash on his forehead, dripping blood down his face, and another on his arm. He tries to reach for his gun, but you grab his arms, holding him against the SUV.

"Sorry," he mutters through gritted teeth as you reach up to swipe the blood off his forehead before it falls into his eye. Your hand stays on his face as you survey the rest of him for any other wounds that may need your attention.

Once you're certain that he'll be okay, you turn back to him with a glare. "You scared the shit out of me." Your thumb is unconsciously rubbing circles on his jaw as he looks down at you. You are well aware that danger comes with the job description, but he also knows you would kill him if he ever put himself in serious danger, especially when it wasn't necessary. "Don't ever do that again."

He takes a deep breath as you pick a piece of glass out of his hair. When you return to meet his gaze, he reaches out to grab the strap of your vest. "I'm sorry."

You tug each other forward into a hug at seemingly the same time. You don't get the chance to be careful with his wounds as you collide into his chest, but you forget about everything else the moment his arms close around you. He's okay. He's alive.

"You don't get to die on me," you whisper into his collarbone as you tighten your grip around him. "Promise me."

You know it's not fair. You know it's not something he can control, especially with the kinds of people you chase on a daily basis, but it doesn't matter, because he knows you. He knows when you need the facts, and when you need reassurance, so instead of uttering a funny quip or a painful truth, he just says, "I promise."

***

Are you sure it's okay that I'm coming?

You type back a response as soon as you see the message on your phone. Of course. Dave invited you and Jack, and I would love to see you too.

A few minutes later, you get a simple Ok, so you set your phone down on the table and stand up to join the rest of your friends. With summer around the corner, Dave wanted to host a garden party, and after the last few months, you definitely don't mind the respite.

"Come get some more food," he tells you the moment you approach them by the edge of his huge yard. He's standing with Derek, Spencer, and Penelope by a long table adorned with steaming dishes of bread, pasta, and salad.

"I'll explode if I eat any more," you say with a laugh as Spencer stuffs another piece of bread into his mouth. For a small as he looks, he can be a bottomless pit when it comes to good food. "Have you guys seen Hotch?"

"He isn't here yet," Penelope notes as Derek wraps an arm around her. "I'll keep an eye out though."

"Do you think he'll bring Haley and Jack?" Spencer asks as JJ approaches with Henry in her arms.

"I told her to come," you say, tickling the baby's chin with the tip of your finger. "It'll be nice to see everyone together."

As though conjured by their questions, the door to the backyard opens and Jack steps out with Haley and Hotch right behind him.

"You're here!" You walk across the lawn and give her a quick hug, before bending down and lifting Jack into the air. "What's up, Jack-o-lantern? You're so big now."

"Yeah," he giggles, wrapping his arms around your neck. You press a loud kiss to the side of his head and he bursts into a fit of giggles as you tickle his belly with your free hand.

"I'm so glad you made it," Dave says from behind you as he comes over and gives Haley a hug. "We love having you here."

She raises her eyebrow at Hotch, but there's no intention behind it. Divorce seems to have treated them well, reminding them of all of the good that was there before everything else got in the way. "Thank you for inviting us."

"Seriously, thank you," Hotch agrees, before reaching out to take Jack from your arms.

"Any time," Dave says sincerely, before nodding at him. "Come help me grab some more wine from the cellar."

They disappear into the house, and you pull Haley down with you into two of the chairs by the edge of the sprawling yard. "Hotch and Jack are sweet together."

She nods, looking wistfully at the door. "He loves any time he gets with his dad."

"It can't be easy," you say slowly, hoping you aren't breaching a boundary unknown to you. "I've seen firsthand how busy the job has been getting recently. I haven't been home before midnight in over a week."

She's silent for a moment, and you worry that you crossed the line, but then she just smiles. "He's trying so hard...and that's all I can really ask for, isn't it?"

You suppose she's right. Not everyone is lucky enough to find a person who fights as hard as Aaron does to get home to his family at the end of the day.

"You're good for him, you know." You look at her as she crosses one leg over the other. "You always have been."

"You are too."

"I know," she says, before shaking her head. Her expression is warm as she smiles at you. "It's not the same, though. Even when you weren't around, you were in everything he did."

You don't know exactly where she's going with this, and you're acutely aware of the choruses of laughter floating over to you from across the lawn as she reaches out to squeeze your arm. "He loves you."

Your face transforms into what you imagine is a look of confusion. "I love him, too. He's my best friend."

Haley looks at you for a moment, before shaking her head with a nearly inscrutable sigh. "Anyway, thanks for convincing me to come. I'm gonna get some food."

~

Eventually, the sun sets, and the string lights in Dave's backyard turn on, along with the soft sounds of Ella Fitzgerald and Sam Cooke. He helps Derek and Will push the tables and chairs aside to make room for a dance floor, and soon, Haley is in his arms as they swing along to the lilting tunes filtering out over the yard.

It feels natural, dancing with her like this, but at the same time, he knows it's different now. He holds her firmly as she tilts in his arms, loose from the wine that Dave made sure was pouring all night, and she lets him swing her around the lawn, no care in the world.

Soon, the song changes, and she looks at him with a dreamy smile. "You love this song."

It's a soft tune by Sam Cooke, one he can't remember the name of right now, but he smiles at her as he nods. "I'm glad you're here. You and Jack."

"I missed you all," she says, before cracking a smile. "Mostly just Y/N though."

That makes him laugh, and before he knows it, Dave is walking over, with you on his hand, asking to trade partners for the song. "I haven't gotten to talk to Haley all night."

It's not the best excuse, but Haley doesn't seem to mind at all. "Of course, I'd love to dance."

Dave whisks her away, and Hotch holds a hand out for you, pulling you into another steady swing.

"I love this song," you whisper as the two of you fall into a rhythm. "I Wish You Love."

Right, that's what it's called. His hand settles on your waist as you grip his shoulder, and he can tell you've had a bit of wine too, but only because of the red tint of your cheeks.

"This is nice," you say after a few beats of silence. "We don't get to do this often."

He nods, turning you to make room for Derek and Emily, who are swinging heartily across the yard. "It's nice to see the kids together." He glances over your shoulder to peer at JJ, who has Henry and Jack in each of her arms. She has jumped head first into motherhood, and it suits her.

The song changes to something a little slower, so he steers you to the edge of the dance floor, taking control as your feet glide after him. Maybe you've had a bit more wine than he first assumed.

The thought makes him chuckle and you look at him with a quizzical expression. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing." He shakes his head, and clasps your hand tighter to hold you to him. He glances over your shoulder again and finds an excuse for his laughter almost immediately. "Garcia is trying to teach Reid how to dance."

You tug his arm immediately, spinning the two of you around so you can see the situation he described, and your face breaks out into a wide grin when you spot them a few paces over. "The poor kid has no coordination."

As you watch them dance, he watches you. The way the string lights glance over your exposed shoulders. The sparkle of your eyes under the waning moonlight. He realizes, not for the first time, how beautiful you are.

He could give himself the usual excuse, that it's just the time of the night, or the single glass of red he drank a few hours ago, but tonight, he lets himself just be there.

You're his best friend, and he loves you. He's here, dancing around the grass with some of his closest companions, and you're with him. For once, he can just be.

***

You can't the pile of shoes out of your head. Derek and Emily were able to find the girl before Lucas Turner killed her, but even after arresting him and getting her back to her mother, the case is still sticking with you.

89 pairs of shoes.

You shake the thought from your head as you get into Hotch's car in the field office parking lot. He insisted on driving you home after seeing the look on your face in the plane, and for once, you didn't argue with him.

"I can't stop thinking about them," you whisper as he pulls out of the lot. "So many lives that are forever changed because of two men."

You saw how Derek reacted when he found the box of muddy shoes. You saw JJ's face after she had to shoot Hightower for murdering the man who experimented on his sister.

"I'm thinking of giving everyone a few days off," he says, glancing over at you. "We all need some time to get away from this job. I'll put the request in tomorrow morning."

You nod, unable to voice your opinion. You feel depleted, without having even witnessed the horrors you know occurred up on that farm.

It takes a second, but eventually you regain the ability to speak. "Do you think it's worth it?" Your voice feels like sandpaper, but the question hurts more than anything else. "This life, I mean."

He mulls it over, and you notice his grip tighten on the steering wheel in front of him. "I think it has to be." Your brow furrows, and you don't know whether you want to scream or cry at how terrible that answer feels right now, but he isn't finished. "We have put too much of ourselves into this job to allow us to forget about all of the good that has come out of it too. If we choose to forget the good, then none of it means anything."

You look at him in wonder, realizing he has voiced exactly what you needed to hear. You're constantly awestruck by how he always seems to know exactly what to say to bring back your sense of purpose.

"You're good at this whole leadership thing," you say softly, cracking a smile when he looks at you. "You help me grow."

He pushes you just hard enough to help you transform into something so much bigger and better than you hoped you could be. His chin dips and he turns back to the road as your neighborhood comes into view. "You help me grow too."

You lean your cheek on your palm as you snuggle further into the seat. "I called Josh Cramer, over at organized crime."

His eyebrows raise with surprise and he glances over at you. "Jeff's old boss? How did that go?"

During your last interaction at the BAU office all those years ago, you weren't ready to see him yet. He still reminded you of the hate and anger and guilt you felt over Jeff's death.

The last few months have been kinder to you, though. It doesn't hurt as much when you think about him.

"It went well," you sigh, looking out the window at the houses passing by. "Even though it'll never really be the same, it felt more like old times, if that makes any sense."

"It does," he says simply, providing you an acknowledgement before letting you fill in the spaces yourself.

You take a deep breath, feeling the air fill your lungs, before letting it out again. "He told me a story from before Jeff went undercover. It was just a dumb story about some night his team went out for burgers after wrapping up a case." Your breaths get shallower, but the tears you are expecting don't come. "Apparently, he made the team go to three different burger spots, because he wanted to bring me back curly fries, and none of the places were selling the kind I like."

You clear your throat to dispel the tightness, and when you look back at him, the car has come to a stop in front of your house.

"That sounds like him," Hotch says, smiling at you as you chuckle to yourself.

You nod, closing your eyes for a beat. "I guess I just wanted to say that, yeah, our lives are sometimes changed inalterably, but...it's not always bad. I met him, I loved him...and then I lost him, but I still wouldn't take back any of it."

His eyes crinkle and he looks out the windshield for a brief second. "Me neither."

It's already late, and you don't want to take up any more of his night, so you bid him goodbye and shut your door after making him promise to actually get some rest.

Your front door shuts behind you, and you hear the sound of his car driving off as you exhale heavily. Your house feels big with you here alone, but for once, you revel in the solitude. Finally, a few days of peace and quiet.

TAGLIST: @citrusiove, @yiiiikesmish, @mdanon027, @alice-w0rld, @beata1108, @bakugocanstompme, @raely-study, @himboelover, @hermionegalathynius, @rousethemouse, @calif0rniadreamin, @tolerateit13, @delusional-13s-blog, @madesavage05, @littlemisskavities, @love13tter, @domithebomi, @guacam011y, @averyhotchner, @silver-studios (message me to be added!)

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #hotch x reader #hotch x female!reader #aaron hotchner #hotch #criminal minds #penelope garcia #spencer reid #derek morgan #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss #david rossi #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner series #criminal minds series #criminal minds season four #hotch fic #criminal minds fanfiction #anchor series #anchor

[callmerainman]

in having ✨ideas✨ again, and this one’s very fluffy

could we maybe have a sinner! adam oneshot where the reader plays a mandolin and decides one day to play this song in a very low key attempt to impress romance the guy? and maybe adam’s all like “yeah it’s alright I guess” but he’s totally transparent.

please, and thank you

SHOW AND TELL | sinner!Adam x sinner!Reader

word count. 1.7k

tags. Adam being in denial, Reader plays mandolin, fluff, sinner!Adam, gn!sinner!Reader

a/n. aaaa sorry for taking so long! hope you'll enjoy this because the prompt was so cute and funny 😭

This could be a chance.

You rotate the wooden instrument between your hands. A mandolin, your musical companion for so many years. You would have never thought that one day you'd be using it for trying to pick up someone. Especially not the First Man, Adam.

It's "Show and Tell" night at the Hazbin Hotel. The monthly occurrence you never understood, because no one really ever showed anything worth talking about. Angel Dust would put on some of his old porn videocassettes, Husk a cheap bottle of booze that he'll come up with a story for right on the spot, and let's not talk about the time Cherri Bomb showed one of her most recent, newly advanced creations that almost blew the whole Hotel up to pieces.

Also, the last couple of months, Show and Tell night has been graced with the addition of Adam. When he set foot in the Hotel it was clear that he still didn't really believe in Charlie's project. He just didn't have any other options. But, after some time, a hint of comfort was starting to show on the arrogant fallen angel. He became tamer, more sufferable to be around, almost pleasing sometimes. At first, you thought that you would have never had anything to share with Adam. But then conversations started to flow in the common rooms, and you two started to hang out outside the Hotel, even opening up to each other.

Adam wasn't that bad. Adam was funny to be around. Adam was easy to talk to. And Adam was pretty and...

Oh. Oh!

You crushed hard. Denial was the first stage, because c'mon, that's Adam, the former leader of the Extermination, a sadistic bastard. But he was also the one to greet you first when you came down for breakfast in the morning, who sat next to you at dinner to have some small talk, and the one who laughed more at your jokes. You learned to accept your feelings, but then a new problem presented itself. How exactly do you pull Adam?

He was more interesting than you thought that you could ever be. Not to inflate his ego, but he was the First Man to ever be created. He named the animals of Earth, he has been around for so long that he has seen it all. And he had two knock out ex-wives! How could you even compete? He played the guitar and was in a rock band in Heaven. But then, remembering that information, you glanced over at the wooden mandolin hung up to a hook on the right wall of your Hotel room. Maybe Adam didn't like you, but he for sure liked music. And mandolin wasn't exactly his type of instrument, but you still had music on your side. Yeah, this could be a chance.

——

You and the other guests take a seat each on the couches and chairs of the common room. Adam is sitting right in front of you, your eyes interlocked for a second before you both look away. Geez your cheeks feel hot. Then here comes Charlie, waltzing in the middle of the circle traced by the seats, smiling happily as she announces Show and Tell night. She suggests Angel to go first.

"I hope it's something a little...different from your usual presentations" she proposes.

Angel cocks an eyebrow upwards "No miss, this is exactly what you're all thinking of".

Husk groans, dragging a paw down his face as Angel puts on one of his porn movies he starred in. You look everywhere but the screen, and this includes Adam. He's not paying attention, playing with his VPhone behind his crossed legs so that Vaggie won't notice and threaten him with her angelic spear. As you throw him quick glances throughout the night, you realize that he quite literally didn't pay attention to anyone, not even a second. Concern starts to build up in you. What if he doesn't even look at you?

Adam only intervenes when it's his turn, positioning himself in the middle of the circle with a loud sigh. He then rummages in his robe, and takes out his designated object.

"A bra?!" Cherri Bomb asks.

"Yeah" a sly smirk spreads on Adam's face "this is the first bra a chick ever threw at me during a show. The first of many, many bras"

"How the fuck did you even bring it down here?" you question, more worried about that circumstance than the origin of the underwear article.

"You don't know my ways" Adam replies.

He keeps rambling some more minutes about how he broke Heaven's record for bras thrown on stage, with the smuggest, biggest shit-eating smirk known to man. After he's done, he plops down on the couch again, ready to not listen to anything the next guests have to show. And he does, either by taking a nap or playing on his phone.

"It's your turn, (Y/N)!" Charlie announces, clasping her hands together.

Shit. You reach for the case resting near your ankles. You open up the hard cover and take out your wooden mandolin.

"You play instruments?" Angel Dust asks, surprised.

"Yeah, I practice everyday" you say.

Of course no one knew, because Adam always has his rock music and amps blasted on max and he obliterates the hell out of any sound from your Hotel floor.

"I used to play mandolin when I was alive, it was my first instrument. I thought that I might as well bring it down here with me".

"C'mon, play something!" Charlie encourages you, a bright smile sparkling on her adoring face.

Here comes the difficult part. You gulp, feeling your guts squeezing from nervousness. Because Adam is staring. Since Charlie called your name, you noticed that Adam had put down his phone and he's now actually paying attention to you, unlike how he did with everyone else. This is sending you over the edge. Out of embarrassment and excitement at the same time. Damn butterflies in the stomach. You just hope to not mess this up.

You stroke the chords with your thumb to make sure they're correctly tuned. You shoot Adam a quick glance. Still staring at you, nonchanlanty, but he's watching. Just like you planned. You take a deep breath, you position your hands correctly and then you start playing the mandolin. The tune is relaxed, dreamy, mesmerising as you pluck the strings with ease. Your fingers almost flow with the sounds coming out of the instrument. You make sure not to mess anything up. Your technique is flawless, so there shouldn't be any worry. What's worrisome is trying not to look at Adam too much. You do give him a few glances to check for any reaction, but this could lead to missing pieces. You take a deep breath and go on strumming. Finally, despite Adam's wanted but feared attention, you manage to relax and let the sweet serenade curl around the room. As the delicate melody unfurls, you notice Adam shifting, placing his chin in his palm as he gives you his undivided attention. Then, you signal the end of the tune by finger picking a calm, lingering chord progression. The second you put the mandolin down, an excited clapping of hands makes you jump on the spot.

"Bravo! Bravo! That was amazing, (Y/N)!" Charlie erupts.

You chuckle "Thanks, Charlie"

Your gaze shifts from Charlie to Adam. He was still staring, but something's different. Is he blushing? Are his pupils dilated? Or maybe is just the result of your delusional imagination. Maybe not, because even someone else noticed Adam's change in attitude.

"Sooo, Adam, whatcha think?" Angel Dust cooes, a pointy smirk curling on his face.

Adam snaps out of his state, his eyes shooting up at Angel.

"Uh?" he goes, defiant but at the same time confused.

"You seemed to reaaaally enjoy it" Angel inquires.

Adam's eyebrows shoot upwards, his lips tight and reduced to a thin line. Oh he's blushing.

"I ehm-" he stutters.

"Right!" Charlie is quick to interrupt him "What did you think about it, Adam? Share it with us!"

Adam looks at you for a brief moment. You don't say anything, you're probably as embarrassed as him. He breaks eye contact, scoffing.

"Yeah I don't know, whatever" he mumbles, crossing his arms in an attempt to look unimpressed.

His own body is betraying him. His foot rythmically tapping on the floor, his heart racing, his scrunched, nervous face and his cheeks now turned into a hot mess.

"You sure? Seems like Cupid hit you in the right spot" Angel elbows Cherri Bomb, who giggles "Your face looks as hot as me"

Adam grits his teeth, clenching his fingers around his clothed arms.

"Yeah!" Cherri Bomb intervenes "you need a hand? A cup of water? Some air? (Y/N), you broke this guy!"

Adam jumps in his own seat, pointing a furious finger towards Cherri and Angel who are laughing their asses off.

"Cupid didn't hit shit! I said that I don't give a flying fuck about (Y/N) and how fucking good they look when they play mand-FUCK!"

"Ooooh" Angel and Cherri sing song in unison, a devilish grin.

"Aww, Adam! That's so sweet of you!" Charlie chirps, genuinely proud of him.

Adam lets out a frustrated, anger-boiling growl before hurriedly getting up from his seat. His newly sprout horns grow bigger, his tail quivers and his wings puff. He starts to hysterically point at everyone in the room.

"You know what? Fuck this shit! Fuck this stupid Show and Tell night, fuck this Hotel, and fuck you, and you, and you, and fuck everybody! Except (Y/N)- no wait shit!"

And then, Adam punches the air and just storms off, leaving Angel and Cherri Bomb laughing behind him.

"Oh my God..." you whisper, incredulous as you rub your shoulders up and down with your hands.

Angel gets up and plops down on the couch next to you, leaning towards you with a smug grin.

"I dunno why would you hit that, but good job" he says, offering your a fist bump.

You let out a small chuckle before pounding Angel's fist.

Nailed it.

#hazbin hotel #writers on tumblr #hazbin hotel adam #adam #adam hazbin hotel #adam x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #vivziepop #hazbin hotel adam x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #adam x you #adam hazbin #hazbin adam #adam fanfiction

[ixiot-ghostrebel]

Hello are you still doing the SAGAU for reader gets mad and blowing up at people for certain characters? If you are can you do traveler or Lumine if you don’t want to do a general head cannon and fischl still? I’m so angry about how many NPC world quests that now seem like a pattern of traveler helps and then gets backstabbed and left to die and just really think those NPC need to under stand the gravity and anger of the players.

Hello, @celestialsiren! Yes, supposedly, I am still doing this series lol—I don't see why I should end it, seeing as there's always new characters that people request for. Ofc I'll do the Traveler!

Click Me For Part 1!

Click Me For Part 2!

Click Me For Part 3!

Reader Defending the Traveler! (Also No Vice Versa)

(Disclaimers: This May be OOC, And This Post Will Mainly be Using Lumine as "The Traveler." However, This Post Still Can Be Read as GN!Traveler or Aether.)

Lumine

To be frankly honest, I think you (the Reader) would feel pretty connected to Lumine. She's understanding, she's calm, and most importantly, she gets what it's like not to be from Teyvat. She's passed the celestial atlas to venture the world that is Teyvat, only to be prevented by the Unknown God.

Safe to say, you both were like two peas in a pod. And you were willing to travel with her and find her brother. Lumine gets you a lot, and you refuse any harm coming her way.

That includes verbal complaints. Like, honestly—Lumine's done so much for Teyvat for an outlander, and this is how they treat her?! You weren't having it.

So you planted your foot down, and boy, was your glare menacing. Your words were harsher than the blizzards of Dragonspine, and your glare was as menacing as the Dead Skeleton of Orobashi in Watatsumi Island.

Anyone who you deemed as enemy—in this situation, these good-for-nothing, took-for-granted gossipers—was paling at the seems of the Almighty Creator stomping their egos down. And, not gonna lie, Lumine kinda likes watching some of them. Some of the insults you used were actually used in other worlds—something only Lumine would know, but others didn't. It was kind of hilarious.

Alas, she can't have you go around and go all out all the time. Someone needs to make sure that the Creator doesn't try to decimate random folks, even if they are pretty infuriating.

"Your Grace." Lumine puts her hand on your shoulder. "Let's hurry up and finish this commission. We still need to get those rewards." You huff, but you let the insulters go, without a threatening note.

Yeah...she was not expecting to be an occurrence with so many other characters, but hey! Lumine's not gonna stop you :)

Ghost Rebel Side Notes: And we're done! Sorry if it's really low quality lol—I am so tired as I'm writing this :') I do hope you guys enjoyed it, though! Don't feel discouraged to keep sending me requests!

At this rate requests are probably the only thing that's keeping my blog alive. My blog is on constant life support LOL

✦ Check out The Ghost Rebel’s Blog Description & Info Page to See if Their Mailbox is Open! ✦

#genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #self aware genshin #sagau x reader #genshin self aware #sagau #sagau genshin #yandere sagau #sagau brainrot #genshin cult au #sagau cult au #sagau lumine #sagau aether #sagau traveler

[jkbabiey]

mess it up • mark lee

wc: ~1.6K notes: cute little drabble for u guys starring my boi mark lee; all my gracie abrams stans will understand the references ;) it's angsty guys, so... yeah, enjoy!!

"hello?"

it was a little past 3 in the morning when mark was woken up by the ringing of his phone and your name on his screen. he hadn't given in on your first try, nor on the second. it was the third time you called him that night and mark was having a hard time not picking up.

but it wasn't the first time you did this. nor the second.

"hi," you said, your voice whispered and unstable.

you hadn't spoken in the past two weeks or so. not after you decided to play with mark's heartstrings for the millionth time, completely ignoring his undying feelings for you.

as if you had no idea they even existed.

mark and you had met during childhood, by chance, due to his inability to kick a soccer ball in the right direction - it ended up hitting you in the face and chucking your freshly-bought strawberry ice cream straight to the floor. he bought you a new ice cream (mixing up the flavors and buying a bubblegum-flavored ice cream instead). one year later, after you became self-proclaimed best friends, mark showed up by your window with a bucket of strawberry ice cream in his hands and a confession of his love for you in the tip of his tongue, promising to treat you right and to never get your ice cream order wrong again.

nothing ever worked out in mark's favor tho. you were awfully quick to dismiss his feelings, watching the disappointment settle in his eyes. crestfallen he walked back home and that same night, at around 1 am, without your parents knowing, you sneaked out to throw rocks at marks window, proposing to forget about that little bump and spend the night watching movies and eating strawberry ice cream. mark promptly accepted your proposal, letting you in.

that became the one topic neither you nor mark ever touched again. you never acknowledged the intense feelings mark nurtured for you every time you hung out at his or your house, and that became harder and harder for you, because if there was anything mark was awful at doing was hiding any emotion behind those eyes. his eyes never lied, especially when they settled on you and shined like he had never graced a more beautiful star.

so on your 19th birthday, you kissed him on the mouth, absolutely inebriated, after noticing the way he kept marveling at you as you swayed your hips side to side, with those big bright eyes of his. your lips were soft against his and you smiled at him after it ended, just to walk back to your group of girlfriends to keep dancing like you hadn't just kissed your best friend.

mark finally got the guts to bring it up again the day after your birthday, shyly muttering that he didn't think he had changed much from when he was 13 and in love with you. he remembers you just starring at him right in the eyes after the words left him, before your lips tentatively pecked his. right before your hands started wandering through parts of his body no one had ever touched before. right before you took his virginity and made him fall ten times harder for you.

just for you to ghost him for three whole months after it. you stopped answering his texts and calls. whenever mark tried to come to your place it was your mom opening the door and magically you were never home.

and then you called him one random night, crying, asking him to come over. he did. and just like that you were best friends again.

mark would always give you anything you asked from him, including the sudden kisses you stole from him, and the nights of pleasure in the middle of his sheets, from time to time. you took it all. and you took all that while still claiming to be his best friend and nothing more when your friends asked if you two were dating.

"i'm sorry, did i wake you up?" you asked through the phone. mark could tell you weren't home and had been crying.

"well, it is 3 am" he chuckled, trying to ease the nerves he knew were overflowing in your system. you chuckled too, muttering a small 'right'. "are you alright?"

"yeah... are you?"

"yeah."

it was silent after that. all you heard was his calm breathing and all he heard was your quick one paired with the sound of your sniffles. "can i come over?" you whimpered. mark could picture you with tearful eyes, biting down on your bottom lip to keep the cries from erupting.

you heard mark sigh. "y/n," he mumbled. "you can't keep doing this."

it had happened again. the running. it was as if a switch turned in you as soon as mark mentioned any type of love he nurtured for you. and you proved your avoidant nature once again two weeks ago when after a whole night spent in mark's bed, he let out the tiniest 'i love you' as he came inside you. it amazed him how you immediately freed yourself from his embrace after it was over, putting on your clothes in a rush and getting out of his room without saying a word or looking back at his resentful eyes for a second.

"i know mark, i just- please," you cried.

"dude, i'm serious. we've been doing this for years," you said, the anger he felt finally showing in his voice, even though he tried to sound as gentle as possible. "you can't keep giving me hope, just to freak out when i talk about the love you know i have for you. it's not like you're unaware of it. I've told you. and I'll tell you as many times as it takes for you to understand how i feel about you!"

"i know how you feel," you said, your voice wavering and mark closed his eyes at the sound burying his face in the palm of his hand. "i know, but I'm not ready to be what you want me to be. i can't do it-"

"well, you do a terrible job at showing that. you think kissing me is a good way of showing me you want nothing to do with me?"

"that's not-"

"y/n stop! if that's how you feel don't fucking call me at three in the morning asking to come over! just leave me alone."

"but i miss you," you cried, full sobs echoing through the call now. "I'm sorry. i can't stay away from you like that. you're my best friend!"

"that's not what i want to be tho!" he said, tone getting exponentially louder and he had to remind himself his parent were sleeping downstairs. "what do you not get? i want to be your boyfriend," he continued and heard your cries intensifying again. "you can't keep this up." he muttered, voice tired and heavy. "you come and go as you please, literally playing with my feelings. because you know i love you and I'll give you anything you want. you want to come over? fine. you want a kiss? okay. you want sex? I'll give it to you. I'll give you anything and you take advantage of that every fucking time. if you don't feel the same way, please, just stay away. let me get over this because if you just keep coming back i won't ever move on. you'll just keep hurting me."

by now, you could clearly hear mark's voice getting heavy with tears he was probably holding back for your sake.

"i know i never was the best to you. i'm sorry. i'm sorry i made you cry tonight. i didn't mean to," you said, sniffling in the middle of your words. "i love you."

and just like that you hung up. immediately, mark broke down in his bed. his back pressed against his mattress, his hands covering his wet eyes as his chest heaved quickly in the darkness of his room. the last thing he ever wanted was to make you feel bad about anything. he loved you with his whole body and soul and had to struggle with himself to not call you back after your quick 'i love you'. but then he would keep walking in circles and letting you walk all over him once again.

he wouldn't give in. not this time.

he fell asleep with a heavy heart and a pounding head - missing your fourth call.

'pick up dude' - y/n, 4:04 AM

'bro i was actually outside your place this whole time. can u come open the door? let's talk fr' - y/n, 4:05 AM

'pls it's freezing' - y/n, 4:05 AM

'do i have to throw rocks at your window again?' - y/n, 4:06 AM

'fine, i'll just go home then' - y/n, 4:08 AM

'i get that you're very angry at me, but I love you. i'm sorry if i fell out of line when i called you. I want to take this seriously, you'll just have to guide me through it all because I'm very very VERY scared. u know i never had a boyfriend, right? please call me when you see this. pls pls pls call me, even if you hate me and don't want to date me anymore.' - y/n, 4:27 AM

'can't lose you.' - y/n, 4:27 AM

#mark lee #mark lee fwb #mark lee angst #mark lee fluff #mark lee imagines #mark lee x reader #mark #nct #nct 127 #nct dream #nct u #nct drabble #nct angst #nct fluff #nct dream drabble

[farwayloner]

"Sweet Gardenia": The Bloom 🌺❄

Bi-Han X Cold!Reader

WARNINGS:

F!Reader, Pre-MK1 Campaign, No use of Y/N, Kinda slowburn, Overworking, a lot of flower metaphors, Mention of Starvation Tomas slander :( , Reader being stubborn, Bi-Han being soft.

For a better experience, listen to this song while reading. :)

A/N Note: THIS IS MY FIRST FANFIC. ANY FEEDBACK IS APPRECIATED.

Seriously, this is the third time I've had to re-make this. I accidentally uploaded it first then I deleted it by accident.

This took forever to write! But thank you to my friend Gutsie for the feedback :)

I have had other projects that include writing so this not my first writing project.

A part 2 could come out if I have the motivation.

I might open a request page if not.

Expect many metaphors! I use a dictionary to enhance the words I occupy! Yeah i'm so good⁉️

My native language is not English, expect countless grammatical errors.

Enjoy!

-🌺

Gardenias, flowers that flourish and bloom with an inmense amount of rain, letting them bloom to fulfill their entire potential. Keeping their beauty far away from the sun, in solitude and coldness to fullfill the promise under the white shining moon. In a way to sink down back to the roots.

That is how you can describe yourself as, instead of broken piece of glass lying in a withered flower field that you truly knew you were.

A delicate flower, pushed to the edge by a will of steel. If not, a withered away chrysanrhemum.

You had endless ideas of what you could describe yourself. A total failure.

You saw in yourself a weed that needed to be pulled away by grief, to wither away. And stop existing.

That is what you only wanted. You had fulfilled your potential and that is what mattered the most. What more is there to this garden of existence? Your heart will still be locked away.. a cold persona taking it's place as a façade.. Hiding the true self you have inside. The frozen you, the one that needed to be thawed.

Yet here you were.. The grandmistress of a rising clan, built from the ground and already in the riches spectrum. It was nothing, but honest work.

A work fueled by your frustration of the past events, it already bloomed into success.

Under many stacks of paperwork, graced by the finest silks and materials.. You were yet unhappy. A productive life and success made your way, yet most would call you ungrateful, insecure..

Or ambitious.

You always kept up most nights if you didn't have the exhaustion to fall asleep instantly after a long day of working, to keep the utmost pace of your life. Yet you never slept. Never rested as if you were a.. stubborn camellia.

No one to walk beside you. This wealth made you more than unhappy. But no one was worthy of your affections. Other gardens tried to kindle with you and it caused you to push more away.

In younger years, you were a root that needed to grow, in a healthier way. Winding vines only made you slowly wither away, taking what you had at your sleeve.

Your heart. Locking it down tightly and never opening it again, for the sake of your happiness.

This pace would rather destroy what you have built rather than strengthen the bond.

You were going to last as long as a bee at this pace.

"It is not enough." You always thought to yourself.. keeping it deep inside the roots of your existence. It would forever be locked there until someone pulled the weeds.

A cold heart like yours isn't deserving of love.

That's what you always convinced yourself.

Undeserving.

Not enough.

Reassurance wasn't enough.

It never was.

-🌺

You stood beside your quarter's window, a view right to the beautiful-tended to garden and those foolish blood-colored gardenias outside your window.

They seemed to be communicating in a way to you, enjoying the calming sun as they bloomed and enjoyed the last clutches of autumn. As if their secret passion would let them survive the soon coming winter.

"Beautiful. Yet foolish." You muttered to yourself. Even after being alone, you kept to yourself.

Patience is key.

Flowers were always a fascination to you, you had decorated the gardens with many beautiful flowers that bloom around all year, but those gardenias.. they couldn't stay through the winter.

It only reminded you of yourself.

You knew that those flowers were beautiful, the red color was one of the most beautiful. Yet you felt jealousy at the bloody flowers. You wouldn't indulge in those.. passions that they are meaning to, love.. partnership. The thought made you scowl, your façade falling apart.

Your clan was utmost important. The only sense of independence you had at the moment after escaping your planter's clutches, it gave you the position you have now. And you couldn't afford to lose it.

Ever.

Yet those frivolous arranged marriage proposals arrived each day at her clan's gates. How foolish to think that she would accept them. They only want her power, and her wealth. It only makes your patience wither away.

With a sigh, you returned back to work. Yet your thoughts kept going back and then. Was love truly deserving of one like you? Or that façade would bring you nowhere near a friendship?

You wouldn't indulge in those senses.. yet. As none have ever captured your heart after it has been locked away. The way to thaw it is unsure to you as well.

This continuous delusional thoughts kept you away from your work. You wouldn't tie yourself until your demise over a man who does not appreciate you. It would be a quick demise.

Yet,

You are losing hope on expanding the power and control you have over the lands. Even as you keep overworking yourself. You will have no other choice to marry the leader of another influential clan. It would be the true bad end.

But it is not alright to give up, yet. As hope will start. Winter is starting to arrive and it always arises new opportunities.

And your thoughts will always keep you to the bloody-colored flowers that mean passion and secret love. A visible furrow of eyebrows and scowled appeared on your face. You could already hear your mother scolding you due to the

"Not lady-like mannerisms".....

You really started to hate red.

-❄

The Lin Kuei.

A formidable yet stealthy warrior ninja clan that specializes in defending Earthrealm.

It's former grandmaster, had been very influential on the up-rise of the Lin Kuei. And brought it to the highest-bloom point.

Even at a low-profile state, the clan bloomed into a successful amount of wealth and power.

But the grandmaster's first-born son: Bi-Han, a snowdrop in a human mantle that was trained his entire childhood to become the grandmaster.

He did not seem to have his father's ideals.

He matured earlier than expected in a will of steel. Cold, calculating and unforgiving. Commonly referenced to a demon in human skin. His childhood being something he is ashamed off.

Bi-Han resents his father for his harsh treatment during his roots: Being referenced that weaknesses are a horrible mistake, relationships and friendships will only be distractions and cause weaknesses.

"Weaknesses are failures. Failures are unacceptable and you know of it." The former grandmaster's words were imprinted in Bi-Han's head. A common echo of reminder in those roots of his. How he resented that.. doddering-old man.

Bi-Han's frustration often caused him to snap at his brothers, who didn't receive the harsh training their father gave to him. Yet he felt guilty at his usual hurting words, but his duties and stress would be constantly eating him inside.

After the former grandmaster withered away, Bi-Han had taken the mantle of his father, wanting to bloom the Lin Kuei into a better glory than to protect Earthrealm.

No time for friendships, relationships.

Or his brothers.

His duty was the most important aspect in his life, trained for it since his birth. Having to constantly work on financial situations, scold recruits and warriors for the unsatisfactory performances. It was a harsh job.

But these recruits needed a vine to pull them back together. To teach them a lesson,

That they wouldn't forget.

Yet here was Bi-Han, in the cold winter of Articka, sharing a meal under the shining moon with his brothers.

He barely made time to "discuss duties" with them. But due to the accomodate weather and temperature, he made an up-most exception. Not that he would admit.

Bi-Han was deep in his thoughts, while his brothers enjoyed the steaming buns right in-front of him placed on the dinner table.

Though he made an attempt to ignore the simple delicasies. Bi-Han's concentrated gaze was staring right into the soul of a newly-grown nearby tree,that increased snow started to fall from.

He had a work-loaded week, and now he could enjoy respite digesting steaming buns with his brothers. A quiet respite if he could just enjoy it.

"Winter is very close by and times will get harsher." Bi-Han though to himself. Even after mastering Cryomancy, he must prepare for the harsh climate.

Not only for himself, but for the rest of Lin Kuei warriors.

Bi-Han was brought out of his thoughts when his blood-brother, Kuai Liang, spoke to catch his attention.

"I was analizing the climate. I apologise for the distractions." Bi-Han tried to dismiss the subject with a wave of his hand.

He despised being seen as vulnerable. As if he was compared to a flower. Bi-Han scowled at the thought.

"Continue, Kuai Liang." Bi-Han said coldly, staring with thorns of long-frozen impatience at his adopted brother: Tomas, for a second.

Then back at Kuai Liang. With the same gaze.

Kuai Liang cleared his throat, his high body warmth due to his Pyromancy abilities, was now warming the garden of the conversation.

The frozen flowers showed cracks and they shattered due to the unusual cold. Which Bi-Han managed to ignore with no hesitation.

"Now that you have become grandmaster,

I believe that someone could join to command the Lin Kuei by your side, Brother." Kuai Liang sounded slightly hesitant.

Bi-Han raised an eyebrow. His icy malice fading by the moment.

"Explain yourself, Kuai Liang." Bi-Han crossed his arms with a questioning look, any more nonsense and he would explode, as a caterpillar out of it's metamorphosis phase. A resentment about to push out in an avalanche.

"..." Kuai Liang sighed.

"A partner by your side... Someone to be there.. emotionally and physically." Kuai Liang sounded more confident. Bi-Han allowed himself to root a strange.. considering glint in his eyes.

But before Bi-Han could respond with a snarky comment as usual, Tomas chided in.

"By what he means, is a wife by your side, Bi-Han." Bi-Han stood up abruptly, startling the two brothers.

Bi-Han glared at the both of them, and more harshly at Tomas. His tone was meant to bite deeply.

"Dismiss that nonsense, Tomas!" Bi-Han said while pointing a finger to the two of them.

"You know nothing of what is good for me."

Bi-Han directed his finger to himself.

"Only I do."

After the harsh snap, Bi-Han sat back down and digged into a steaming bun. His gaze moving away from the brothers.

Kuai Liang gave a "I am used to this" stare, and then gazed assuringly at Tomas who seemed taken aback.

Kuai Liang stood up and approached Bi-Han, placing a warm hand on his shoulder.

"Brother.. It could give the clan more glory. The freedom you truly want it to have.. It is not a weakness, but a benefit." Kuai Liang said reassuringly while Bi-Han only responded with an unamused stare.

Then Bi-Han looked down, considering.

"The Lin Kuei requires my focus more than anything else." His tone was more composed.

"Any weakness or distraction will cause failure." Bi-Han continued still composed, the iceberg seemed about to break. "And all types of failure are unacceptable."

Tomas went in to defend Kuai Liang. His tone more.. Desperate and he gulped afterwards.

"Bi-Han, I am aware that you are seeking perfection.. yet you fear failure more than everything else." Tomas tried to reassure Bi-Han, but the latter responded with a glare and a slam on the table.

He had enough.

"Hold that tongue if you wish to keep it, Tomas." Bi-Han said very harshly. "I have no intentions of discussing this." Bi-Han left the icy gardens.. Leaving Tomas and Kuai Liang with disappointment.

Bi-Han was sat down on his office.. Feeling guilty after snapping again to his brothers. On that same damn chair that he always hunched over and got all his back pains from. How he'd wish to freeze it, and throw it to somewhere else to be never seen.

How he'd wish he'd get out of his head those foolish delusional thoughts. To stop snapping at his brothers and not consider Kuai Liang's proposal.

Bi-Han really thought.. Is he really ache-ing for a love he probably doesn't even know he really requires? Or.. deserves.

If he did, he only wished for a loyal partner.

A woman fit to his needs.. Not someone weak, someone who had a will of steel similar to his. A gaze that defies nature. Someone who he would trust entirely, to the point of worship. Yet he didn't wish to show it as a weakness.

He wanted to nurture those seeds if he did manage to get attached. He knew it was unlikely, but all he wished is for the new blossoms to open.

Appearances were everything.

It truly made him want to rip everything apart.

But his duties are always the up-most important. Nothing will change his ways.

Maybe another day, another life or another moment, he could indulge in those thoughts. But for now, the Lin Kuei were up-most important.

Even if it cost him everything.

-🌺

You held in your hands yet another rejected arranged marriage proposal.

The sun had fallen, and the sweet breeze of the evening had turned to the strong yet comforting mantle that arrived each winter.

Yet another clan has tried to bring down yours after you rejected their arranged marriage proposal.

It is not a surprise either. It has happened way too many times to count.

"These power-hungry fools." You knew you had no chance at this point. You had to marry into a clan and bloom ever more.

As a clan leader, your duties were always destined to benefit your future and not handle the past.

Yet you had to find the proper one.

You decided to check onto the many arranged marriage deals.. many were asking for 75% of revenue from your clan. That made you wince.

You have denied the blossom of any deep feelings, causing many of your stress and emotional unhappiness.

The gardenias outside your window didn't have the "positive" aura they once had. As if the cold winter had affected their once up-bright bloom.

Reminded you of someone.

And it kept you intrigued, contemplating the idea to investigate flowers once you have cleared your duties out of your schedule.

You will never catch a break at this point.

But for the sake of the clan, you will start to meet the one who will thaw that frozen flower within you.

To find the only worthy one, but only time would tell.

Once dawn arrived,

You would be ready to let the seeds grow.

For your sake.

-❄

The Lin Kuei temple was bustling with noise of the recruits trying to blossom their fighting techniques. On the quieter side,

Bi-Han was working on his office, handling important matters that were very indeed important, but not very important enough to mention. When Sektor entered his office with a paper on his hands. Bi-Han welcomed him in with only a stare and let him speak,

Crossing his arms over his chest. His gaze unamused as prepared to hear Sektor's usual ramblings.

"Well then." Bi-Han said slightly impatient.

"Grandmaster.. I assume you had accepted Kuai Liang's proposal?" Sektor said calmly as he placed the paper on Bi-Han's desk, letting him inspect the paper.

Bi-Han quirked an eyebrow.

"This, is a clan that Cyrax and I have been observing for the past 3 months." Sektor explained calmly once again, with backups of evidence slipping by. "Their financial debates and the way they continuously continue to grow is outstanding." Sektor looked Bi-Han, asking for approval on to keep rambling.

"...Very well. Keep explaining." Bi-Han's tone was one of interest. He inspected the paper, and nodded as Sektor spoke.

The lower part of the paper read as:

'The only way to affiliate as such is for the current leaders of the clans to conclude a marriage.' Bi-Han furrowed his eyebrows and then looked at Sektor who continued on rambling about how the clan's leader intellect was one of "other realms".

Yet, Sektor continued to explain.

"It is run by a woman. We haven't managed to collect any information from her. But from what we have.. investigated, is that she is a formidable business-partner.

It would make her intellect run the financial parts, and your strength to run the troops."

"This plan would make the clan bloom intensively, Grandmaster." Sektor added,

As if trying to convince him. Sektor stood tall, a hand to his chest. He was loyal to his Grandmaster, no matter what.

Then grew another sentence asking for Bi-Han's approval. Snapping Bi-Han out of his considering thoughts.

"This is a chance we can't afford to lose."

Bi-Han thought for a moment. He knows he can't refuse. Yet Sektor's proposal echo'ed on Bi-Han's head.

This could be the greater chance for the Lin Kuei to have the freedom it deserves. Growing inmensively in power would bring it to what he always envisioned..

And to... accept Kuai Liang's proposal.. He wasn't completely against it.

It was perfect.

Bi-Han placed the paper back down on the desk and signed it.

"Very well. I will be looking forward to meet this.. Grandmistress." Bi-Han said with stoicness laced with unusual interest and handed it to Sektor.

"Send it to the Grandmistress of that clan and report if she accepts an arrangement." Bi-Han continued, he was shivering with anticipation.

This was the best chance he had gotten this far.

And winter had just started. And soon after, it would all bloom.

But together, perhaps, two steel willed lives like a gardenia and an icy snowdrop might shape their lives and their clans into a sturdy netherrock, undestructible and strong.

Only if the meeting went the right path, that was. Only time would tell if an alliance could bloom where only distrust once reigned supreme, or if these two flowers were destined to remain tied forever, until their demise.

Bi-Han couldn't wait.

-🌺

"Lin Kuei?" You repeated your advisor's words with a scowl.

"You are naming it as if it was stupid. It is not, my lady." Your advisor said reassuringly.

"This traditional Chinese clan is a very low-profiled one. Truly focusing on strength and power." You gazed at the signed paper by the grandmaster, Bi-Han.

Ninjas, you thought. Even though it referred at the members as "warriors."

How old-fashioned. Yet, the accidental grunt that you let out at the word was worth it.

This was going to be.. unusual unlike the other clans that have sent you arrangement proposals.

The Lin Kuei's grandmaster wanted to marry you. Like everyone else. You had to check what he required.. And what he was proposing in return.

He required 25% of your revenue. Acceptable, since the other clans required around 30% or higher. Which this situation caused an unusual tingle in your stomach.

...He required your skills? He didn't specify in the file. It seems it was not even written by himself.

And he was offering in return..

25% revenue of the Lin Kuei's profits... decent, yet acceptable.

Yet other thing caught your eye.

A grandmistress role, a chair-man position in the Lin Kuei... This was strange,

Indeed.

Most clans that came to offer, offered you a rather high rank and role, but none as high as to be an equal with the leader.

This caught your interest, indeed.

"A grab." You mumbled to yourself. Catching your advisor's attention.

You gazed back at your advisor, who was waiting for your opinion on the matter.

You blinked a few times from the lack of sleep. How long ago did you change your pillow's case..?

Whatever.

"My interest peaked. Do tell me more." You said a bit commanding, yet softly. You gazed back at the paper.

This paper had arrived by chance, unlike the many others that arrived at the clan's gates.

This one appeared on your window. The one that had direct view to those.. foolish gardenias.

Those.. Lin Kuei ninjas must have snuck here, how amusing.

You had to call your advisor for information on the matter. This Lin Kuei. Not open to the public eye.. no registry on your clan's archives.. The only way to gain information is having a meeting with the clan leader or a representative.

"The Lin Kuei's grandmaster is said to be a monster. Cold and unforgiving." Your advisor said with a hesitant voice.

"But as you have told me countless times.. You are not forbidden to marry and not blossom any feelings, my lady." You gazed back your advisor.

True words, as long as you helped your clan not falter by any means..

You would.

You stayed silent as your advisor continued to explain many of the benefits.

"I will keep it in mind." You replied with a calm conposture. "Send a messenger. I will have a.. peaceful meeting with this.. Bi-Han." His name sounded bitter on your tongue.

You had to meet a cold yeti, and you weren't afraid.

Only for the sake of your clan.

"Let's prepare some buns. I haven't ate in a few days." You said unamusingly.

Your advisor seemed worried.. You have not ate steamed buns in days..

Or you have not ate in days.

How foolish.

Let's hope winter doesn't crush the lilacs of your excitement.

Which you so try to deny.

-❄|🌺

The weather was.. emotional dropping to say the least.

The sky a neutral shade of gray smoke, a comforting aura yet taunting with the idea of possible rain.

You considered this weather to be the most.. relaxing. Yet productive. You mostly took days off on this type of weather, considering it a day for full respite.

Even if it quadripled your paperwork.

You were excited to say the least. You prepared your appearance decently. Because after the most work-loaded of days, your face would be puffy and tired.

Yet it was the perfect weather to start a meeting.

The wind was practically non-existent,

And you were preparing to meet the Lin Kuei's grandmaster. An optimal preparation was put in place. While you watched the gardeners arrange the many well-kept flowers..

Including those foolish blood-colored gardenias.

They were pretty to say the least.

Flowers were always a fascination to you. A visual break from the un-aesthetics of the common wither of winter and deterioration.

Yet winter had already arrived.. seeing how most of the beautiful trees had no leaves left in the roots.. The past dealings of autumn had left a temporal mark in their spare.

It gave you more than enough confidence to head through the meeting.

You were dressed rather formally, the room that you had prepared for the meeting was open, a large frame with direct access to the main gardens.

It was embroided with a dark-tone of high quality oak. With tall bookcases covering the walls of the room.

The room's large frame's purpose was only to gaze at which had withered away and which had survived winter's embrace.

Yet your attention kept away at that damned garden. How to not survive a winter?

Life is dependant on will and skill. Even those who do not possess skill survive through will alone. Otherwise, no will, pure skill.

What a blossom of thoughts had been keeping away the matters that needed to seed their way to your brain.

Your attention was called, chiding it away from your gaze to the mostly red-colored garden.

The room was finished.

And as you gazed at the many flowers,

As long as you kept denying it,

You could not deny your liking for the red gardenias.

But other flowers had your affections as well.

The room was ready and a table was placed, a chair on either sides. You took the one that had a view to the door and left the remaining one for the grandmaster. Purposelly doing so for the view, and sake of the well-kept garden.

It was a small but thoughtful detail.. Maybe ambitious?

You were never the type of person to show off the things in your pockets.

You sat down in the chair and prepared the documments that you wanted to present, in-case the meeting was successful and the idea of an arrange marriage was successful.

If the so-called "monster" was keen to your ideals or not.

You had a tea set on another table in the room in-case he was in the mood for a steaming cup of tea, many flavors and spices to keep it to his liking.

Your advisor went to encourage you.. The past meetings with other clan leaders were.. unsuccesful and awkward.

He had arrived.

But as you continued to gaze at the garden and the tea set somewhere along the room.. You decided that your idea was gonna take place first.

Bi-Han had arrived at the clan gates, Kuai Liang by his side.

Kuai Liang sighed seeing Bi-Han's confidence.

"I never imagined to see the day where you would try to conquer a woman's affections." Kuai Liang stared at Bi-Han who was gazing at the arquitecture of the place.

Bi-Han was unamused visibly by Kuai Liang's remark.

"Silence. It is for our good." Bi-Han's tone was composed, not meaning to hurt Kuai Liang.

Yet he re-directed his gaze to Kuai Liang with a nod.

"We shall enter. I am sure the grandmistress might be waiting for us." Bi-Han walked inside and Kuai Liang followed silently.

But Kuai Liang did not fail to notice the excitement laced in his tone, yet the raise in his eyebrows.

One of the clan members greeted them with a bow and leaded them to the meeting room..

And once Bi-Han opened the door...

You weren't there.

Kuai Liang and Bi-Han stepped inside in confusion. Was this the wrong room had they just entered?

The room seemed to be set up for a meeting and the scenery of the garden seemed appealing to the eyes.

They were in the according room.

Then they saw a figure, she entered the building with flowers on her hands, placing them with the spices sitting beside the multiple flavors of tea.

Her stance not faltering her resting face seemed unamused, to say the least.

There you were. You were grabbing the roses and jasmine flowers to give the tea flavors more variety.

It hurt your heart to cut off some of the bloomed delicacies, but for the sake of the meeting it was optimal.

You had to address them.. No time to slack.

You cleared your throat and turned to face the two masked men.

"Welcome.. I was not informed of an.. advisor." You said composed while re-directing your gaze to Kuai Liang. "Must we start?"

Kuai Liang bowed his head. "Grandmistress, you are mistaken. I am simply accompanying my brother." You nodded,

noticing of Bi-Han's lack of response and the penetrating stare he was pointing at you.

You stayed silent gazing at them for a few seconds then you gazed back at the tea.

"Tea? Most foreign flavors I have at my disposal." You said calmly as you looked for approval to prepare some tea.

Courtesy at it's finest. Tea was a great start.

"Pu'erh. With Mantao." Bi-Han said coldly, but composed. These were the only words he had said so far,

Meanwhile he stood beside Kuai Liang, who didn't seem to have much faith on Bi-Han.

"No, Thank you for the offer." Kuai Liang said gruffly yet friendly.

You nodded at their words, placing the boiling water into cups and starting to add the bags of tea.

You prepared some tea for yourself as well, Chamomille.. meant to calm your nerves in-case of any disagreement or anything that would stress you.

You brewed the tea and placed it on the table, placing the Pu'erh teacup with a spice of Mantao honey on Bi-Han's side of the table and your chamomille teacup on the side you were destined to sit.

Decent so far. A show of courtesy shown by your part.

"Please, sit down so we can begin." You say down calmly and composed. Your face showing calmness,

But a frigid composture that "can't" be cracked.

You gazed at Kuai Liang who was still standing.

"I apologise for the lack of seating. I was informed that this meeting would be entirely confidential." You let out a sigh at your words.

Kuai Liang hesitated.

"No need to apologise. I wasn't aware of my compa-" Kuai Liang was shut by Bi-Han's gaze.

Bi-Han had his mask on, so did Kuai Liang. But Kuai Liang knew that Bi-Han was scowling under the mask.

After all, Bi-Han had "convinced" him. In reality, obligated him. If not, Bi-Han would have dealt with this matter himself.

Bi-Han wanted none to know this.

He would be hysterical if his brother wasn't there to watch. He would ever not, admit that fact.

Bi-Han sat down, while Kuai Liang was standing awkwardly beside.

The yellow one's eyebrows were furrowed? No.. those were only the marks due to the constant frowning on his part. And Bi-Han seemed to have met the same predicament.

Bi-Han's eyebrows were relaxed. But his eyes, with a stern look were focused entirely on you, as if judging you. You started to speak, gazing back with a tone of admission. As if to show respect.

Shall it start.

"I am curious of the fact that a low-profiled clan seeks an alliance with one as mine." You crossed your arms over your chest. Bi-Han's gaze still piercing.

"The Lin Kuei especializes in stealth, force and commitment." Bi-Han didn't even acknowledge his tea.

The steam slowly fading away as the room's temperature went down by the minute.

You nodded at his words. He didn't mention power once. Most of the clan leaders mentioned how successful their clans were, yet the Lin Kuei were thriving with a health and development unlike any others and a humble response had surprised you.

"...It is great to hear. My advisor had informed me of the achievings of your clan." You drank the chamomille.. The soft yet strong flavor making you relax.

Meanwhile Bi-Han..

Bi-Han was feeling.. concerned. The Lin Kuei never had any sort of meetings like this in the past. His father had met his mother during a skirmish, saving her life and taking her in to the Lin Kuei.

As long as he knew, it was a tale that his mother used to tell him and his brothers to fall asleep.

"Foolish. That old man surely kidnapped and forced her against her will." Bi-Han's thoughts were always aggressive, to no surprise.

Yet Bi-Han stared at you as you spoke over the documents, speaking about possible benefits and the downfalls that could be caused.

He appreciated your determination for your duty.

It was rare to not see leaders slack off and live off their wealth. Yet you took that, threw it on the ground and set it on fire.

Your will was fascinating to Bi-Han. Even if he wouldn't show it. He kept his piercing stare.

You continued to speak, thinking that Bi-Han had absolutely no interest.

You kept your conversation. You seemed to be speaking alone as Bi-Han only gave back nods and barely spoken words. It unfuriated you yet it seemed to be progressing well.

"I am affirming that this agreement will not only bring power. Prosperity and humility are the most important aspect of a clan. Peace through framework is preferable than an endless chase of power."

You said calmly. Noticing how Bi-Han's gaze darkened.

He instantly furrowed his eyebrows.

"Power brings respect. More power no conflicts to being with." Bi-Han's tone was unintentionally harsher.

You narrowed your eyes.

"Power is not by any means a weapon. A word that exists on your mind to cause you ambition." You sighed.

"It is a true sense of strength that must be taken care off, carefully."

Bi-Han notably got more and more furious. It was obvious he was attempting to hold his composture in.

Kuai Liang seemed concerned too,

but knew nothing would calm his brother's rage.

It didn't stop Bi-Han.

"You work off weakness."

Bi-Han's true speech had risen up.

"Might alone will bring the 'humility' and 'prosperity' you seek. Only through wars and struggle." He continued.

"And if you are against violence then you are not fit to work with the Lin Kuei. Simple as that is."

Bi-Han spat out coldly. The disagreement had escalated.

You could barely keep your snarky remarks from your composture.

You had to end this.

"I am aware that the Lin Kuei work off might and power alone." You stood up abruptly.

Bi-Han's eyebrows both raised. It was a funny sight, to say the least.

"I was expecting a façade to get in my good side, grandmaster" You stared directly to in-between his eyebrows.

Your tone meant to show disappointment in the outcome of this meeting.

"Yet you have only shown your true colors."

Kuai Liang seemed panicked, looking at Bi-Han in a way to tell him to salvage this.

"This meeting is concluded. Leave."

You left to the gardens.. Passing by the red gardenias and letting out a grunt.

Even this garden was enough to fuel your anger.

You headed into the outsides of your clan..

In a way to soothe your nerves..

To the hidden forest glade within.

No distractions.

-🌺|❄

Bi-Han was distraught to say the least.

He had managed to ruin the chance to win the woman's affections and approval.

Now he had fully-lost the chance to gain it.

This could affect the Lin Kuei in a sort of way? If she decided to become an enemy.

Bi-Han simply stayed sat, he realized that he did not gaze even once at the cold tea in front of him.

He had been unintentionally having a lack of respect.

He hated this.

"Brother." Kuai Liang spoke after a minute of awkward silence. "If you don't go after her- You might lose your chance." Kuai Liang was nervous.

He had seen the entire disagreement pass by like a mannequin.. It hurt seeing how Bi-Han was messing it all over and not being able to intervene.

Bi-Han looked up at Kuai Liang.

"I suppose so." Bi-Han stared to the gardens, the multiple colored gardens with varieties he had not seen at the Lin Kuei..

A high-quantity of flowers that grow in gardens with higher temperature.

He had never seen a lotus flower. Only from the pictures his mother had shown him.

"Beautiful". He thought.

Bi-Han remembered the many topics his mother used to ramble about.

Flowers, especially.

He had acquired a great knowledge for gardening due to his mother's teaching.

He couldn't help but reminisce.

"Bi-Han, dear. Come here." Bi-Han heard his mother's voice call him out of the training with his brothers.

He would get scolded for leaving, but spending time with his mother was more important to him than anything.

"Come here." Bi-Han's mother took Bi-Han lithe form in his arms. She held a book and sat beside flowers on the well-tended to gardens in the snowy terrain that the Lin Kuei temple resided in.

Bi-Han was in for a long teaching.

"That, is a roseroot. Grows only in the highest of places. We occasionally place some of the leaves on our dishes." Bi-Han let himself root out a face of disgust and his mother chuckled. She stared lovingly to Bi-Han's interest.

She knew a break from his harsh training might do him well.

Bi-Han gazed at the droopy flowers close to his mother and then back at her.

"Oh? Those are Galanthus. Also known as Snowdrops, dear. You will see them all year, they surely love the snow."

Bi-Han paid attention to the entirety of his mother's teachings.

If Bi-Han couldn't admit it, he had such knowledge for such things as flowers. Which he would call "weak."

Now all he had left for the memory was his mother's flora research in the Lin Kuei's archives.

He would make usage of it one day.

He was sure of it.

Bi-Han was shook out of his memory and noticed Kuai Liang staring at him disapprovingly.

"Brother! You have to find her!" Kuai Liang seemed more desperate. Unusual due to his mastered patience at his brother's stubborness.

Bi-Han nodded and stood up. Running after the ominous clan leader.

He would make ammends.

It was for his clan after all.

You were sat in a tree trunk. The smokey gray sky still haunting your patience and you façade slowly dropping out. Your face in your hands.

Your hands felt like burning steel.

It hurt.

What did go wrong? You gave the up-most courtesy that you learnt over your entire life.

You knew respect was something primal, necessary for every lifetime interaction. Yet any fools that spoke to you were lacking of such formality.

Were you too cold? Maybe it could be cause.

He stared at you as if you were garbage,

A lifeless doll.

Like everyone else.

Your fury was undeniable.

As long as you kept it inside that locked heart, and no one tried opening to see the one memory hidden inside, it would maintain the peace you always kept.

You must not fracture.

This was only one of the many meetings that were to come.

This wouldn't let you down even once.

The rooted façade would not fall apart.

Yet you felt the icy presence behind you. You did not move an inch but his menacing aura was enough to sent a shiver down your spine.

Letting yourself bloom a sigh.

Your trail was left right open it seems,

He was here.

-❄|🌺

Bi-Han stared at the woman in front of him.

He knew that sneaking behind her while she tried to keep her emotional turmoil at bay would only cause her even more distress,

But he wouldn't be caught yet.

He only heard your voice besides the sounds of the harsh wind.

"Have you come here to taunt me? I am not emotionally available for yet another pointless debate." You said gruffly.

Fighting the tears that were trying to come out.

"No. I only wish to.. make ammends." Bi-Han said a bit hesitantly.

You stared up in confusion.

"Yet another scheme to make me fall. Your ways of treason are not affordable." You let out, meaning to bite.

Bi-Han sighed.

He knew he could not deal with an emotional woman that tried to hold her rage.

"There are other ways we can join together. Other than power." Bi-Han said quite lowly.

He wanted to make it clear.

"I wish the best for the Lin Kuei. And I have observed that you have the same ideal for your clan." You stared confused,

Not knowing where he was heading to in the conversation.

"I wish to make a change in the contract."

You nodded at his request. Raising your eyebrows.

"No marriage ceremony?" You said confidently, guessing that was his idea. He seemed uncomfortable at the idea of a wedding.

His shoulders tensed, he sighed.

"No. I want your clan to join the Lin Kuei. As a branch." You seemed more furious at that.

You could not take this lightly.

"I would not wish such fate to my clan. I blossomed day and night for such path." You said coldly.

Your emotions rising up once again.

"I am still offering the chair-man position. You and I will be equal. You will remain as a grandmistress." Bi-Han said,

His gaze looking at you with a convincing glint.

"I am not against the idea." Bi-Han sighed at your words. He had to knock some sense into you, but he would not yell.

You were a stubborn mess to deal with.

"So be it." The grandmaster said with a huff.

"To clear your stubborn soul that you possess, let's have a fight." Bi-Han stepped back and put himself into a ready'ed battle stance.

You had not put your self-defense abilities to the test in a long time. Approximately around last summer.

Yet you were confident. A good match, isolated?

No unwanted attention would be brought here.

Just what you wanted.

Bi-Han noticed by the determined glint on your gaze as you stood up from the trunk you previously turmoiled on.

You were ready.

And you were ready to blow off every steam you needed.

A mean of justice that would not be forgotten by him. A way to break the world and the law of your heart.

A broken heart once filled with tenderness.

Would that break his rule? Surely not. But it would be an amazing way to de-stress.

You were panting heavily, so was Bi-Han.

This spar quickly transformed into "who can break eachother's nose first." You weren't against the idea but the experience that Bi-Han had at hand-to-hand kombat was higher than yours.

You could tell he was going easy on you.

You hated it.

The trees shaked as a foul amount of punches were exchanged. Bi-Han covering his fits in ice to catch you more off guard.

You tried to not break your composture seeing that he was a cryomancer.

You could not hold back the scowl that you blossomed out of your face.

No way you're losing this.

You ducked and evaded most of his "pulled-punches". Though your emotions remained turmoiled, you mind was only on the battle. Even with the heavy drag of your heart.

Everything was dragged away by the wind.

Two souls connect as one only for such intense fight.

Their eyes connected and with that one glance..

It was finished.

You fell down to the ground exhausted.

Bi-Han offered his hand to help you stand up.

"I understimated you, woman." He said panting, with a barely noticeable tone of admiration.

You gazed up at him for a few seconds, narrowing your eyes as you took his hand to help you.

"I am glad we have made the ammends you wished. Yet, I am not convinced by your proposal."

You didn't want your clan to be disregarded as a branch inside the Lin Kuei.

"Then, we shall meet at dawn tomorrow. A meeting to the Lin Kuei temple will take place." Bi-Han said with his back turned to you.

"I will be waiting, grandmistress." Bi-Han said lowly but softly and left the glade.

"Very well..." You said hesitantly.

As for all that mattered... Nothing did.

Tomorrow you would see if everything was worth it, or to throw it away.

This Bi-Han had fished your attention. And you couldn't escape from it.

But it was enough.

As long as it helped you too..

You were more than happy to let your heart blossom for just that man.

Even if you were delusional enough.

🌺|❄

Not the cliffhanger, but yeah.

This is too long for my liking.

(I'll try to upload this to AO3 as well..)

A part 2 is guaranteed! No idea when it'll come out though. 😭

This took forever to write and any reblogs are appreciated! Feedback is also to be accepted, don't be shy :D

Thank you so much for reading :)

-Shigu 💖

#mortal kombat x reader #bi han x reader #bi-han x reader #bi han #bi han mk #bi han x you #STOP SLANDERING ON TOMAS BI-HAN #sub zero x reader #bi han sub zero #ShiguWritesFics #mortal kombat #mortal kombat 1

[thebluester2020]

Stardew Bachelors x Rude!Farmer Reader Headcanons

Summary: A new farmer has moved into Stardew Valley and...wait, how come they're always seen with a scowl on their face?! And why are they so mean?!

Warning(s): Fluff, Mean! Farmer, Doesn't contain all the bachelors! (I've only included Elliot and Sebastian since I didn't want things to become too long!), Farmer is low-key more of a tsundere to be honest, Slight favoritism to Sebastion at the end, !not proofread!

Note: As much as I love sweet-hearted farmers. I also love my mean, tsundere-esque farmers as well <3

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Elliot

:: Elliot had heard about the rumors a week before you arrived. That the grandchild of the late deceased farmer, who once cared for the old farm a little ways away from town, would be moving in soon. He thought a new face around town would be nice. After all, Elliot was fairly new to the town himself! He thought the two of you could share in your common experience of being new to the environment and possibly build a friendly bond.

At least…until the week you were supposed to arrive rolled around.

The rumors of you being rude. He swore they spread faster than you had actually been here.

First it was from overhearing a conversation between Gus and Lewis on Friday.

The way Lewis described you was like hearing a weary night regale his tale of how he narrowly escaped the fiery breath of a dragon. “They’ve…definitely got an attitude.” Elliot heard Lewis say.

“I’m struggling to find the resemblances. Looks aside, they’re rude! They threatened me the other day when I tried to ask if they could do me a favor!”

Elliot wouldn’t exactly deny that the possibility of you being rude made him nervous. Everyone in town was so nice that having someone mean would be like a black sheep sticking out in the middle of white sheep, you just wouldn’t belong. Yet when he had happened upon you once fateful morning on the beach/

“The hell you lookin’ at Prince Charmin’” You spat in his direction when he stared too long.

His eyes widened. “N-Nothing! Forgive me, I’ve never seen you before.”

“I’m new here, that’s why.”

He cleared his throat. “So I see…” He stood in place a little while longer, observing you as you crouched down to collect items from the beach. Your appearance didn’t match your attitude, he thought. Your appearance was like that of nobility to him, graceful with certain details accentuating personality and your life on the farm.

From slightly muddied knees and a few scraps here and there.

But your tongue was like a freshly sharpened knife.

“The fuck?” You hissed at him again, snapping him out of his trance. “Who the hell you looking at? Got a problem?”

“N-No!” You dropped your bag full of items before you walked right up to him, your mouth nearly curling upwards like an angry feline.

“Yeah? You sure? You’re staring mighty hard for someone you A. Don’t know and B. Is just trying to go about their day! So what’s the problem?!”

Elliot chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry once again, it's just- I think you're really gorgeous to look at. The tales of your fiery temper did nothing to speak of your beauty as well." You paused at the compliment, your cheeks beginning to redden as your temper started to ease down considerably.

Besides the compliments towards the farm and your weapon prowess when you first joined the Adventurer's Guild. You didn't hear too many compliments about yourself, the only thing you'd hear was

"That new farmer is scary aren't they? They're completely unlike their grandfather!"

"Why did her grandfather entrust the farm to them? With their attitude, they'll probably soil the crops just from their glare."

To say it didn't hurt from time to time was an understatement. It wasn't your fault that you had a mean scowl on your face 24/7 and sometimes you had a habit of speaking about how you actually felt about someone before thinking about your words!

So, to hear a compliment? You couldn't help the way it made your heart flutter and your chest begin to warm.

Not that you would let this lonely beach writer who talked like some actor from Medieval Kingdom know that.

"...Thank you." You finally mumbled under your breath.

A smile graced Elliot's features. "You're welcome."

There was a comfortable silence for a few minutes before you turned around to quickly pick up your backpack before walking off. But, not before Elliot could get another line in. "You should visit my cabin sometime! I love visitors!"

Although there was no response, for the next few months afterward, however, he kept strangely receiving duck feathers and ink bottles at his front door every other day...

Sebastion

:: The first time he had even heard the rumors of a new farmer. He was talking to his mother about her day and also alerting her that he would be out for a while riding his motorcycle. His mother had made sure to tell him to "be safe!" and likes before she told him that someone new would be moving into the old farm a little ways from town.

He hadn't thought much of it.

'Just another face in the crowd' he thought while also wondering why someone would even choose to go to this town where the most interesting thing that happened was when a slime got loose in the middle of town a while ago!

Until...the words of how rude and snappy you were began to pop up.

"That new farmer has no manners!"

"They're so mean..." He also heard Lewis say. "All I asked was for them to retrieve a...special item from Marnie's house and they said 'Get it yourself'"! Sebastion didn't see anything wrong with the supposed 'attitude' you were giving people in town, in his mind? He thought it was about time that someone had tried to bring a different energy to the town besides being yet another happy-go-lucky person who wanted to help everyone and anyone!

And even when he bumped into you one midnight evening...a sword in his hand as he wanted to go exploring the mines in order to try and put himself to sleep, his opinion of your supposed attitude remained the same.

Though, as he saw the piles of dead Shadow Brutes around...he did have a mind to be a little more weary of you. No one had told him that you were capable of slaying multiple Shadow Brutes on your own.

"You lost gloomy?" Were your first words to him as you pushed your hair back out of your face, snapping him back to reality.

He glared at you. "I could ask the same of you. Whose out fighting Shadow Brutes at midnight?"

"Me," You responded. "Something that I wouldn't expect you to do seeing how you're as skinny as a twig."

His mouth dropped a little, his annoyance with you growing as well as his interest of you. You were mean, that was no question but...unless his ears were playing tricks on him due to him not interacting with too many other people besides his friends.

He could've sworn there was a little bit of playfulness in your voice.

"I may be skinny but I've been down these mines before." He said, walking past you with a grumble as he started to look around the area for anything valuable.

As you looked Sebastion over, your mouth cracked upward a little more in an amused smile. You had just arrived at the valley, and joining the Adventurer's Guild was a good way to blow off some steam and clear your mind by fighting mindless monsters. You hadn't really thought about talking to any of the residents besides the essential ones such as Pierre, Robin and sometimes Lewis from time to time.

But, you were beginning to change your mind.

"You managed to make it all the way down to level 100 in the mines gloomy, maybe you wouldn't mind accompanying me to level 120?"

Sebastion looked back at you with a huff. "You probably wouldn't want a 'twig' coming with you."

"Even twigs can have their usefulness, don't be a wuss."

His eyes narrowed. "I'm not a wuss."

You stuck your tongue out playfully. "Then prove it! Killing those Squid Kids can be a tricky process at times." As you walked passed him, you playfully shoved him as a cocky laugh escaped you. "Who knows? Maybe you'll even upgrade from a twig to a branch."

He could've ignored you, he wanted to ignore you but...as you sauntered away cockily, climbing down one of the ladders into the next level. He couldn't deny that you were interesting despite your need to tease him despite the two of you just meeting, you may have had an annoyingly high urge to tease but...strangely enough?

He liked it.

#stardew valley #stardew farmer #stardew fandom #stardew sebastian #stardew elliott #writing #stardew x reader #elliot x reader #sdv #sdv bachelors #sdv sebastian #sdv elliott #stardew #sdv farmer #sdv x farmer #sdv x reader

[bebe-writes-stuff]

Hey lovely!! I love your work and I was wondering if you can do a baji x reader smut with like a friends to lovers where he gets jealous when one of his friends make a move on you as a joke but he can’t take it seeing y/n all happy’ with a. Anna that’s not him and can u please include where someone walks in on them at the end and he says something about how they became a couple like someone walks in and he he’s like “ can you ye out I’m trying to help my girlfriend clean up!” I LOVE YOU SO MUCHHHHH I have read so much of ur stuff BbBbdbdbbdbd

Ima be honest, I wrote this when I was high so like, idek if this makes sense

Jealous! Baji x Reader (Smut)

Annoyed by your lack of attention, he huffed and puffed, and you still didn't say anything,

"What are you even reading that you are so invested in?" He muttered glancing at your book before pouting and setting his eyes aside.

"Huh, you don't know?" You turned to him and showed him your book cover.

Romeo and Juliet

"Ew, what the hell. Who the hell even reads that in their free time." He cringed at your sappy choice of book taste.

"Shut up will you, it's for the Drama Club. It's the annual play, other schools come and parents also come. I auditioned for fun, but I got the main role, Juliet." You explained, before someone abruptly opened the empty classroom door, it was lunch time.

"Woah, Y/n, did you actually join the annual play?!" It was Chifuyu, he was breathing and seemed...flustered.

"Oh, yeah. how'd you know?" You asked, tilting your head a little worried.

"The flyers are literally being passed out everywhere, look!" He unrolled the flyer and then slammed it on one of the desks.

You took a peek before,

"Woah.."

"Huh?-"

It was you and Ryusei Satou on the cover. You had a dagger in your hand aimed high at yourself as you knelt on your dead lover's body, Ryusei was lying on the floor with poison that fell in drops from his mouth, the tragic fate of Romeo and Juliet. On the cover, you looked just so beautiful, you looked alluring. Your eyes were magnetic, drawing people in with a combination of elegance and genuine warmth. Baji understood why you would be Juliet, no one fit better, you were beautiful both in and out, gentle, graceful, oh he could go on and on about you. He never liked to admit it, he loved you too much. But why was that asshole Ryusei, Romeo, he thought angrily.

The next couple of weeks, Baji has barely seen you. So imagine how he felt when he heard that the entire time you were with Ryusei practicing for the upcoming play. Almost as if you cheated on him, not like you were dating anyway. He didn't mean to stop, he really didn't. But when he heard your voice from outside the theater room, he stopped to listen. Even your voice made him flushed and nervous. However, he froze when he peeked in and saw how Ryusei had you in his arms as he performed dramatically. You were smiling and laughing even. You looked so happy with another guy, it broke his heart. He felt like punching him, or anyone at this point. It was now after school, Chifuyu stopped by Baji's apartment to study for upcoming exams and projects. Then he asked when he noticed how Baji seemed more angry than usual.

"Are you upset that Y/n and Ryusei are gonna kiss?" he shouldn't have said that.

"WHAT, THEY KISS?!" He shouted

"Ohh, I shouldn't have said that..."

"She can't- No- UGHH CAN SHE QUIT THAT STUPID PLAY ALREADY?" Baji groaned, throwing his books to the side before slamming his head on his desk.

"This is so stupid." He pulled onto his hair. He stopped and turned to Chifuyu, who muttered something.

"You got something to say?"

"Baji, she was gonna ask you to do the auditions with her but you turned her down for the gang, Also the play is in a couple days so I think it's too late to pull out now." He repeated himself, a little anxious.

Wait, he thought, was it that one time? Shit, he does remember when he turned down your request, you looked so sad and he promised to make it up to you, which he forgot to do. Fuck.

Now, it was Chifuyu's turn to be worried because of Baji's sudden absences. He couldn't be that affecting because of a silly play, right? C'mon that's Toman's First Division Captain, he can't be acting all childish and clingy when it comes to you, right? Wrong, he was in his room walking back and forth, whining about it.

Baji stayed home the day of the play, until he got a text from Chifuyu.

-- Holy shit, there's so many people at the school dude!"

He groaned and put his phone down, obviously people came. You were too unreal, too siren-like. He heard a knock on his door, it was his mom.

"Chifuyu told me what's been going on. I'm not here to talk to you because in truth, I think you deserve it. You had a chance and you wasted it and made her wait. And you know worst of all, YOU DIDN'T EVEN MAKE IT UP TO HER, and here you are being all childish and sad about the consequences to your own actions. If I were you, I would take my ass there and make it up to her." She scolded him, maybe it sounded harsh, but it was out of love, she was sad that he was putting himself through this.

"yeah, LIKE I KNOW HOW. AT THIS POINT, just let them be." He sighed defeated,

"Don't give me that bull. You know how Kei, I know what you've been doing." She said in a smug motherly tone.

He felt his face grow hot quickly as he glanced at the copy of the play he had read.

Stupid, he thought

He heard his mother's footsteps fade as she walked away once their conversation died out. She was right, Baji knew what to do, and he was gonna make it up to you, tonight!

Backstage, you were nervous, shaking even. You were wearing a silky and fancy long nightgown. It was a scene where you are on the balcony of your room confessing your love to the hidden Romeo as he listens to your heart-filled speech. The play was nearing its end, which meant it was closing to where you had to kiss Romeo or more specifically, Ryusei. Which you found extremely awkward. You noticed Chifuyu in the crowd earlier in the play, he was waving and cheering. However, it saddened you how Baji didn't come, he probably had another important gang meeting, you thought. It was the final scene now. You were getting ready to step on stage before you heard some ruckus in the background, before you had time to figure out. The play started and you stepped onto the stage. You talked clearly and passionately, You called out to your lover, this is when Ryusei was to step out and capture you in a breathtaking kiss after some sensual words. You waited, but no one came out. You called out again, nervously.

Suddenly, from the opposing curtain, he walked out. The stage lighting made the moment feel unreal, wait am I imagining this? Why was the one that stepped out of the curtain, it was Baji, it was really Baji. You gasped before you continued with your act. it was subtle but you glanced at Chifuyu who seemed also equally confused. Finally, the play was gonna end, the last scene was a recreation of the Flyer. Romeo and Juliets end. You stabbed yourself with Romeo's dagger as you fell onto Romeo's poisoned body. The crowd roared with 'woos" and cheers as they applauded loudly. You felt hands grip your waist, Baji whispered,

"Y/n, meet me in the costume closet after this. It's important."

What the hell was going on? you thought, first, Baji is distancing himself from you, then he shows up randomly in the play you in AND KISSES YOU. and NOW, he wants to talk to you alone after the play. But if you wanted to find out, you'd have to confront him. It was later after the show now, you were in front of the costume closet, no one was back there. You took a deep breath before entering, Baji was waiting, leaning against the wall.

"Hey Baji, what's up?"

"Keisuke, My name's Keisuke."

"Ookay...Keisuke."

He hated how awkward you seemed around him, he wanted you to laugh and smile like how you were with Ryusei. He sighed as he stood up and approached you, suddenly you were pushed against one of the walls.

"Y/n, do you hate me?" He whispered, coming in closer, leaving little space between your lips.

No, quite the opposite actually, you thought, but you couldn't say that. You just looked to the side avoiding his gaze. He gritted his teeth harshly

"Look at me damnit!" He growled as he forced you to look at him directly.

"Tch, you like this don't you?" He smirked as he toyed with you. He grabbed your face, roughly and chuckled. You glanced at his lips as you both closed in on each other, your eyes locked in an electric gaze, anticipation hung in the air like a delicate melody. The world seemed to pause as your lips met, creating an intimate universe where only the soft whispers of your breaths and the tender exchange of kisses existed. His hands delicately cradled your face, and your fingers entwined in the strands of his hair. The kiss unfolded like a choreography of emotions, starting with a tender exploration and building into a passionate crescendo. Time seemed to slow down, allowing you to savor every fleeting moment of this shared intimacy. Your breath hitched as you felt Baji placing soft kisses and even nibbling on your sensitive neck. The warmth of his lips, coupled with the gentle pressure and softness of the kisses, created the obvious tension and the sense of both of your intimacy and arousal.

"Y/n, I'm gonna fuck you now." He already had his hand in your costume.

"Fuck, your this wet because of me, you're not scared of being caught, You little slut." You whimpered as you rode his fingers,

"K-keisuke, wait- I-" You tried to formulate a sentence but your moans cut you off.

"Uh, Y/n! Baji! Are you guys here?" You gasped as you put both your hands on your mouth, controlling your moans.

"Huh?! What you want, Chifuyu! Can't you see I'm helping my girlfriend change out of her costume, go now!"

Embarrassed, Chifuyu runs out, He sighed,

"You were right... Ryusei."

"Told ya." He smirked as he knew, the only way to get Baji to make a move on you was to make him a little jealous. 

#tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers x reader #tr smut #tokyorev smut #baji smut #baji x reader #baji x reader smut #baji keisuke smut #baji keisuke x reader #baji x you #baji x y/n #keisuke baji smut #keisuke baji x reader #keisuke baji x reader smut #baji keisuke x you #baji keisuke x y/n #keisuke baji x you #keisuke baji x y/n #tokyo revengers x reader smut #tokyo revengers baji #tr x reader #tr x reader smut #tr baji #tokyo rev smut #tokyo rev x reader #keisuke baji #baji keisuke #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers hcs

[acowardinmordor]

I needed to warm up, so I did not plan, just wrote this, and I'm about to hit post without editing or rereading. This is Steve&Eddie more than its a slash

----------

It was a week after the rumors made the rounds about Harrington and Hargrove getting into a fight. Eddie would normally assume it was nothing but posting jock bullshit, and ignore it the same way he ignored what he overheard about cheerleaders hooking up with other cheerleader's boyfriends. Except a couple days after the rumors hit a peak, Harrington showed up at school looking like someone beat his face in with a plate.

That made a pretty strong argument for the rumors being true.

The guy avoided his old crowd, and despite his ex and her new boyfriend - if that rumor is true, there was some overlap - trying to include him, he kept away from everyone for the first two days.

Eddie put him out of mind, one less asshole to cause trouble, one less shithead to dodge. Not his problem. Until he found Harrington sitting at his table in the woods the next week. It made sense, sort of. The guy was obviously having a shit time, and like most of the locals that kept Eddie's business afloat, he was looking for a distraction.

Eddie was right, and Harrington bought some weed before asking about getting anything stronger.

"I don't know man, I just wanna like, not be in my body for a while."

"Fair enough, but I don't keep that on me.

Harrington showed up when told to, and bought enough shit that Eddie hesitated before handing it over. He gave the guy a whole speech about not overdosing and ruining Eddie's upstanding reputation. Whether he listened or not wasn't something he could control.

So, the next Monday, when Harrington chased him down, and, as best as Eddie could tell, tried to become his friend, Eddie's first thought was that it was a ploy to get his next massive purchase of drugs on discount.

But Harrington didn't buy again except for a bit of weed. He did stick around. Outright said he wanted to be Eddie's friend. Kept at it through January until Eddie, confused as shit, admitted that yeah, they were friends. Mostly friends at least. There was stuff that Steve wouldn't talk about; his headaches, his nightmares, his tendency to freak the fuck out if the electricity got weird. Maybe it was better to say that Steve was his study partner who he sometimes hung out with. Cause that was the thing, Steve was pushy about Eddie studying.

"You really want to come back for a third run at graduating, man? Fuck that. 85 is gonna be your year, even if I have to bribe the teachers to pull it off"

"Why do you even care Steve? Maybe I want to become a legend of terrible scholarship in this crap town."

Steve never gave a real answer about it, just kept pushing him, hounding him about his homework, and showing up at his trailer every morning to drag Eddie out of bed if he had to. Wayne thought the whole thing was incredible and gave the guy a spare key. Traitor.

They got closer. Eddie finally met the kids Steve babysat. They immediately decided that Eddie was much cooler than Steve, and ragged on him constantly about it. They were close. They were. Fell asleep at each other's places. Spent half their time together.

Close, but not close enough for Eddie to get answers about why the fuck Steve had bruises and burns and scrapes sometimes. Bad ones. No matter how many times he said it, Steve didn't get those because he got distracted while cooking. It drove Eddie crazy sometimes. That was a lie. It drove him crazy all the time. Steve would tell him about how shit his parents were, but wouldn't admit why the fuck he needed stitches at the top of May.

"You did it."

"I think you'll find that you're the one that did it, Steve, I was an unwilling kidnapping victim in your quest to get us both across that stage."

It wasn't graceful, literally or figuratively, but Eddie got his diploma in 1985. Steve gave him what he said was a small part of his grad present from his parents. A thousand dollars. A thousand goddamn dollars. It was enough that Eddie didn't put the dots together right away. A small part, plus Steve's crappy job at the newly opened mall.

It was weird. But Eddie let it go, because Steve was his friend, maybe could have been best friends if the guy would stop pulling back whenever they got too close. He let it go, and he let Steve push him towards the goal of getting the fuck out of that town, and he promised he'd call when he got to Chicago.

It didn't really click for Eddie until he heard about the mall burning down from Wayne, that Steve never promised that he'd call too. The guy was there, and when Eddie called and demanded to know if he was okay, got another partial answer, another dodge, another thing for the list of shit his friend wouldn't talk about.

They fought about it. Loud enough as Eddie shouted into the phone that his neighbor banged on the wall. Maybe Eddie crossed a line. Maybe he crossed it a long while back. He didn't know. Eddie kept calling until September, but on the rare times that Steve answered, it was awkward and curt and terrible. He stopped trying when Wayne told him that Steve never stopped by, or even waved when they crossed paths.

Steve wanted it over, and it was so fucking weird. The guy slammed into Eddie's life out of nowhere, shifted it, changed the course, cause there was no way in hell Eddie would have graduated if it wasn't for Steve forcing him to try. The guy did all that, and nine months later, was gone again. Out of his life.

It was a week after new rumors reached him in February of 86 that a package arrived. His uncle called outside their normal plans, and said it wasn't sure yet, that there wasn't any proof, but Steve was missing, and some of those kids of his said he'd saved their lives. Said that he wasn't going to come back. Wayne didn't really understand what it meant, but passed on a message from those kids that they'd answer when he called.

Eddie got a box a week after finding out that Steve was gone, full of letters. Long, detailed, apologetic letters. The first was dated in December of 84, written after Steve spent a weekend 'out of his body' just like he wanted to be. The promises at the start didn't make sense. Steve said he'd save him. Steve said he'd make sure he got out. The apologies got more complex. Something about keeping Eddie away from friends he'd never make. About being selfish. About keeping secrets and lying when all he really wanted was to tell Eddie everything.

It was so fucking weird.

The last one was dated a couple days before things went bad in Hawkins, longer than all of the others. Monsters and nightmares and death and chance to make it right. Apologies for not doing it better, doing it sooner. For not wanting to risk it, for pushing Eddie away. Promises that Steve would call him as soon as it was over, that he was only writing this just in case. That it wouldn't ever be sent, and he'd burn the whole box after they won. Then he'd drive up and apologize in person, explain it in person, fix it, because Eddie meant more to him that Steve had ever let show, and he wanted to make it right.

At the bottom was a post script.

"Eds, If it doesn't work out, call this number, and ask for Robin. She knows the whole thing. She'll help. So will the kids. I hope you never read this. So I'm sorry if you are."

#my writing #steve and eddie #warmup writing #ficlet

[cas-kingdom]

Can you please write Damon cheering up sis!reader by taking her out for some 1 on 1 time? Maybe even some grumbling from Stefan when they get back home lol ❤️

"If this is what you call a date, I want you to know I'm not impressed."

Damon Salvatore rolled his eyes to the high heavens and punted a stone across the grass. "Would you stop your grumbling? God," he said, "you try to do something nice."

You dragged your feet totally unnecessarily. "I'm tired."

"You wouldn't complain like this if it were Stefan, would you?" He stared straight at you, immediately noting the hesitation flit across your face. He stopped. "Would you, you little snake?” You turned on your heel, walking backwards and sticking your tongue out. Damon grit his teeth and surged forward, making a swipe for you. You easily darted out of the way but wasn't as lucky the second time, your brother catching your head in the crook of his arm and mussing your hair.

"You're a vampire," he said above your screaming, "you can't get tired. Ooh, bunny rabbit."

He let you go, stumbling, and approached the oblivious black rabbit. You recovered and grabbed his wrist before he could snatch the animal.

"No, no, no, don't." Damon gave you a look and your mirrored it. "Just let it exist, D."

"Fine, but when I'm hungry later and wanna snack on a passing tourist, don't come crying." You slapped his shoulder and he leaned down, beckoning to his back.

"Come on, get on." You merely blinked in response and he rolled his eyes once more. "Get on, or I'm leaving you behind." You, figuring this was the only way you were getting to the top of the mountain, jumped onto his back with all the grace of a baby elephant. Damon, ever the drama queen, groaned under the weight. "Damn, sis, how much do you weigh?"

You kicked his hips. "Walk on, ass."

Damon had hauled you out of the house that morning without allowing you—or Stefan—a word in edgeways. "It's a date," he'd said when you’d protested, "we're going on a date." Said date apparently included hiking up the tallest mountain in Virginia.

You moved faster now you were off the ground, hanging around his neck with your cheek against the back of his head. Your eyes followed the moving view until Damon got to the top and the trees cleared. You lifted your head and dropped down as he let go of your legs. "Woah."

"What'd I tell you, kiddo?"

"It's beautiful."

"Yeah, I—" A sharp trill pierced the quietude at the top of the answer and Damon grumbled, reaching into his pocket to yank out his phone. The name caused him to audibly roll his eyes "—aw, seriously?" He put the phone to his ear. "Hi, bro. No, bro, I haven't kidnapped our sister. We're having a dandy old time, thanks very much. She's fine, we're fine, the bunny's fine, and don't even think about coming after us because you're not invited. This is a date." And with that, the phone was turned on silent and pushed right back into his pocket.

You crossed your arms over your chest and grinned, one brow raised. "Eloquent."

Damon rolled his eyes and sat at the edge of the mountain. "Come here. Come on, I won't let you fall." He rose a brow playfully. "Maybe."

You gave him a look but came to sit beside him anyway, making extra sure to be close enough that if the wind blew a little too hard and you did topple over the edge, he'd be able to grab you in time.

"I brought you here when you were a kid, you know?" Damon thought about that. "Well, more of a kid than you are now, I mean."

"Yeah?"

"Yup. Carried you all the way up. You said your legs were tired." He jabbed you in the side. "Guess some things don't change."

“Hey, I walked up most of it by myself.” You jabbed back.

“Yet the question remains…will you walk down by yourself?” He rose his brows in question. You narrowed your eyes but didn't respond, prompting your brother to snort.

"What did I think of it then?" you asked. The views were gorgeous, but you doubted you’d appreciated them as much when you were younger.

"Absolutely no idea. You fell asleep on the way up." Damon didn't sound impressed. You grinned. "Seriously. Busted my ass climbing up that hill and you weren't even awake to see all this."

"You didn't wake me up?"

"You were a deep sleeper."

"Belated sorry."

"Accepted."

You leant against him, your shoulders touching. "That's why you wanted to come today?"

Damon shrugged. "Seems a shame not to see it at least once." He paused. "And to spend some time together." You glanced up at him. "What?"

You said nothing. You shook your head and rested it against his shoulder, reaching to take his hand in yours. "I missed you too, big brother."

TVD Masterpost

#vampire diaries #the vampire diaries #damon salvatore #stefan salvatore #damon x reader #damon salvatore x reader #stefan x reader #stefan salvatore x reader #damon x stefan #stefan x damon #reader #reader fic #teen reader #KINDA #teen!reader #sister reader #sister!reader #vampire!reader #mine #vampire reader

[esamastation]

Part fifty-one of Shizuroth, aka, the SOLDIER General's Self Saving Shizun.

Ao3 link.

Previous parts: forty, forty-one, forty-two, forty-three, forty-four, forty-five, forty-six, forty-seven forty-eight, forty-nine, fifty

-

"Angeal Hewley speaking."

"Well, you sound chipper tonight. Is Wutai not treating you right?"

"Oh. Hello, Genesis. How are things in Midgar?"

"Things are… they are such as they are. The work of a hero never ends. And so forth."

"That good, huh?"

"Mmm. Now do tell me why you sound like someone gone trampling all over your honour."

"Heh, nothing so bad, I promise. Just, you know. Sephiroth."

"More of his glowing Alignment practice?"

"..."

"Oh, so it's something new now? Do tell! All of us in Midgar are dying to know how things are developing. How is the Healer of Worlds doing?"

"... I guess the Turks have already reported it. Well. For one, he's learned how to fly."

"... Come again?"

"Sephiroth learned to fly. Or, I guess, it's more like weightlessness? He can make himself feather-light and just jump on tree tops and glide around."

"... Angeal, my dear friend, this isn't time for jokes."

"Oh, I'm not joking, Genesis, I'm really not. He can fly now. It's really something. He didn't so much explain as he insinuated, but I think it's some kind of gravity or mass manipulation that he can now do. Because of his Alignment practice. Apparently it's bearing fruit."

"... Wonderful. Infinite in mystery is the gift of the Goddess. We seek it thus, and take to the sky. Some of us literally."

"Suppose that's one interpretation of it."

"Tch. And I suppose by now the Good Professor has been informed, and we will be hearing of these developments from him directly."

"Probably, yeah."

"Tch. Well, I suppose it would be nice to know how to fly. How many of us will end up with our wings clipped before such heights are achieved, forever…"

"Genesis…"

"They still don't admit that there have been deaths. Janson was supposedly killed in action, but he wasn't even on a mission at the time. The others have been cadets, but it's only a matter of time."

"I'm sorry. I wish I was there."

"No you don't. Be glad you aren't - though, as G type SOLDIERs, you and I aren't compatible with these new methods anyway. Such fortune we have, such graces we have been granted."

"We all signed up for this. We all volunteered, in order to enter the program."

"Yes, and not a single one of us knew what that meant. Well, except perhaps for Sephiroth. Not that he ever truly signed up. You know, I have been looking into his history, I've dug out his medical records, trying to figure out what they are after -"

"Genesis, that's a breach of trust -"

"The lives of my men matter to me more than Sephiroth's secrets and pride. Not that the files were any help - the story they paint is more a horror story than anything. Whatever Hojo is trying to recreate, if it takes as many experiments as Sephiroth has gone through…"

"I thought they already nailed down the cause. The overdose, right?"

"That's the prevalent theory, yes. But after the first few cases of Mako Poisoning and death, they rather gave up on recreating that particular experiment at least."

"They gave up? But, aren't they still calling SOLDIERs in for extra doses?"

"They are, but there's not as much Mako in it. They're injecting something else, now - more of the carrier agent, supposedly - though Goddess alone knows how many had to be resuscitated for them to get the point."

"... What's the current total of casualties?"

"Four deaths including Janson and seven in coma, two of them SOLDIER. Oh, and one confirmed brain death, which is just lovely."

"A SOLDIER?"

"No… a cadet. What they're keeping him alive for I don't know, but… there we have it."

"... Shit."

"Angeal Hewley, is that cursing I hear?! What a day to be alive."

"Very funny. How do you know about what's going on in the labs? I thought they'd pretty much banned you from them?"

"They did, but I have my ways."

"... Right. Do your ways explain why Lazard isn't doing anything about this?"

"Not much he can do. Hojo will do what he wants, and he'd promised Heidegger a new, higher class of SOLDIER after this, so you can imagine his reaction. And of course the President is all for it!"

"Ah, I… see."

"Indeed. You know what they're saying in the labs now? They're saying that SOLDIERs were created to be the second coming of the Ancients. That we were supposed to be able to, among other things, cast spells without the need of Materia."

"I… heard something like that too, a long time ago, but I didn't put much stock in it. It sounded a bit too fantastical for me."

"Well, supposedly, that's exactly what they wanted. They gave up on it, because, well, it didn't work, and because the side effects were even more useful. Superhuman soldiers! Much better than Ancient myths, when you have a war to be fought. Only now the war is almost over, and Sephiroth has apparently figured out how to fly."

"Ah."

"I can only imagine the consequences this will have."

"Yes, um. There's something else."

"Something else? Angeal, please don't tell me you're been holding out for me."

"Well, not really, but, um. Did you know Sephiroth can speak and read the Wutai language?"

"... I didn't, but I'm not surprised. Among SOLDIERs he's spent the most time over there."

"Well, I didn't know. The Turks didn't know. I don't think it's in his file either."

"Another thing he's been keeping to himself and can no longer remember why?"

"Maybe, but, Genesis, there's… another thing. There was a group of Wutai warriors that we intercepted, and Sephiroth had a one-in-one duel with their captain - and then he spoke with him. In their language. Now, I can't understand written Wutai at all, but I can sort of follow the conversations…"

"I am duly impressed, my friend. Though more with the idea of Sephiroth having a conversation with a Wutai soldier - after having a duel with them. What, did he raise their spirit somehow?"

"Very funny, but no, he didn't kill the man. That's not the point - Genesis, the Wutai Captain called Sephiroth's accent ancient."

"... Angeal, you're kidding me."

"Not like Ancient ancient. I'm pretty sure the moniker they use for Ancients is different. Ancestor, maybe? Something like that. Anyway, Deng Yuto called Sephiroth's accent ancient, meaning really old."

"... Huh. So to recap, Sephiroth gets a massive dose of Mako, flatlines, comes back, forgets almost everything about himself, develops some new habits, has a bunch of strange questions about the way Materia, Mako, EXP and MP work… and now he's developing new magical abilities, and speaking a language like someone from a long time ago."

"That's about the size of it."

"Damn."

"... Yeah."

"... Hey, Angeal?"

"Yes, Genesis?"

"I think I have a theory of what's going on."

"I thought you might."

-

Lmao I have no idea where this is going 👀🍿

#Fanfiction #ff7 #svsss #angeal hewley #genesis rhapsodos

[el121a]

Being Elijah's Wife would include

Your flirtatious and magnetic confidence lingered in the memories of those you met, making you a topic of conversation long after the event had ended.

1 word to describe you would be genuine.

Elijah would never tell you, but even though it was too dangerous for a human to accompany him, he believed you made him look better and enjoyed having you around.

You are Elijah's pride.

Being Marcel's friend, you navigated the supernatural world with grace and charm.

Even when you're mad at Elijah, you can't help but believe in him. "Elijah has re-constructed diplomacy to bitchy insults and it still works, so… Yeah, I think he’s got this."

You may have not been a vampire, but you knew how to take care of one.

You were warm and approachable but commanding, a perfect balance that captivated those around you.

You and Elijah would work out together, finding entertainment in witnessing what a vampire could do.

Being the closest to Kol and Davina, you bridged the gap between the Mikaelsons and their extended family.

Being a mother figure to Kol, and of course Davina now that they're married.

You're just as much of a fashionista as he is, You wore only the finest. Picky is an understatement . No zippers,glitter, or anything that looked cheap to you.

Elijah was possessive of you since you were his greatest treasure.

Having children with Elijah after a thousand years of not being able to reproduce was a blessing and a testament to your unique bond.

You didn't care to insult anyone like your husband did, but your sharp wit was a force to be reckoned with.

Elijah is a sex god in your eyes- or anyone's of reason, and you're not shy about expressing it to his praise kink.

Elijah is busy, but you take on some of his responsibilities willingly, understanding the weight of his duties.

At first, he was afraid to ask for sex, but that notion quickly faded as he realized your desires matched his.

Elijah always buys you flowers on your monthly dates, a tradition that never fails to make you feel cherished.

He married the most gorgeous person in the world — you! And he tells you it's his biggest feat, a sentiment that never fails to bring a smile to your face.

You and Elijah share great laughs, finding joy in the simplicity of each other's company.

You teased him for losing his Viking demeanor to a suit during sex, and he's gotten less snobby trying to prove himself to you. Everyone has noticed, but no one will ever know why.

You both walk around the quarter at night, immersing yourselves in the timeless charm of New Orleans.

He's comfortable being a vampire around you.

You both read and write together, creating a world where words are your shared language.

After your showers, he braids your hair into Viking braids for the night or the rest of the day, a small intimate ritual.

And you braid his, a gesture that signifies the intertwining of your lives.

You guys cook together. Taking your time and talking about your day or upcoming day with him. The most relaxing part of your day as his Wife.

You knew him since you were a teen, so you feel like you know him in and out.

He's mostly submissive, except in bed. He tries to be, but he just can't keep his hands off you.

You didn't drink vervain because you felt that to be an insult to your husband, trusting him completely. You were an amazingly powerful sorcerer though.

Elijah fell inlove with you becasue of your love of Ideas, always having critiques, theories and your philosophical rants encouraging him to talk. How you listened to him like no other.

You created another type of magic for vampires in your studies of the supernatural because the human sacrifices weren't cutting it for you — pun intended.

When you first came back into his life, he was scared to love you because you were all he owned. Nothing Klaus had. By loving you, you taught him how to love himself. Congrats to you.

He has a secret breeding kink, One that you take advantage of. Along with his sir, Mr, and teaching kink. Nothing too wild, He's more of a romantic.

He grew a stubble for you when you told him you thought it made him look more like a DILF, embracing his role of a father.

Elijah doesn't want you on the tip of your toes to kiss him, so he lifts you effortlessly, creating a height equality you both relish.

He's your best friend, and he can say the same about you — a companionship that transcends time and immortality.

#kinda used my oc for help #the originals #the vampire diaries #tvdu #elijah mikaelson #tvd #elijah mikaelson headcanons #dad elijah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikealson x reader #elijah mikaelson datenight #elijah mikaelson one shot #vampire #fluff #x reader #klaus mikaelson #klelijah

[coolprettyleo]

talk of the town - starlight au

tw: lowkey cringe. if ur not into it lmk lowk...

wc: 1.4k

will smith x influencer/ d'amelio sister au

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

dylan couldn't believe the shit day she was having. she had woken up late and missed her pilates class, then she spilt coffee all over her laptop, and right now she was fifteen minutes late to her music class. it was her first ever day of college too.

even though she was having a horrible day, she was still dressed cute. she decided she wanted to start taking her school more seriously. and that meant actually going to class.

the thing about dylan though is that she didn't need school. she had over one hundred million followers on all platforms. she was what someone would call an influencer.

influencers usually didn't continue with school if they didn't need to so when dylan decided to still attend college it was a shock to a lot of people; including her family.

her family were all also influencers and didn't decide to attend college; rather deciding to work on their brand instead. a brand that dylan opted out of, she had decided to enter marketing at boston college.

she entered her music class to find that there was no less than twenty five students inside. thats what happens when you attend a private college! dylans strategy her whole life was to always sit in the back of classes. (it was easier to skip class and just lie to the professor and say you were there)

there was one seat left where three other boys sat. she set her stuff down. the boys giving her an odd look, not thinking anyone was going to take that last seat between them or probably trying to figure out why the hell she looked so familiar. dylan got that look often.

the professor though was deep in lecture about their upcoming assignment and dylan was too busy trying to find a top for her upcoming brand dinner in New York. she was pulled out of her own little world when the professor noticed she was not listening and had missed the introduction part of class and decided to call her out on it.

she felt a tap from the boy next to her getting her attention because it seemed the professor had been calling her.

"oh my gosh im so sorry what" she said removing an AirPod and sheepishly looking at the class who all seemed to be either smiling at her or giving her dirty looks.

"since you decided to grace us with your presence introduce yourself please" she said pointing to a slide that stated what exactly to say.

"uhm... im dylan. im from connecticut but I've been living in LA for the past four years, and im a marketing major" she said awkwardly feeling like everyone was judging her.

"alright thank you miss dylan. I want to see the title slide of the assignment done before I dismiss you guys" she said.

the three boys she sat with seemed to be life long friends and she was feeling a bit left out. she had zoned them out till she heard them whispering to each other.

"ask her"

"no thats weird"

"ill ask"

"your tiktok famous huh"

she looked up to a freckled boy her while the dark haired boy giggled and the blonde haired boy cringed.

"uhm, yeah... I guess" she said awkwardly. she really didn't know what to say.

"nice" he said going back to working on his assignment.

she smiled awkwardly and looked at the other two boys. who looked like they were cringing about their friends actions. the dark haired boy seemed to let it go and work on his assignment while the blonde one spoke up.

"im sorry about him, ryan doesn't know how to talk to girls"

"yes I do! if I didn't how would I of pulled frankie" ryan says.

"she basically pulled you" gabe quipped back.

dylan just giggled along to their battering. they seemed funny.

"he's fine. a lot of people don't realize its me in real life but instead just stare at me trying to figure out why I look so familiar, and thats creepier to me"

"well we knew it was you because everyones been saying you go here" ryan told her.

oh god it was a hot topic?

"people talk about it?" she said grossed out.

"yeah, but like no one ever sees you for some reason"

"I did online classes and lived in LA last semester" she told them. it was true, her family was filming their Hulu show and it didnt make sense for her to leave mid-way through filming.

"do you live on campus?" the blonde one asked her again. he seemed like the quiet and calmer one of the three boys.

hes hot

"no, I live in beacon hill, the city"

"why didnt you dorm" gabe nosily asked.

"I didn't think it would be too fun to share an apartment with random girls at first but now I regret it, because I have no friends here" she honestly told them.

"oh my god! my girlfriend has no friends!" ryan said loudly. which made will, gabe, and the people around them to laugh.

"im telling her you said that" will smiled mischievously at him.

"shutup smitty. we have a game tonight and she usually sits alone or with my parents but they're not coming tonight so she'd probably like the company!" ryan said. he was honestly just trying to do a nice thing. he knew frankie struggled with the fact she had no girl friends; even though she said it was fine, and dylan seemed nice.

"game?" Dylan said confused.

"oh ya! we play hockey" the freckled boy answered.

"oh thats cool!" dylan said. she had attended a couple games recently due to the fact her sister was dating an NHL player.

"im will, thats gabe, and ryan" the blonde one said pointing the dark haired boy and the freckled one.

"im dylan. and what's your girlfriends number, id be down to go" she said to the freckled one.

"here" he said writing it down and handing her a crumpled paper.

"her names frankie by the way"

"okay, ill text her after class" she said smiling getting back to work.

"what's your major?" will asked her. he didn't want the conversation to end for some reason. she was lowkey his celebrity crush since he was like fourteen and they first started getting famous.

"marketing. you?"

"communications"

"your quite the communicator then" she said.

oh my gosh dylan you sound pathetic what the hell even is a communicator?

what didnt help was that will looked clueless and Ryan and gabe seemed to be biting back a smile acting like they weren't listening.

"im sorry?"

"like, you like communications- like the major" dylan said, trying to save herself but digging an even deeper and awkwarder hole, turning as red as a tomato.

"uhm ya, I didn't really know what major to pick coming in" he said smiling at her. a smile that dylan liked to see.

"well what do you want to be?"

"a hockey player."

"oh... too bad hockey isn't a major huh" she said chuckling at her own joke while ryan and gabe gave her funny looks except will of course, who was laughing at the joke like it was the funniest thing ever said. (thats what your supposed to do when your crush tells a joke)

"and what do you want to be"

"honestly, I dont know. I just want to have the degree so I can have more of a say in the brands I deal with, and all that"

"so you want the knowledge" gabe said, since he's been listening.

"yeah, basically" she said. making eye contact with will who looked to be studying her a bit.

he knew she wanted to say more but seemed to be putting up a wall which was understandable seeing as she just met these boys twenty mins ago.

"well im all done." she said closing up her laptop and standing up.

"maybe ill see you guys later!" she said waving to them.

"look for 6" will said to her.

"six what?" she said confused.

"what?" he said equally confused now

"six of what" she said cluelessly.

"like the number six" he said smiling awkwardly.

"oh!! omg I knew that! okay!" she said grabbing her bag and waving bye to them.

gabe and ryan gave each other a knowing look before immediately chirping will.

"you are such a flirt"

"that was painful"

"and he said I dont know how to talk to girls"

"shutup guys" he said packing his stuff away before leaving. hoping to see her in the stands tonight. her personality was even cuter.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

im so sorry for not uploading! I just keep overthinking everything so I end up just deleting it! but thats just a me problem lol. but I hope u guys like this au. I plan to the it all together.

#nhl imagine #ryan leonard #gabe perreault #nhl imagines #will smith hockey #bc hockey #hockey fic #will x dylan!! #will smith x reader #gabe perreault x reader #ryan leonard x reader

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Brinklump Linkdump

Catch me in Miami! I'll be at Books and Books in Coral Gables on Jan 22 at 8PM.

Life comes at you fast, links come at you faster. Once again, I've arrived at Saturday with a giant backlog of links I didn't fit in this week, so it's time for a linkdump, the 14th in the series:

https://pluralistic.net/tag/linkdump/

It's the Year of Our Gourd twenty and twenty-four and holy shit, is rampant corporate power rampant. On January 1, the inbred droolers of Big Pharma shat out their annual price increases, as cataloged in 46Brooklyn's latest Brand Drug List Price Change Box Score:

https://www.46brooklyn.com/branddrug-boxscore

Here's the deal: drugs that have already been developed, brought to market, and paid off are now getting more expensive. Why? Because the pharma companies have "pricing power," the most reliable indicator of monopoly. Ed Cara rounds up the highlights for Gizmodo:

https://gizmodo.com/ozempic-wegovy-wellbutrin-oxycontin-drug-price-increase-1851179427

What's going up? Well, Ozempic and other GLP-1 agonists. These drugs have made untold billions for their manufacturers, so naturally, they're raising the price. That's how markets work, right? When firms increase the volume of a product, the price goes up? Right? Other drugs that are going up include Wellbutrin (an antidepressant that's also widely used in smoking cessation) and the blood thinner Plavix. I mean, why the hell not? These companies get billions in research subsidies, invaluable government patent privileges, and near-total freedom to abuse the patent system with evergreening:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/23/everorangeing/#taste-the-rainbow

The most amazing things about monopolies is how the contempt just oozes out of them. It's like these guys can't even pretend to give a shit. You want guillotines? Because that's how you get guillotines.

Take Apple. They just got their asses handed to them in court by Epic, who successfully argued that Apple's rule requiring everyone who sells through the App Store to use Apple's payment processor and pay Apple 30% out of every dollar they bring in was an antitrust violation. Epic won, then won the appeal, then SCOTUS told Apple they wouldn't hear the case, so that's that.

Right? Wrong. Apple's pulled a malicious compliance stunt that could shame the surly drunks my great-aunt Lisa used to boss in the Soviet electrical engineering firm she ran. Apple has announced that app companies that process transactions using their own payment processors on the web must still pay Apple a 27% fee for every dollar their process:

https://finance.yahoo.com/news/apples-app-store-rule-changes-draw-sharp-rebuke-from-critics-150047160.html

In addition, Apple will throw a terrifying FUD-screen up every time a user clicks a payment link that goes to the web:

https://www.jwz.org/blog/2024/01/second-verse-same-as-the-first/

This is obviously not what the court had in mind, and there's no way this will survive the next court challenge. It's just Apple making sure that everyone knows it hates us all and wants us to die. Thanks, Tim Apple, and right back atcha.

Not to be outdone in the monopolistic mustache-twirling department, Ubisoft just announced that it is going to shut down its driving simulator game The Crew, which it sold to users with a "perpetual license":

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VIqyvquTEVU

This is some real Darth Vader MBA shit. "Yeah, we sold you a 'perpetual license' to this game, but we're terminating it. I have altered the deal. Pray I don't alter it further":

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/26/hit-with-a-brick/#graceful-failure

Ubisoft sure are innovators. They've managed the seemingly impossible feat of hybridizing Darth Vader and Immortan Joe. Ubisoft's head of subscriptions, the guillotine-ready Philippe Tremblay, told GamesIndustry.biz that gamers need to get "comfortable" with "not owning their games":

https://www.gamesindustry.biz/the-new-ubisoft-and-getting-gamers-comfortable-with-not-owning-their-games

Or, as Immortan Joe put it: "Do not, my friends, become addicted to water. It will take hold of you, and you will resent its absence!"

Capitalism without constraint is enshittification's handmaiden, and the latest victim is Ello, the "indie" social media startup that literally promised – on the sacred honor of its founders – that it would never sell out its users. When Ello took VC and Andy Baio questioned how this could be squared with this promise, the founders mocked him and others for raising the question. Their response boiled down to "we are super-chill dudes and you can totally trust us."

They raised more capital, and used that to create a nice place for independent artists, who piled into the platform and provided millions of unpaid hours of creative labor to help the founders increase its value. The founders and their investors turned the company into a Public Benefit Corporation, which meant they had an obligation to serve the public benefit.

But then they took more investment money and simply (and silently) sold their assets to a for-profit. Struggling to raise capital, the founders opted to secretly sell the business to a sleazy branding company called Talenthouse. Its users didn't know about the change, though the site sure had a lot of Talenthouse design competitions all of a sudden.

Finally, the company announced the change as the last founders left. Rather than announcing that the new owners were untrustworthy scum, warning their users to get their data and get out, the founders posted oblique, ominous statements to Instagram. The company started stiffing the winners of those design competitions. Then, one day, poof, Ello disappeared, taking all its users' data with it. Poof:

https://waxy.org/2024/01/the-quiet-death-of-ellos-big-dreams/

I'm sure the founders' decisions each seemed reasonable at the moment. That's every terrible situation arises: you rationalize that a single compromise isn't that big of a deal, and then you do the same for the next compromise, and the next, and the next. Pretty soon, you're betraying everyone who believed in you.

One answer to this is "Ulysses pacts": making binding commitments to do right before you are tempted. Throw away all your Oreos when you go on a diet and you can't be tempted to eat a whole sleeve of them at 2AM. License your software under the GPL and your investors can't force you to make it proprietary. Set up a warrant canary and the feds can't force you to keep their spying secret:

https://locusmag.com/2021/01/cory-doctorow-neofeudalism-and-the-digital-manor/

If the founders were determined to build a trustworthy, open, independent company, they could have published their quarterly books, livestreamed their staff meetings, built data-export tools that emailed users every week with a link to download everything they'd posted since the last week. Merely halting any of these practices would have been a signal that things were wrong. Anyone who says they won't be tempted in the moment to make a "reasonable" compromise in the hopes of recovering whatever they're trading away by living to fight another day is bullshitting you, and possibly themself.

The inability to project the consequences of your bad decisions in the future is the source of endless mischief and heartbreak. Take movie projectors. A couple decades ago, the studio cartel established a standard for digital movie distribution to cinematic exhibitors called the Digital Cinema Initiative. Because studio executives are more worried about stopping piracy than they are about making sure that people who pay for movies get to see them, they build digital rights management into this standard.

Movie theaters had to spend fortunes to upgrade to "secure" projectors. A single vendor, Deluxe Technicolor, monopolized the packaging of movies into "Digital Cinema Prints" for distribution to these projectors, and they used all kinds of dirty tricks to force distributors to use their services, like arbitrarily flunking third-party DCPs over picky shit like not starting and ending on a black frame.

Over time, the ability to use unencrypted files was stripped away, meaning every DCP needed to be encrypted, and every projector needed to have up-to-date decryption keys. This system broke down on Jan 1, 2024, and cinemas all over the world found they couldn't play Wonka. Many just shut down for the day and refunded their customers:

https://www.theverge.com/2024/1/1/24021915/alamo-drafthouse-outage-sony-projector

The problem? Something that every PKI system has to wrangle: an expired certificate from Deluxe Technicolor. The failure has been dubbed the Y2K24 debacle by projectionists and film-techs, who are furious:

http://www.film-tech.com/vbb/forum/main-forum/34652-the-y2k24-bug-major-digital-outage-today

Making everything worse is that Sony mothballed the division that maintains its projectors, so there's no one who can update them to accommodate Technicolor's workaround. Struggling mom-and-pop theaters are having to junk their systems and replace them. There's plenty of blame to go around, but Sony is definitely the most negligent link in the chain. Shame on them.

Big corporations LARP this performance of competence and seriousness, but they are deeply unserious. This week, I wrote, "we're nowhere near a place where bots can steal your job, we're certainly at the point where your boss can be suckered into firing you and replacing you with a bot that fails at doing your job":

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/15/passive-income-brainworms/#four-hour-work-week

Score one for team deeply unserious. The multinational delivery company DPD fired its support staff and replaced them with a chatbot. The chatbot can't tell you where your parcels are, but it can be prompt-injected into coming up with profane poems about how badly DPD sucks:

https://twitter.com/ashbeauchamp/status/1748034519104450874

There once was a chatbot named DPD, Who was useless at providing help. It could not track parcels, Or give information on delivery dates, And it could not even tell you when your driver would arrive.

DPD was a waste of time, And a customer's worst nightmare. It was so bad, That people would rather call the depot directly, Than deal with the useless chatbot.

One day, DPD was finally shut down, And everyone rejoiced. Finally, they could get the help they needed, From a real person who knew what they were doing.

This is…the opposite of an AI hallucination? It's AI clarity.

As with all botshit, this kind of AI self-negging is funny and fresh the first time you see it, but just wait until 3,000 people have published their own versions to your social feed. AI novelty regresses to the mean damn quickly.

The old, good web, by contrast, was full of enduring surprises, as the world's weirdest and most delightful mutants filled the early web with every possible variation on every possible interest, expression, argument, and gag. Now, you can search the old, good web with Old'aVista, an Altavista lookalike that searches old pages from "personal websites that used to be hosted on services like Geocities, Angelfire, AOL, Xoom and so on," all ganked from the Internet Archive:

http://oldavista.com/

I miss the old, good internet and the way it let weirdos find each other and get seriously weird with one another. Think of steampunk, a subculture that wove together artists, makers, costumers, fiction writers, and tinkerers in endlessly creative ways. My old pal Roger Wood was the world's most improbable steampunk: he was a gay ex-navy gunner who grew up in a small town in the maritimes but moved to Toronto where he became the world's most accomplished steampunk clockmaker.

I was Roger's neighbour for a decade. He died last year, and I miss him all the time. I was in Toronto in December and saw a few of his last pieces being sold in galleries and I was just skewered on the knowledge that I'd never see him again, never visit his workshop:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/16/klockwerks/#craphound

A reader just sent this five-year-old mini documentary about Roger, shot in his wonderful workshop. Watching it made me happy and sad and then happy again:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eqMGomM8yF8

The old, good internet was so great. It was a place where every kind of passion could live. It was a real testament to the power of geeking out together, no matter how often the suits demand that we "stop talking to each other and start buying things":

https://catvalente.substack.com/p/stop-talking-to-each-other-and-start

The world is full of people with weird passions and I love them all, mostly. Learning about Don Bolles's collection of decades' worth of lost pet posters was a moment of pure joy (I just wish more of it was online):

https://ameliatait.substack.com/p/the-man-who-collects-lost-pet-posters

That's the future I was promised: one where every kind of freak can find every other kind of freak. Despite the nipple-deep botshit we wade through online, and the relentless cheapening of words like "innovation" and "future," there are still occasional gleams of the future I want to live in.

Like the researchers who spliced a photosynthesis gene into brewer's yeast (a fungus) and got it to photosynthesize, and to display enhanced fitness:

https://www.cell.com/current-biology/fulltext/S0960-9822(23)01744-X

As Doug Muir writes on Crooked Timber, this is pretty kooky! Fungi – the coolest of the kingdoms! – can't photosynthesize. The idea that you can just add the photosynthesis gene to a thing that can't photosynthesize and have it just kind of work is wild!

https://crookedtimber.org/2024/01/19/occasional-paper-purple-sun-yeast/

As Muir writes: "Animals have no evolutionary history of photosynthesis and aren’t designed for it, but the same is true for yeast. So… no reason this shouldn’t be possible. A photosynthesizing cat? Sure, why not."

Why not indeed?!

OK, that's this week's linkdump done and dusted. It only remains for me to share the news with you that the trolley problem has been finally and comprehensively solved, by [email protected], of the IWW IU 520 (railroad workers):

Slip the switch by flipping it while the trolley's front wheels have passed through, but before the back wheels do. This will cause a controlled derailment bringing the trolley to a safe halt.

https://kolektiva.social/@sidereal/111779015415697244

I'm Kickstarting the audiobook for The Bezzle, the sequel to Red Team Blues, narrated by @wilwheaton! You can pre-order the audiobook and ebook, DRM free, as well as the hardcover, signed or unsigned. There's also bundles with Red Team Blues in ebook, audio or paperback.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/20/melange/#i-have-heard-the-mermaids-singing

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