#but about the plant thing he was still a little doubtful since he wouldn’t think Kni would disclose that information so easily.

[sturnswrites]

protective!matt and innocent!reader see each other for the first time since high school …

You hadn’t expected him to look like this.

The office is sleek and imposing—floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the pulse of New York, deep charcoal tones, and marble accents that scream precision. It’s exactly what you’d expect from a man like Matt Sturniolo. But none of it is as commanding as him.

When he looks up from the paperwork on his desk, the first thing you notice is the way his piercing blue eyes meet yours, steady and sharp, sending a ripple through your chest. You remember those eyes, even after all these years, but they seem different now—hardened, more focused. They hold the weight of someone who doesn’t let anyone too close.

“You’re here,” he says simply, as though he doubted you’d actually show up.

You nod, clutching your sketchpad tighter against your chest. “Of course. I wasn’t going to back out of a project like this.”

His gaze softens just a touch, but his expression remains unreadable. “I wouldn’t have asked you if I didn’t trust you to handle it.”

Those words settle deep in your stomach, warm and unexpected. Matt had hired you—sought you out specifically for this project, despite being surrounded by some of the best designers in the city. He’d told you in his email that he admired your work, that your eye for creating spaces that “felt like people” was exactly what his office needed.

But standing here, in his presence, you can’t help but feel out of place.

“It’s been a while,” you manage, your voice quieter than you’d like as your gaze darts away from his.

“Years,” he agrees, standing from behind the desk. He moves with the kind of confidence that fills a room effortlessly—broad shoulders, rolled-up sleeves revealing strong forearms, and a no-nonsense air about him that makes your pulse stutter. Yet, there’s a familiarity to him, too, like he’s still the boy you passed in the halls of your Boston high school.

“Boston feels like a lifetime ago,” you add softly, not knowing what else to say.

Matt tilts his head slightly, the hint of a smirk pulling at his mouth. “You haven’t changed as much as you think.”

Your cheeks heat at the way he’s looking at you, like he’s remembering something only he knows—something that feels too heavy for the quiet moment stretching between you. “I don’t know if that’s a compliment,” you joke, trying to keep the mood light as you scan the pristine office.

“It is,” he replies, his voice low but sure. “You’ve always had a way of seeing things differently. That’s why you’re here.”

That catches you off guard, and you glance back at him to find his eyes still fixed on you, holding your gaze like he’s daring you to look away. There’s something in them—something protective, almost possessive—that wasn’t there before.

“Thank you,” you say quietly, your voice almost lost in the cavernous room.

Matt nods, shoving his hands into the pockets of his dark trousers. “Let’s see what you’ve got in mind, then.”

The words are professional enough, but the way he says them—steady, low, and just a little too soft—makes your heart skip. You busy yourself pulling out your sketchpad, desperate for something to distract you from the weight of his attention.

As you start explaining your ideas, your voice finds confidence in the familiarity of your work. You talk about softening the harsh lines of the space, adding warmth and texture to make the office feel less like a fortress and more like him.

Matt listens intently, never once interrupting. His eyes follow you as you move around the room, gesturing to where you’d add natural light, plants, subtle artwork that tells a story. It’s only when you glance back at him that you catch it—the faintest hint of a smile playing on his lips.

“You’ve thought this through,” he says finally, his voice softer than before.

“I don’t take projects lightly,” you respond, standing taller despite the flutter in your chest. “Especially not ones like this.”

For a beat, the silence hangs between you—thick, charged, and laced with something you can’t quite name. It’s the energy of two people who know each other but don’t, who share a history but have yet to bridge the gap the years have created.

“You haven’t changed,” he repeats quietly, his eyes lingering on you a moment too long.

“And you have,” you counter, surprising even yourself with the boldness in your voice. “But not as much as you think.”

That earns you a faint, knowing smirk, and the glint in his blue eyes shifts—something softer, something real.

As you turn back to your sketches, you feel him watching you still. The tension is palpable, humming just beneath the surface, like an unspoken understanding that this project—this reunion—will be more complicated than either of you are willing to admit.

But Matt hired you for a reason. He trusted you. And for now, that has to be enough to steady the chaos he so effortlessly brings into your carefully curated world.

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

[mscutino]

HIIII i heard ur requests were open so i was kinda hoping, since vld is doing a comeback that u would write abt it✊✊

soooo i was thinking about keith and a paladin!reader kinda hiding their relationship from the team and keith getting jealousss of someone in the team the reader is close to

Thank u for writing for vld!!!! i hope u understand my request!! im not rlly good at english;( BYE THANK UUUU💗💗💗💗

╰─ ✧*̥ 𝐌𝐂 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 爱

═════════════════════

╰─ ✧*̥ REQUEST • Jealousy | Keith Kogane

BACK OFF

i’ve been waiting for this !! thank you for requesting, and your english is beautiful !!

a/n: kinda rushed, not edited (will fix!)

═════════════════════

Things between you both had been official for a while now, however it was hard to really give yourselves the time you needed. With fighting for the universe and the burden that came with it, time for yourselves became sacred.

But despite it all, doubt never once planted itself in your mind. The worry of being left behind or pushed to the side never came.

However for Keith, things were a little different.

He loathed every moment spent away from you. His heart bounced across his chest just thinking of the next time he’d be able to just be beside you - even if it was in the middle of battle.

Though the other paladins would call him “distant” or “loner,” he secretly craved closeness - affection. Behind closed doors he was clingy, vulnerable under your gaze and your gaze only. Whenever he had the chance, he’d jump to you, holding you like it’d be the last time.

“Keith, I promise it’s okay,” you laughed, trying to wiggle your way out of his hold.

“I’m not letting you go until I have to.” His words left no room for negotiation. So you let him hold you, basking in the silence lost so often in the chaos of war.

Keith was officially back and leading the team as the pilot of the Black Lion. His time with the Blade - and more importantly with his mom - really helped him find himself. But he knew he wouldn’t be complete until he came back to you.

You completed him.

Small steps echoed outside the hangar, the size of the room amplifying the noise. There was no telling just how close the steps were so Keith hesitated to let you go. Both of you and strained to hear, preparing to move at any moment. By the time Pidge rounded the corner you both were separated by a 10ft pole, awkwardly pacing around the lion.

“Uhm, did I come at a bad time?”

You cleared your throat, trying to appear casual as Pidge raised an eyebrow, clearly picking up on the tension. "No, not at all," you hurried out. "We were just…checking on the lions. Routine maintenance, you know?”

Keith's jaw clenched as he avoided eye contact with Pidge, his arms crossed a little tighter than usual. It didn’t take a scientist to sense something was off, but she just shrugged.

"Well, if you’re done ‘checking out the lions,’" Pidge said with a smirk, "we’ve got a mission debrief in five minutes. Shiro wants everyone at the bridge ASAP. I think Lance mentioned something about you, specifically," she added, looking pointedly at you.

You nodded, trying to keep a straight face, but you could feel Keith's mood shift immediately at the mention of Lance. You glanced at him quickly, catching the glint in his eyes. Keith might have looked calm to anyone else, but you knew him well enough to pick up on the subtle signs of jealousy in his tightened posture and the way his gaze lingered just a bit longer than usual.

After Pidge left, you looked at him, chuckling softly. “Keith, it’s just Lance.”

Keith’s expression softened slightly, but he still had that guarded look in his eyes. “I know,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s just… he’s always around you.”

You reached out, touching his hand gently. “You have nothing to worry about, I promise.”

He sighed, looking down as he took your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours briefly before letting go.

Something changed while Keith was gone, and whatever it was needed to end now. Lance’s pining towards you was taking the cake for most irritating thing in the Castle by far.

Just then, Lance’s voice echoed through the hangar over the intercom. “Hey, Y/N! If you don’t show up soon, I’m coming down there to drag you back myself!”

You shot Keith a look, suppressing a laugh. “See? No big deal.”

But as you walked away, you could feel his gaze on you, the weight of his unspoken worry residing in the back of your mind.

Keith watched you leave, his mind whirling with frustration he couldn’t put into words. Lance was harmless - he knew that. But every time he saw the two of you laughing or sharing a moment, that nagging feeling gnawed at him. What if one day, you started wanting someone else? Someone more open, less complicated than him?

“Keith?”

Your voice reeled him away from his thoughts. A pang of guilt hitting him suddenly. “Y-Yeah. Coming now. Just finishing up here,” he waved you off. “See you on the bridge.”

══════════════

The memory of your worried face had plagued him the entire way up to the bridge. Neither of you had anything to worry about when it came to your relationship, but he just couldn’t help himself.

“About time you showed up,” Lance dramatically sighed, slumping further back into his seat.

Keith ignored him, making his way towards the rest of the paladins. As he got closer, he managed to catch the tail end of the conversation between you and Shiro.

“Once that’s complete, Lance will accompany you back. Allura and I have things managed here.”

Shiros eyes looked past you, acknowledging Keith before he continued, “Keith, I’ll need you here. We need to compile all the info the Blade of Marmora was able to provide you. We’ll need all the help we can get.”

Keith nodded, though the frustration was building. He wanted to be the one going with you, ensuring your safety. Before he could ask Shiro why he had to stay back, Lance’s voice cut in, breaking his train of thought.

“No worries, Shiro. You can count on me!” Lance said with a confident grin, hopping up from his seat and giving you a playful nudge. “We’ll be in and out in no time.”

Keith’s jaw clenched, his gaze narrowing as he watched the interaction. Lance seemed oblivious, but you noticed the tension in Keith’s expression and shot him a reassuring glance.

“Let’s make it quick, though, okay?” You smiled politely, though your voice held a hint of awkwardness. “We’ve got a lot of things to do.”

But Lance, too preoccupied with his own jokes, just laughed. “Hey, it could be worse. You could’ve been stuck with Keith for this trip,” he teased, smirking as he lightly bumped your shoulder.

Without a second thought, Keith stepped forward, his voice sharp. “Back off, Lance,” he said, his tone carrying a searing edge.

The bridge fell silent. Allura and Hunk looked up, wide-eyed, while Shiro’s gaze shifted between Keith and Lance, his brow furrowed in confusion. Lance’s grin faded as he glanced over, raising an eyebrow.

“Whoa, what’s with the attitude, Keith?” Lance asked, trying to laugh it off, but Keith’s stare was intense, his fists clenched at his sides. His protective instincts had boiled over, leaving little room for rationality.

“If your just going to be an ass the whole trip there then I’ll go with Y/N,” Keith rolled his eyes, trying to lessen the earlier blow.

However Lance wasn’t putting up with it, giving Keith a pointed look. “Since when do you care so much? And so what, worried she’s not gonna like you anymore?”

“I said, back off.” Everyone’s eyes were on him now, the worry weighing on his heart even more obvious once his eyes met yours.

Shiro finally intervened, clearing his throat,“Alright, enough. We’re all on the same team here.”

Keith looked away, jaw clenched, but he took a step back, exhaling as he tried to reel in his emotions. His frustration still simmered, but Shiro’s words were enough to keep him from saying anything more.

Lance gave one last sideways glance at Keith before turning back to you with a shrug. “Guess we should get going before things get any more… intense.”

You shot him a warning look, hoping to keep things from spiraling any further, then looked back at Keith. “I’ll be back soon, okay?” you said softly, your voice filled with reassurance meant just for him. “Don’t lose your head, hot shot.”

Keith’s expression softened slightly as he looked at you, nodding. “Be careful,” he murmured, his voice losing its edge as his worry crept through.

As you two left the silence was thick, and it was clear to everyone on the bridge that there was something more behind his outburst. Questions brimmed on the tip of their tongues, but they held their breath - choosing otherwise.

══════════════

It had been hours before you finally returned from the mission. Giggling better yet, however it was ruined when Keith noticed you were giggling with Lance.

Walking down the hallway of the hangar, your voices bounced off the walls. Unbeknownst to you both, Keith sat idle by a work bench, fiddling with the computer. Pretending to be busy while also conveniently ease-dropping.

“Thanks Lance, really. Make sure to give these to Shiro,” you handed over the crate of items to him, pulling on the straps snuggly. “Now don’t drop it.”

“Hey, have some faith in me! You and Keith are always so mean to me,” he dramatically sighed, shifting the crate in his arms. “Oh, and speaking of Keith,” he paused for a second, watching for your reaction at the mention, “Can I ask something?”

You tilted your head, surprised by the sudden seriousness in his voice. "Ask about what?"

He hesitated, fiddling with the straps of the crate as he searched for the right words. It was clear he’d been thinking about this for a while, even if he was struggling to say it. He might act oblivious sometimes, but he’d noticed the small things - like the way Keith’s eyes only ever watch you, or how in a room full of people, Keith always finds you.

"I just…" he started, avoiding your gaze, "was wondering if there was something between you and—”

"Keith?" you finished for him, raising an eyebrow. You couldn’t help the small hint of a smile pushing past your lips.

Lance cringed backwards, caught red-handed in his curiosity. “Oh, come on. I’m not blind, you know!”

You tilted your head slightly, watching his expression shift between curiosity and awkwardness. "Why would you think that, Lance?" tone teetering along playful.

Lance shrugged, trying to play it off with his usual bravado. "Well, I dunno. He’s different when you’re around. Just seems like more than ‘team stuff.’" He paused, his tone softening a little as he added, “I mean, not that it’s weird or anything.”

A pang of guilt tugged at you for keeping it a secret, but you knew it was best for now. It’d have to stay this way until things calmed down. But a part of you hoped that sooner rather than later that change would come. The longer you went hiding it, the less you cared about keeping it a secret. Maybe later you’d take it up with Keith.

“Plus, it’s Keith of all people. It’s so weird,” a shiver ran through Lance, his almost comical fear of Keith pulling a few giggles out of you.

“Oh, relax. Keith isn’t so bad - ”

“He’s the meanest guy on the team!” Lance interjected, the crate shifting slightly in his hold. He continued his rant, too consumed by his exasperation to notice you pulling him away from the hangar.

"Seems like you’ve got bigger problems than I do, Lance," you teased, giving him a playful shove toward the door. "We’ll talk about this later. See you around, ‘ladies man.’"

The door shut before he could argue, muffled sulking on the other side of the door.

“‘Ladies man?’ Really?”

You jumped from your spot, eyes frantically searching the hangar before landing on a familiar head of hair.

“Keith! How long have you been standing there?!”

He shrugged, taking a few steps closer. "Long enough. Pretending to be useful," he teased, though his gaze lingered on you, an unmistakable warmth in his eyes. “Heard you were back, but saw that guy.”

“Keith? Jealous of Lance?” you laughed, copying his crossed arm stance. “Didn’t think I’d see the day.”

The wink you sent his way had nearly done him in, but his pride kept him standing.

He closed the space between you both, running his hand up your arm. “Whatever.”

[natashasfilms]

You’re Losing Me

Summary: Dating a colleague has always been an exhilarating experience. However, as you reach a point where you’re ready to take the relationship further after spending years together, doubts start to creep in. You begin questioning whether you’re the only one putting effort into saving something that seems to be slowly fading away.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x BAU!Fem!Reader

Warnings: taylor swift’s song “you’re losing me”, angst, fluff, coworker relationship, language, drowning, stabs, injuries, usual criminal minds stuff, use of y/n, lovers to exes to lovers again, not really unrequited love, insecurity, making out, happy ending

Word Count: 7,938 (the longest one shot i’ve written so far…)

Note: It’s been so so so long since I’ve posted anything on here, so enjoy a little Aaron Hotchner one shot! I’m think of writing an Aaron Hotchner/Criminal Minds series, similar to my Steve Harrington/Stranger Things series, but it may take me a while to finish writing the entire thing. Maybe I’ll write a few chapters and then upload those and write along as I go but I don’t want to do that in case I lose motivation throughout the midst of it. We’ll see what happens! It’s just that I’m super busy but I have such great ideas for this series!

Criminal Minds Masterlist

As the sunlight slowly filtered through the windows, you began to awake from your slumber. Opening your eyes, you gazed at the ceiling and felt the comforting embrace of a pair of arms around your waist. Turning your head, you smiled at the man sleeping beside you and planted a gentle kiss on the top of his head. After disentangling yourself from his arms, you got out of bed.

Quickly, you took a shower, brushed your teeth, and dressed for the day. Upon leaving the bathroom, you found your boyfriend, Aaron, sitting at the edge of the bed, rubbing his eyes. “Morning, Aaron.” You greeted him.

He looked up with a grin, standing up to meet you. “Morning.” He responded, giving you a kiss on the cheek before heading to the bathroom himself.

You then entered Jack’s room to wake him up and get him ready for school. Seeing him still asleep, you approached with a gentle touch, waking him with a soft rub on his head. “Jack, sweetie, it’s time to wake up.”

Jack groaned, still half-asleep. “Five more minutes.”

You chuckled, playfully poking his cheek. “Come on, buddy. You’ll be late for school.” Eventually, Jack sat up in bed, and you left his room with a cheeky smile.

Preparing breakfast for your two boys, you heard footsteps down the hall. Setting the plates on the table, you watched as Jack settled into his seat. “Thank you, Y/N! This looks good!”

Nodding, you gave him a quick kiss on the forehead before you and Aaron sat down at the table. He reached out to hold your hand as a gesture of thanks, which made your heart flutter with affection.

After bidding Jack farewell and dropping him off at school, you and Aaron began your drive to work. Upon arriving, you entered the office first, as your relationship with Aaron was not public knowledge except to Strauss. You both agreed to keep it quiet to avoid potential workplace issues, though you wouldn’t mind being open about it if the opportunity arose. You weren’t entirely sure how Aaron felt about that.

Sitting at your desk, you watched Aaron make his way upstairs to his office, trying not to draw any unnecessary attention. Your colleagues, Emily, Derek, Elle, Spencer, and JJ, were already at their desks, engaged in friendly chatter while working on their paperwork. You joined in, laughing at Emily and Derek’s playful banter.

At times, you felt the urge to spend more time with Aaron in his office, but you respected his decision to keep your relationship private. However, you couldn’t help but wonder if you were the only one who truly cared about the relationship. Four years together, and you were eagerly awaiting for him to pop the question. But that seemed to be indefinitely postponed. It sometimes felt like you were the only one putting effort into the relationship.

Fortunately, the entire day turned out to be pleasantly light. With no new cases, the office was buzzing with paperwork and fueled by several cups of coffee. Every so often, Penelope would come over to chat with all of you, as she often felt lonely in her own office. Her presence brought joy, and you always welcomed her with a warm smile, her infectious happiness lifting your spirits.

As the day drew to a close, the office was nearly empty, with only you, Aaron, and Elle remaining on the current floor. Elle grabbed her bag, ready to head out.

“See you tomorrow, Elle.” You called out, waving.

Elle smiled back at you. “You’re leaving right now, right?”

You nodded, turning to your desk to organize your files. “Yep, just need to gather these files and hand them over to Hotch.”

Her eyes shifted to the man in question, who was still seated at his desk in his office. “Does he ever sleep?” Elle asked, furrowing her brows.

Chuckling, you stood up. “I’d like to say yes, but he’s practically a robot.”

Elle hummed, and her gaze returned to you. “Do you want me to wait for you?” She offered.

You widened your eyes slightly, quickly clearing your throat. “Oh, no, you go ahead. I don’t want to keep you waiting.”

“It’s not a problem, honestly.” Elle reassured you, but you waved your hand dismissively.

“No, really. You can go on ahead. I have to ask Hotch a few questions about the paperwork, anyway.”

You noticed a subtle shift in Elle’s eyes, but you couldn’t quite pinpoint it. “Right. Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N.” She said, bidding you goodbye before making her way to the glass doors and stepping into the elevator.

Feeling a sense of relief, you let out a sigh, almost convinced that Elle had caught on to your and Aaron’s relationship. Shaking your head to dismiss such thoughts, you collected all the files and made your way up to his office, lightly knocking on the door. Aaron’s voice invited you in, prompting you to enter.

As he looked up from his work, his stern expression softened into one of happiness at the sight of you. You couldn’t help but grin, placing the files on his desk. “It’s late, we should get going.”

Furrowing his brows, Aaron checked the time, and his eyes widened in surprise. “Oh, I didn’t even realize how late it got.” He admitted, quickly gathering the files and organizing everything for the next day.

Both of you exited the building and walked to your car. Settling inside, you watched Aaron start the engine and drive off, your mind preoccupied with thoughts. You were contemplating whether to broach the topic of taking your relationship to the next level or even considering making it public. Although you should have felt at ease discussing it with Aaron, anxiety gripped your heart, causing it to beat rapidly.

Despite knowing Aaron to be the most kind-hearted man you’ve known for years, you couldn’t help but fear his response. You didn’t want this conversation to become a make-or-break moment for your relationship, yet you also couldn’t bear to keep hiding in the shadows any longer.

Arriving at your shared apartment, you both entered, setting your bags down by the door and turning on the lights. With Jack spending the night at Jessica’s, you and Aaron found yourselves alone, creating an opportunity for you to bring up a potentially important conversation.

Deciding to allow yourselves a moment to freshen up and have dinner before broaching the important topic, you wanted to ensure neither of you went to bed hungry in case the conversation didn't go smoothly.

After showering, having dinner, and relaxing, you finally felt ready to initiate the conversation. Throughout the evening, you sensed Aaron’s eyes on you, and it was time for him to ask what was bothering you.

“You’ve been tense all night.” Aaron observed, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder as you both sat on the couch. “Is something wrong?”

Your mind raced through different approaches to the problem, but you still didn’t feel fully prepared as you began to respond to his question. “I’ve been doing some thinking.”

He arched an eyebrow, pulling you closer by wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “Care to share?”

With a tight-lipped smile, you took a deep breath, attempting to calm your nerves. “Have you ever considered...making our relationship public?”

As soon as the words left your mouth, Aaron’s arms dropped from your shoulder. Your heart sank to the pit of your stomach, dreading his response.

“Aaron?” You anxiously waited for his answer, but he fell silent, trying to find the right words to respond to you. “Can you please say something?”

Aaron’s face tightened with hesitation as he tried to find the right words to respond to your question. He glanced away, unable to meet your eyes directly, and sighed heavily. “I...I haven’t really thought about going public.” He finally admitted, his voice tinged with uncertainty. “Our relationship has always been private, and it’s been working for us. I’m afraid of how things might change if we make it public.”

Your heart sank, sensing the reluctance in his response. “But Aaron, we’ve been together for so long, and I’m tired of just hiding our relationship. I want to be with you openly, without constantly worrying about keeping it a secret.” You pleaded, tears welling up in your eyes.

“I know that.” Aaron said, his voice softening. “But we both know how the nature of our work is. If our relationship becomes public, it could jeopardize everything we’ve built here. I can’t risk that, especially for Jack’s sake.”

Frustration and sadness engulfed you, and you felt a surge of emotions welling up inside. “So, you’re choosing your job and keeping up appearances over us? Over me?” You exclaimed, your voice quivering with hurt.

“That’s not what I meant. It’s just not that simple.” Aaron replied, reaching out to touch your arm, but you pulled away.

“Then enlighten me, Aaron. What do you mean? Because maybe it’s not simple for you, but it is for me.” You said firmly, your heart breaking. “I can’t keep living like this. I deserve better than this, Aaron.”

He looked torn, his eyes reflecting his own pain. “I don’t want to lose you.” He murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

“But you’re not willing to fight for us.” You responded, tears streaming down your cheeks. “Tell me, Aaron. Did you even plan on marrying me?”

His silence spoke louder than words, and it was all you needed to get your answer. The truth hung heavily in the air, and your heart shattered in less than two minutes, your fears coming true. The pain of realization washed over you, leaving you feeling raw and vulnerable.

You desperately wanted things to go back to how they were, to find comfort in the familiarity of your relationship. But deep down, you knew that settling for someone who didn’t put effort into the relationship wasn’t right for you. You deserved someone who cherished and valued you, someone who saw a future with you and was willing to fight for it.

“Looks like you’ve already lost me.” You said, your voice cracking with emotion. You hastily wiped away your tears, determined not to break down completely. Standing up from your spot on the couch, you avoided Aaron’s gaze as you walked away, trying to maintain some composure. “I’m sleeping in the guest room tonight.”

The realization that the love of your life might not have felt the same way about you as you thought shattered your heart into pieces. You couldn’t bear to stay in a relationship that made you feel worthless.

What made it even more painful was that Aaron had always been the kindest man you had ever known. He had made you feel loved, supported, and cared for, especially during your lowest moments. However, now, you couldn’t help but question everything.

“Dad?” Jack spoke, catching his father’s attention as he helped put his backpack on. “When is Y/N coming back?”

It had been a week since you and Aaron broke up, and the impact of the decision weighed heavily on both of you. In the aftermath, you moved out of Aaron’s apartment, leaving behind the memories of a once loving relationship. Aaron struggled with the reality that you weren’t living with him anymore. He had tried to apologize and convince you to reconsider, but you remained firm in your decision. You believed that taking some time and space apart was essential for both of you to figure out what you truly wanted.

“I’m not sure, buddy.” Aaron replied to Jack with a gentle smile, masking the turmoil within his heart. “Y/N needed some time to think about things, and we both agreed it was best to take some space for now.”

Jack frowned, sensing that something significant had changed. He missed having you around, and it was hard for him to understand the complexities of adult relationships. But he trusted his father and hoped that things would work out for the best.

Despite your desire for space, maintaining it was extremely challenging when you had to work together. Nevertheless, you were grateful that the rest of the team didn’t seem to notice any change in your demeanor towards each other. You made a concerted effort to act as you always did while on the job, which wasn’t too difficult, considering you had always portrayed your relationship as strictly professional, pretending to know each other only as coworkers.

Aaron despised himself for not being open and honest with you that night, for jeopardizing the relationship you had built over the years. He loved you deeply, and the thought of marrying you had crossed his mind countless times. However, fear had gripped his heart. The pain of losing Haley had left him hesitant about committing to another relationship, and he believed he could never truly move on. Yet, you had always supported him throughout that challenging time. Your constant presence by his side, understanding, and care had gradually allowed him to let go of his fears. Before he knew it, he had become deeply attached to you, and his love for you had grown immeasurably.

It wasn’t that he was ashamed of you that he didn’t want anyone to know about your relationship. Instead, Aaron feared that making it public might endanger you, given the high-stakes nature of their work and the potential risks involved. He wanted to protect you from any repercussions that might arise if their personal relationship were exposed in the often dangerous and unpredictable world they worked in. Although it pained him to keep your love hidden, he believed it was a necessary precaution to keep you safe. After Haley, he didn’t want to make the same mistake again.

Now, he felt utterly foolish. Regret washed over him as he realized he should have communicated with you more openly, explaining why he felt the way he did instead of leaving you to question his love. The pain of knowing that you thought he didn’t reciprocate your feelings, that you believed he was ashamed of you, weighed heavily on his heart.

He wished he could turn back time and find the courage to share his fears and concerns with you, to let you know just how much he loves and values you. The thought of causing you any hurt had never been his intention, but he had failed in expressing himself clearly.

The team sat aboard the private jet, en route to your destination for a new case that demanded your immediate attention. Three homicides, spread across different cities, all linked by a hauntingly similar MO. The victims shared connections that hinted at a calculated pattern, but local law enforcement had hit a dead end, prompting the call for FBI assistance.

Aaron and you purposefully chose seats away from each other, not wanting to add any awkwardness to the already tense situation. As the team delved further into the case, everyone meticulously examined the evidence within the case files.

You scanned through the disturbing details, striving not to let any grimace betray your inner emotions. Over the years, you had grown accustomed to such gruesome cases that it took an emotional toll on even the most seasoned profilers. Yet, you knew that suppressing your emotions was essential to focus on the task at hand.

“Morgan, Prentiss, and Elle, I want you three to check the latest victim’s crime scene and look for anything new. Reid, JJ, and L/N, I need you to head to the coroner’s office and examine the autopsy reports.” Aaron said, making brief eye contact with you for a second before turning his attention back to the team. “Rossi and I will head to the precinct to talk to the local PD and settle in.”

As soon as the jet landed, you, JJ, and Spencer swiftly made your way to one of the BAU SUVs and drove to the coroner’s office to examine the bodies. You were driving the car, while JJ was in the passenger seat, and Spencer was sitting in the back. You conversed with the other two throughout the entire drive, Spencer spitting his genius facts every now and then.

Once you made it inside, the three of you were greeted by the coroner, who led you to the room where the bodies were laid out. Carefully examining the wounds on the victims, you couldn’t help but notice something intriguing. “They’ve all been stabbed exactly twenty times, each stab in a different part of the body.” You stated, glancing at JJ and Spencer for their input. “This was rage.”

Spencer leaned in, his eyes narrowing with concentration. “The repetitive nature of the stab wounds indicates an intense emotional release, possibly stemming from deep-seated anger or frustration.”

JJ nodded in agreement, her empathy guiding her understanding of the crime scene. “Maybe the unsub had a personal vendetta against the victims, and he was trying to send a message with the way he’s stabbed them.”

Spencer couldn’t help but share one of his characteristic and oddly fascinating facts. “Did you know that throughout history, the number twenty has often been associated with completeness and cycles? It’s interesting that the unsub chose this specific number.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, contemplating the possibility. “Or maybe the number twenty was important to him? It could hold some significance to the unsub, and he chose it to exert control or leave a twisted signature on the victims.”

JJ nodded in agreement, her eyes reflecting the shared curiosity. “It’s definitely not uncommon for unsubs to attach meaning to their actions or rituals. The number twenty might be a representation of something personal or symbolic to him.”

Spencer’s eyes lit up, adding on to you and JJ. “Numerology has been linked to criminal behavior in certain cases. The choice of numbers might reflect the unsub’s belief in its power or its alignment with his twisted motives.”

As you carefully examined the stab wounds on the victims’ lifeless bodies, a particular detail caught your attention. There was an absence of significant bleeding around the wound sites. The wounds appeared uniform in depth and angle, lacking the telltale signs of hemorrhage typically associated with antemortem stabbings.

You turned to the coroner with a furrowed brow. “These stab wounds...they seem different from typical antemortem injuries. Is there any indication that the victims might have been submerged in water before the stabbing?”

The coroner paused, considering your observation. “Well, we did find traces of water in the airways and lungs of all the victims during the autopsies.” The coroner replied. “It’s possible they were drowned before the stabbings occurred.”

“He’s drowning them and then stabbing them?” JJ questioned, her arms crossed against her chest. “What about signs of sexual assault?”

The coroner shook her head. “There were no signs of sexual assault in the report.”

Spencer chimed in, his gaze intense. “It’s possible that this unsub’s violent ritual provides him with a sense of release. The act of drowning the victims may serve as a form of control or domination, followed by the symbolic significance of twenty stabs, and perhaps linked to a personal obsession or fixation.”

You added to Spencer’s insight. “The number twenty might hold significant meaning to him, reinforcing the notion that these killings are deeply personal and methodically planned.”

JJ looked troubled, contemplating the unsettling pattern before you. “If he’s targeting the victims like this, he might have a connection to them. Something in their past could be triggering this cycle of violence.”

You nodded your head, your gaze remaining fixated on the lifeless forms. “Let’s head back and meet with the others.”

The three of you met up with the rest of the team at the precinct, where you all gathered around the crime board, sharing your findings and insights from the investigations. As each detail was added to the board, the case started to take shape, revealing disturbing connections and patterns.

Throughout the meeting, you couldn’t help but sense Aaron’s occasional glances in your direction. Part of you hoped he would approach you and start a conversation, maybe even attempt to mend what was broken between you both. Yet, another part of you felt a tinge of relief that he hadn’t approached you, as facing him would only reopen the wounds that were still raw.

It had only been a week since the painful breakup, and you found yourself torn between wanting to be understood and yearning for his apologies, and the need to protect yourself from further heartache. The longing for him to realize his mistakes, coupled with the desire to put the pieces of your life back together, weighed heavily on your emotions.

You also couldn’t help but miss Jack dearly. Saying goodbye to him before you left had been one of the hardest moments, knowing that he couldn’t fully comprehend the reasons behind your departure. The memories of the mornings you spent with him, preparing breakfast and engaging in playful moments, tugged at your heartstrings. You had cherished those moments, but you knew that staying in an emotionally draining situation wouldn’t be fair to either of you.

At the end of the day, exhaustion weighed heavily on the entire team, the toll of the stressful investigation demanding a much-needed rest. However, they were confident in the amount of evidence gathered, giving them a solid foundation to construct a profile when they regrouped.

Reaching the hotel, the team bid each other farewell, knowing they’d reconvene in the morning to continue the investigation. You let out a weary sigh as you entered your room, eager to collapse onto your bed. Shutting the door behind you, you finally allowed yourself a moment of peace. Without delay, you made your way to the bathroom, seeking to refresh yourself after the intense day.

Emerging from the shower, you felt more relaxed. After brushing your teeth, you slipped into comfortable sleepwear, embracing the coziness that enveloped you.

As you were about to settle into your bed, there was a knock on your door. Confusion washed over you, wondering who could be visiting at this hour. Walking cautiously to the door, you peered through the peephole and let out a soft sigh upon recognizing Aaron’s familiar face.

You opened the door, raising an eyebrow, giving him the signal to speak. His nervous demeanor was uncharacteristic of the stoic Aaron Hotchner, who rarely showed any signs of anxiety.

“Can I come in?” He asked, and a part of you wanted to roll your eyes at his request, but you held back your emotions. Suppressing a disgruntled noise, you opened the door wider, allowing him to enter your room.

Aaron wasted no time, quickly stepping inside as if he feared you might change your mind and shut the door on him. His uneasiness was palpable, and you couldn’t help but wonder what had driven him to seek you out in this vulnerable state.

With the door closed, you faced him, waiting for an explanation as to why he had come to your room at this late hour. “How are you?” He questioned, and you almost scoffed.

“What do you need?” You asked instead, completely ignoring his question.

His heart twinged with pain when he heard your voice, sensing the coldness in your tone, a reflection of the hurt he had caused. Taking a deep breath, he gathered his courage, determined to make things right. “I wanted to apologize for everything. I hated how things ended between us, and if I could turn back time, I would do so in a heartbeat just so I wouldn’t be the one who broke your heart.”

Your arms were crossed protectively over your chest, and he could see the struggle behind your eyes as you fought back tears. The mere week of separation had been agonizing, making him yearn for your presence more than ever. He longed to hold you in his arms again, to kiss you like they had for the past four years. But he understood that he couldn’t expect you to forgive him so easily.

“Jack misses you.” He continued, his voice laced with regret. “He asks for you every day, wondering if you’ll come back. It breaks my heart each time he does.” Your heart ached for the little boy, whom you had grown to cherish as your own. “And I miss you too, more than I can put into words. I’m willing to do anything and everything to fix things.”

Your gaze locked with his, and he saw the emotions swirling within you. “Aaron, I don’t know.” You began, and he felt his heart drop, fearing your answer. “How do I know you won’t do the same thing again? You’re only saying this because you realized what you had after you lost me.”

He shook his head, almost reaching for your hands but stopping himself, respecting the space you needed. “No, that’s not true. I’ve always loved you, Y/N. Yes, I was an absolute idiot, but I’m not just saying this because I realized what I had after I lost you. You mean the world to me, and I love you. If you just let me show you that I won’t make the same mistake ever again. I want everyone to know you’re mine, and it was never my intention to hide you away. I love you, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make things right.” His voice was filled with sincerity, pleading for another chance to prove his love and commitment to you.

You bit your bottom lip, trying to think of what to say. “Aaron, I think I need some time.” You said, truthfully. “I just need some space to figure out what I truly want. Throughout all these years, I’ve longed for you to prioritize us, but it never happened. Maybe I was too naive to believe it ever would.” Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes, avoiding the pained look on his face. “I love you, too, but I can’t ignore the fact that I wanted you to put me first, instead of this job, and to consider a future together. I wanted to get married, but I don’t think you felt the same.”

He was about to say something, but you held up a finger, needing to continue.

“Honestly, I probably wouldn’t marry myself either.” You confessed softly. “I’ve spent so much time trying to please everyone, especially you. It’s been exhausting, trying to be the perfect girlfriend or even a future wife, when it felt like I was the only one making an effort. I sent you countless signals, hoping you’d notice, but it seemed like you didn’t want to acknowledge the cracks in our relationship.”

You let out a deep breath, relieved to have finally expressed your thoughts that had been brewing for months. Opening your eyes, you looked at Aaron, and his broken appearance tugged at your heartstrings. You longed to turn his frown into a smile, to fix everything, but you knew it wasn’t that simple.

“You’re wrong.” He finally spoke, his voice cracking with emotion. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, listening intently. “Of course I wanted to marry you.” He continued, his eyes searching yours for understanding. “But I was just too scared.”

“Scared of what?” You asked softly, urging him to open up.

“Of losing you, though it seems like I already did.” He said, a sad chuckle escaping his lips that didn’t reach his eyes. “After Haley, I never thought I would be capable of falling in love again. I had built walls around my heart, convinced it was safer that way. But then you were always there for me and I let myself fall for you, and it scared me.” He paused, gathering his thoughts, and continued. “I couldn’t bear the thought of putting you in danger because of this job, just like I did with Haley and Jack. I blamed myself for her death, and I didn’t want history to repeat itself. That’s why I kept our relationship hidden. I was afraid it would expose you to unnecessary risks.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you listened to his heartfelt confession. “Aaron.” You said, your voice filled with empathy. “You didn’t have to carry all that burden alone. We could have faced it together.”

He nodded, his eyes filled with remorse. “I know, and I should have trusted us more. But my fear consumed me, and I made a terrible mistake by pushing you away.”

You walked closer and reached out to gently touch his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. “I understand why you did what you did, but it hurt to be kept in the dark. We could have faced those fears together as a team, just like we always do in these cases.”

“I know, and I wish I had the strength to open up to you sooner.” He whispered, leaning into your touch. “I’m so sorry.”

You leaned your forehead against his, savoring the closeness between you. Bringing your free hand to touch his other cheek, you felt his arms wrap around your waist, drawing you even closer to him. “This could have gone so differently if you had opened up to me, Aaron.” You whispered, looking into his eyes with sincerity. “But I still think we need some time apart. Just for a little bit.”

He closed his eyes, absorbing your words, and then nodded his head. “I know, and if that’s what you want, then I won’t oppose it.”

“Okay.” You whispered back, feeling a mix of sadness and hope in your heart. He stepped back, giving you a soft smile, before he turned to walk towards the door. “Wait.” You called out, stopping him in his tracks. He turned around, and without hesitation, you gently cupped his face in your hands and leaned up to kiss him on the lips. It was a tender, lingering kiss, full of unspoken emotions. He held onto your hands, cherishing the brief moments of the kiss, until you finally let go. “Goodnight.” You murmured, your voice tinged with both affection and uncertainty.

He looked dazed, as if he were in some sort of dream, processing the intensity of the moment. He tried his best to speak, finally managing a quiet “Goodnight” before he turned and left your room.

The next day, the team gathered at the precinct, ready to delve into the evidence with fresh eyes after sleeping. However, it was a restless night for both you and Aaron. Sleep seemed elusive as you tossed and turned, your mind consumed with thoughts of everything Aaron had said. Meanwhile, Aaron found himself replaying the kiss you shared before he left, and he couldn’t shake the weight of your words and emotions regarding your relationship and his actions.

After a few hours of relentless effort, Penelope’s expertise paid off, and she managed to uncover a name and address for the unsub. Putting on your bulletproof vests, the team raced to the SUVs, determined to catch the dangerous individual before he could harm anyone else.

Arriving at the address, you were met with an empty house. The unsub was nowhere to be seen, so you scanned the surroundings for any possible clues. Aaron spoke up, his voice firm. “We need to find any leads, any hints on where he might keep his victims.”

The team split up, meticulously combing through the scene, searching for any shred of evidence that could provide a much-needed breakthrough. The tension was palpable, knowing that every moment counted in preventing further tragedy.

As you examined the area, some of the photos on the wall caught your eye. The pictures consisted of different landscapes, however, when you looked more closely, the pictures seemed to be connected despite it being in separate frames. You called the team over and examined the photos, sending them over to Penelope to help find the location.

Penelope’s voice came through on the comms, her excitement evident. “Guys, I think I’ve found something. The pictures seem to be at a park near the house! I’m sending you the address now!”

As soon as you got the address, you raced out of the house and back into the waiting SUVs, speeding towards the destination. Upon arriving at the location, you split into groups. You, Elle, and Emily formed a team, eyes fixed on the abandoned warehouse nearby. Silently, you pointed towards the building, an unspoken agreement passing between you. You slowly and quietly walked, guns at the ready as you approached the structure.

You skillfully maneuvered around the back, while Elle and Emily advanced with their guns and flashlight inside, searching the shadows for any traces of the unsub. As you searched the back and began to think it was clear, you suddenly felt a forceful grip clamp over your mouth, muffling any sound you might have made. Before you could react, a sharp impact hit your head, sending you reeling into temporary darkness.

As you gradually regained consciousness, your surroundings came into focus, and panic washed over you at the sight of the unsub standing before you. Fear pulsed through your veins as you realized you were weaponless and vulnerable. His sinister laughter sent shivers down your spine, and you knew you had to act fast.

His sadistic grin filled you with dread as he taunted you, relishing the power he held over you. Every instinct urged you to escape, but he had already restrained you with a cruel grip, leaving you little room to maneuver. Your heart pounded in your chest, and you desperately scanned your surroundings for any possible means of escape.

As terror surged through your veins, you realized you were next to a lake. The sight of its dark waters filled you with dread, as you knew the unsub intended to use it against you. With adrenaline coursing through your veins, you drew upon every ounce of strength you possessed, mustering a deafening scream in hopes that your team would hear you.

But the unsub was swift as well. Before you could make a move, he forcefully plunged you into the icy water. The coldness was shocking, stealing your breath away as he held you submerged. Panic surged through you as you fought against his unyielding grasp, struggling to resurface for air.

Despite your efforts, he held you down, with no chance of escape. Each time you managed to rise, gasping for breath, he mercilessly forced you back into the depths, determined to drown you just like all the other victims.

As darkness threatened to consume you, your mind raced with thoughts of your team. You wondered if they were close, if they could hear your cries for help, and if they would find you in time. You didn’t even know if they were nearby or if the unsub took you to a different location while you were knocked out. The uncertainty only deepened your desperation, as you clung to the hope that rescue was on its way.

As you struggled to hold on, your strength waned, and you found yourself slipping away, succumbing to the relentless pressure of the unsub’s grip. Helplessly, you surrendered to the suffocating darkness that surrounded you. That’s when a sudden, deafening gunshot pierced the air, tearing through the silence.

In the blink of an eye, the unsub’s hold on you loosened, and you were released from his grasp. He tumbled into the water, gone with a well-aimed bullet through his head. Aaron dropped his gun and leaped into the water without hesitation, desperately reaching for your lifeless form before it could go any deeper.

Emerging from the water’s grasp, Aaron clutched you tightly in his arms as the rest of the team rushed to assist. His heart raced with panic, his mind consumed by the fear of losing you. You were unresponsive, your eyes closed, and the once rhythmic rise and fall of your chest had ceased. Time seemed to stand still as he began chest compressions and performed CPR, his every action fueled by a desperation to revive you.

He had tears streaming down his face and his voice trembled with emotion as he begged you to fight, to come back to him. He refused to accept that this could be the end, that he might lose the person he loved with his entire heart once again. The rest of the team looked on, their hearts heavy with concern, but also filled with hope as they witnessed Aaron’s efforts to bring you back.

Derek kneeled beside Aaron, gripping his shoulders with urgency as he tried to intervene. “Hotch! Stop! Let someone else take over!” He yelled, attempting to divert his attention.

But Aaron was relentless, his focus solely on you. He brushed Derek’s hands aside, determination etched across his face. “I won’t stop until she’s awake.” He declared, resuming his life-saving efforts without a second thought. With every ounce of strength he possessed, he continued to administer CPR.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you coughed and sputtered, water escaping from your lungs. Gasping for air, you struggled to find your breath. Aaron’s arms enveloped you in a tight embrace, holding you close as you fought to regain your composure.

“Oh, thank God.” Emily breathed, her hand pressed against her chest, relief washing over her after the initial fear.

Aaron released his hold on you, and Derek immediately enveloped you in a tight embrace. “Babygirl, you scared all of us.” He murmured, still feeling shaken by the close call. Elle, not one to be left out, quickly shoved Derek away and hugged you with genuine concern.

“We should’ve never let you go out there by yourself.” Elle expressed, feeling guilty that they had split up. “I’m so sorry.”

Emily, kneeling beside you, placed a reassuring hand on your back. “We should’ve gone together.”

You shook your head, offering a small smile to your caring teammates. “Stop blaming yourselves. It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known what would happen. At least I’m okay now.”

“Yeah, but you were dead for a few minutes.” Emily retorted with a scoff, still grappling with the shock of the situation.

You understood their concern, but you also knew that in their line of work, these moments were unfortunately part of the job. You reassured them. “I’m alright now, thanks to all of you.” And Aaron. You thought. You locked eyes with him, offering a reassuring smile. Though he didn’t return the smile, the glint in his eyes spoke volumes, telling you how grateful he was that you were still alive.

The EMT’s thoroughly checked you over, ensuring there were no other injuries, and concluded that you were fine. You sat at the back of the ambulance, swinging your legs back and forth, absently touching the bandage on your forehead where the unsub had hit you.

As you looked around, you saw the scene filled with law enforcement personnel. The unsub’s lifeless body was being carried away on a gurney, wrapped in a white sheet. A mix of relief and anger washed over you. Relief that he could no longer harm anyone else, and anger that he had taken the easy way out, escaping true justice.

Turning to your right, you noticed Aaron glancing back at you from time to time. Summoning some courage, you raised a hand and waved at him. This time, he smiled. A small yet genuine gesture that warmed your heart. Derek, ever the observant one, caught the interaction and couldn’t help but smirk. Playfully, he nudged Aaron on the shoulder, urging him to talk to you. Aaron, true to his stoic self, gave Derek a brief glare, which only made Derek raise his hands in surrender, laughing as he watched his boss walk away.

Aaron’s voice softened as he spoke, genuine concern in his eyes. “Are you okay? Do you need anything?”

You smiled, appreciating his caring nature. “I’m fine, Aaron.” Patting the spot next to you, you invited him to sit, and he obliged. Turning to face him, you brought your legs up to your chest. “Thank you for saving me.”

He shook his head, gazing up at the sky. “Don’t thank me. I’m just grateful that you’re alive.” His eyes met yours, and you could see the tears welling up. “I should’ve been there to protect you. I shouldn’t have let you go by yourself.”

You reached out to touch his cheek, trying to console him. “It’s not your fault, Aaron. I made the choice to check the back alone while Elle and Emily went inside. The blame lies solely on the unsub. Please, don’t carry that burden on yourself.” As he attempted to hold your hand, you pulled away slightly, causing his heart to ache. You were aware of your team’s eyes on you and didn’t want to fuel any rumors.

“Sorry, they might see us.” You explained.

He scoffed, refusing to let go of your hands. “I don’t care if they see us. It would be a miracle if they didn’t suspect anything. I was going insane while trying to save your life.”

“Aaron–”

“I want everyone to know about us. I don’t care anymore. I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe, but I will not let you go. You mean everything to me, and I’m sorry for everything.” His voice trembled with emotion. “Seeing you out there, not breathing, holding your lifeless body in my arms...I swear I didn’t know what I was going to do if you were gone. I love you, Y/N. And I will love you until the day I die.”

At his heartfelt words, you couldn’t contain yourself any longer. You pressed your lips firmly against his, cupping his face with your hands. He held onto your hands, responding with passion and intensity. The week had been long and stressful, but with Aaron finally admitting he didn’t care who saw you together, you embraced the moment, cherishing the love you shared with the man you couldn’t imagine living without.

You pulled away slightly, looking deeply into his eyes. “I love you too.”

“Marry me.” Aaron said, his voice filled with sincerity.

The shock registered on your face, mouth agape. “What?” You asked, your heart pounding.

“Okay, this wasn’t the way I planned on proposing to you, but I couldn’t wait anymore.” He chuckled, leaning his forehead against yours. “Will you marry me?”

You raised an eyebrow, playfully teasing. “I don’t see a ring anywhere.”

He rolled his eyes, a soft smile on his lips. “The ring’s hidden in my desk drawer at the office. I was waiting for the right time to propose, but I can’t wait any longer.”

Your eyes softened, and your heart warmed at his sweet gesture. “You bought a ring?”

Aaron nodded, gently kissing your hands. “I told you, I wanted to marry you. I want to marry you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you quickly wiped them away, trying to contain your emotions. “Yes, Aaron Hotchner. I will marry you.” You said, a mixture of excitement and love in your voice.

He grinned, relief and happiness evident in his expression. “You will?” He whispered.

“Yes, a million times yes.” You replied, your heart soaring at the prospect of spending your life with the man you loved.

With that, Aaron pulled you into a tight embrace, his lips meeting yours in a passionate and loving kiss. The world around you faded away, and all that mattered was the promise of a future together, as partners in both love and life.

“Did you guys really think we didn’t know you two were together all this time?” Rossi questioned, a playful glint in his eyes as the team sat together on the jet, heading home after a successful case. “We aren’t profilers for nothing.”

Aaron rolled his eyes, trying to focus on the paperwork spread out on the table. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the lighthearted teasing. Finally feeling content in your life, you leaned back in your seat, feeling the warmth of Aaron’s presence beside you.

“It’s true.” Spencer chimed in with a smile. “We always knew you two were dating, but we didn’t say anything because you thought we didn’t know. It’s pretty funny, considering all the looks you give each other when–”

“Reid.” Aaron interrupted, cutting off the young genius before he could go further. The team stifled a laugh as Spencer mumbled out a quick “Sorry,” a sheepish smile on his face, and returned to his book.

JJ grinned mischievously. “Oh, come on, Hotch. We’ve seen the way you look at Y/N, and the way Y/N looks back.”

Elle nodded, adding her own insight. “Yeah, it was kind of adorable watching you two try to keep it a secret.”

You exchanged a knowing glance with Aaron, feeling a mix of amusement and affection. “Well, I guess we weren’t as subtle as we thought.” You admitted, a smile tugging at your lips.

His lips threatened to curl up into a smile, and you noticed it, playfully bumping your shoulders against his. He tried to maintain his composure, looking away and focusing his attention back on the paperwork, but his mind seemed to betray him as a soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

You couldn’t help but feel a surge of happiness at seeing that smile, knowing that you were the one who could bring it out in him. He was the tough and stoic leader to everyone else, but with you, he allowed himself to be vulnerable and open.

The rest of the team had amused grins on their faces, watching the two of you with knowing looks. Their usual boss, who rarely showed any emotion, appeared so content and happy whenever you were around. It was a sight they cherished, seeing the man they respected and admired, smile genuinely because of you.

As the night grew on, everyone on the jet was asleep, but you and Aaron were still awake. You laid your head on Aaron’s shoulder, your hand clasped with one of his, as he continued looking through the paperwork. It was a habit for him to bury himself in work, even during quiet moments like this.

You gently nudged the papers away, and he raised an eyebrow at you. “Stop, you need to sleep.”

“You need to sleep, too.” He whispered, his lips pressing against the top of your head in a tender gesture.

You sighed softly, giving him a determined look. “Okay, but you have to stop this. You can look at these when we get back, but for now, you need rest.”

A playful grin spread across his face, and he leaned forward to capture your lips in a sweet kiss. “Anything for you.”

You gladly kissed him back, feeling a rush of warmth and love for this man. His dedication to his job and his team was commendable, but you also wanted him to take care of himself. He deserved rest and peace, especially after the intense case and the events of the day.

You settled into a comfortable position, still holding each other’s hands, and let the gentle hum of the jet lull you both to sleep. In each other’s arms, you felt a sense of comfort that reassured you, everything had a way of falling into place as it was meant to be.

[yaralulu]

I’ve seen a few people confused on if Feyre really manipulated Tamlin and Lucien into distrusting each other by alluding to some kind of affair between her and Lucien so let’s talk about it.

It’s important to note that Tamlin and Lucien’s relationship was already rocky at this point so it wasn’t that hard for Feyre to cause tension and distrust between them.But still she caused some irreparable damage to their friendship that wouldn’t have happened if it wasn’t for her manipulations.

Feyre was intentionally being more handsy and close to Lucien because she wanted to stir up distrust and suspicion not just between Tamlin and Lucien,but amongst the Spring Court.By alluding to an affair between the High Lord’s emissary and his consort,the very foundations of the court started to crack.Also Tamlin without Lucien by his side is just a recipe for disaster and Feyre knew that.

Feyre wanted other people to notice her and Lucien being close.She knew their newfound coziness would be reported back to Tamlin,planting seeds of doubt in his mind.

It was my first time on a horse in months, and I was stiff enough that I could barely move as the party dismounted. I gave Lucien a subtle, pleading look, and he barely hid his smirk as he sauntered over to me.Our dispersing party watched as he braced my waist in his broad hands and easily hefted me off the horse, none more closely than lanthe.

I'd rolled onto Lucien's bedroll at some point, any schemes indeed second to my most pressing demand—warmth. But I had no doubt Jurian would tuck away the information to throw in Tamlin's face when we returned: we'd shared a tent, and had been very cozy upon awakening.

But it was Jurian right on their heels, as if he'd been divulging the details of his surveying who smiled at the sight of us, knee to knee and nearly nose to nose."Careful, Lucien," the warrior sneered. "You see what happens to males who touch the HighLord's belongings."

So even when Tamlin wasn’t around Feyre was continuing this act because she wanted everyone to start thinking something was happening between her and Lucien.And her efforts were not in vain.Her plan worked..a little too well even.

"You don't act that way with Feyre." A silk-wrapped threat. "You're mistaken.” "Am I?" Twigs and leaves crunched, as if she was circling him. "You put your hands all over her." I had done my job too well, provoked her jealousy too much with every instance I'd found ways to get Lucien to touch me in her presence, in Tamlin's presence.

Then we have the infamous nightmare scene.The whole thing was a set up so that Tamlin would catch his bestfriend and Feyre in a compromising position after he’d probably already heard rumors about them.She wanted Tamlin to start questioning Lucien and his intentions.

I had no doubt Tamlin was now running through every look and conversation since then. Every time Lucien had intervened on my behalf, both Under the Mountain and afterward. Weighing how much that new mating bond with Elain held sway over his friend.

By planting doubt and suspicion in Tamlin’s mind,Feyre’s schemes worked and Tamlin and Lucien’s friendship suffered.

Tamlin and Lucien, it seemed, had spoken before the meal, but the latter made a point to keep a healthy distance from me. To not look at or speak to me, as if still needing to convince Tamlin of our innocence.

I hauled myself into the canvas tent when the fire was dying out, the space barely big enough for Lucien and me to sleep shoulder to shoulder. "Maybe I should sleep out there." I rolled my eyes. "Please."A wary, considering glance as he knelt and removed his boots. "You know Tamlin can be ...sensitive about things."

So yeah everything Feyre did was intentional and with purpose.She used Lucien to make Tamlin jealous therefore condemning their friendship.She roped him into her schemes which ended up having detrimental effects not just on his relationship with Tamlin but on his entire reputation in Spring.And sure Tamlin and Lucien’s friendship was already not the greatest but Feyre made things exponentially so much worse.

[shizuturnspages]

hiii i absolutely love ur works!! do u write headcannons for anime characters as well? if yes, could i request a scenario where the darling is dating yandere gojo's bsf?

Yesss I do write anime headcannons. I haven't written any since I haven't received any requests till now. I hope this is to your liking.

Yandere Gojo's Feelings Towards You, Dating His Best Friend

Gojo doesn’t understand why you’d choose Suguru over him. He’s Satoru Gojo—the strongest, the smartest, the most charming. In his mind, the two of you were already written in the stars, so why are you walking hand-in-hand with Suguru like he’s the better choice?

“Hah, so that’s how it is? You really think he’s better than me? Me? That’s cute. Real cute. But let me remind you of one thing: I always win in the end.”

The Jealousy Burns Bright

At first, Gojo plays it off as no big deal. After all, he’s Gojo Satoru—he can get whatever he wants, right? But the second he sees you smiling at Geto, holding hands, or even sitting close to him, something dark stirs inside him.

Hidden Bitterness: Gojo may laugh it off in public, teasing Geto or throwing out playful jabs about how “lucky” he is, but deep down, he’s seething.

“Suguru, I didn’t know you were into stealing what’s mine. Cute.” He says it with a grin, but his tone has an unmistakable edge.

Comparisons Galore: He starts obsessing over what Geto has that he doesn’t. Is it his calm demeanour? His grounded personality? The way he always seems to know the right thing to say? Gojo can’t stand it. “I’m funnier, smarter, stronger. Why him? Why not me?”

Betrayal Cuts Deep

Gojo prides himself on his bond with Geto—it’s not just friendship; it’s a partnership, a brotherhood. But now, that bond feels like a knife in his back.

Resentment Toward Geto: He feels betrayed by Geto for "stealing" you from him. While he may not lash out directly (yet), his words grow sharper.

“You really think you can make them happy? I don’t see it.”

Guilt and Denial: A small part of Gojo blames himself. Maybe he didn’t make his feelings clear enough. Maybe he was too slow to act. But he quickly buries these thoughts beneath layers of denial.

Possessiveness Intensifies

Seeing you with Geto only amplifies Gojo’s obsessive tendencies. He can’t stand the idea of someone else—even Geto—having your attention, your love, your everything.

Inserting Himself: Gojo finds every excuse to be around you both. Training sessions, group missions, “accidental” run-ins—it’s all orchestrated. He makes sure you never forget he’s there.

“Oh, what’s this? A date? Mind if I join? No? Too bad.” He plops himself between you two without a care.

Subtle Undermining: Gojo starts planting doubts in your mind about Geto. “Suguru’s great, but don’t you think he’s a little… serious? Wouldn’t you rather be with someone who makes you laugh?”

The Breaking Point

Gojo’s facade of playful indifference doesn’t last forever. Sooner or later, he snaps—and when he does, it’s explosive.

Confronting Geto: Gojo corners Geto, his usual light-hearted tone replaced with something cold and dangerous.

“You know how I feel about them, Suguru. You knew, and you still went for them.” His grin is gone, replaced with a piercing glare.

Claiming You: Gojo starts to show his true colours, letting his yandere tendencies spill over. He doesn’t care if he’s being unreasonable—he’s not going to lose you to anyone.

“You’ll see eventually. I’m the only one who can protect you, make you happy. Suguru? He’s just… temporary. You don’t belong with him. You belong with me. I can give you everything he can’t.”

[t-the-ring-master]

Platonic Fink headcannons!

I’m assuming just with the characters(Roz and brightbill) but if you wanted an x animal reader or something or even human wild robot, feel free to request it!

Request: @itsscromp

Requests: open

Asks: open

If anyone wishes to be tagged in future stuff regarding the wild robot, please comment or send a request through asks!

Taglist: @the-lavender-clown @cs-cabin-and-crew

❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦

Fink definitely had to be the one to handle nightmares with Brightbill. Telling the duckling stories, and even having to make up a song or two to calm the little thing down. And due to Roz always having to shut off during the night to conserve power, she wouldn’t be much help…. Fink definitely had to let Brightbill sleep on his bed a couple times.

He wasn’t fond of the arrangement of him having to help parent Brightbill. Originally it was simply to get things from Roz due to her naïveness. But he did eventually warm up to the idea, since it’s obvious he didn’t get to experience actual family or parental love. He definitely subconsciously tried to parent Brightbill in ways he wish he had growing up.

Protective. You saw how he tried to attack the other geese when they were bullying Brightbill. He was ready to feast.

He’s the type to act like it’s a huge deal or a big favor when he does something for someone. He wants compliments and praise. I can definitely see him getting flustered the first time Roz complimented him genuinely for whatever reason. He was not prepared for the “you are very smart” comment. Bro malfunctioned.

Fink: what is this?

Baby Brightbill wanting a hug: affection.

Fink: disgusting!….. do it again.

Cried when Roz had to leave. He was sad to see his first real friend leave so suddenly (wasn’t really sudden, but he felt like it was) I can definitely see him not wanting to leave the home she built for Brightbill, herself and of course Fink. He didn’t allow anyone to mess with the pictures.

I don’t know why… but this dude definitely got a fear of woodpeckers. I don’t know why I see that, but I do for some reason. Maybe he was attacked as a pup?… mini fic idea?

Back to the platonic relationships 🤣

Always gets excited whenever Brightbill comes back after winter. Is so happy to see his son. The other geese got used to him bolting to Brightbill.

Has in fact threatened to eat a few other animals that insulted Brightbill when he was still a duckling. He didn’t wanna admit it (he can now but at the time, heck no) but he had gotten attached to the duckling and got over protective. He mellowed out when Brightbill got older though. The over protectiveness just passed to Roz.

Has definitely had to babysit for Pink tail a couple times. He likes the kids now but he did almost eat stinky once or twice.

Once had to attack another fox when it tried to attack Brightbill. Got a scar from it too. Roz managed to fix him up, but it took a bit for Fink and Roz to get a crying Brightbill to calm down.

Always has a pinecone on hand (on paw?) to throw at the squirrels. Only he is allowed to laugh at Brightbill face planting when he fails a lift off.

Got excited when Roz returned. Was nervous she wouldn’t remember him, but he’d rather have to reintroduce himself than not be her friend again.

I feel like Fink didn’t have siblings, and if he did they passed away. So I feel like when Brightbill was little and wanted to play, he’d always agree (although he’d act like it’s a huge hassle. In reality he was happy to finally experience playing.)

It’s obvious that Fink didn’t have a relationship (at least not a good one) with his mother. So when Roz started to doubt herself, I can definitely see him telling her -in his own way- that she is a way better mother than she thinks. Pink tail also had to join in on it since Fink has a pretty rude way of giving pep talks.

Pink tail and him definitely gossip about the kids.

Pink tail: so you’re telling me Brightbill tried to eat a caterpillar?

Fink: not tried, did. He had an upset stomach for days! The kid got so clingy I could even be in my den away from him!

Pink tail: yeah my last litter did that… Jeremy didn’t even last spring.

Fink knows about all of the ways Pink tail other kids from past litters died. Was very concerned on how unbothered she was. (Lowkey gets it though)

Final headcannons! Rapid fire!

Definitely has given Brightbill something that tasted gross (like how parents give their baby lemon to see their reaction)

He’s probably taken one of Brightbill’s baby photos to put in his den for the winter.

Attacked the fish that attacked Brightbill. Bro wanted revenge.

Hates lemon grass. He just doesn’t like it.

He hates squirrels and they hate him.

Definitely has pulled the “where is he?” Thing when Brightbill was right next to him (pretended Brightbill was invisible to mess with him) yeah Brightbill cried…. He let him sleep in his bed with him that night. He felt a little bad.

[lightandfellowship]

When the Master of Masters told Xehanort that “Human emotions are complex. For example, what you feel toward someone you love isn’t always good or well-meaning. It can be a false kind of light. Which begs the question: are these messy feelings that emerge from love still light? Or are they darkness?”, and then Xehanort responds with “Whoa, where did that come from?” I think the MoM was perhaps talking about Eraqus here in an effort to manipulate Xehanort. (Perhaps an obvious observation to make, but I have stuff to say about it.)

The MoM almost NEVER volunteers information about himself (unless he's talking to Luxu), and he’s way too much of a smooth talker to ever do it on accident either, so I don’t think he was referring to some event of his past or speaking from personal experience here. And since the MoM is a master manipulator who effortlessly turns people’s confidence and comraderie into insecurity and distrust, this means that the “example” he provided here was likely very specific, very targeted, and very intentional.

Think about the scene where Eraqus tells Xehanort that his dream is to be a beacon of light that can lead people out of the darkness, and then proceeds to use Xehanort as an example of someone who might need saving one day. Think about how Xehanort responds positively to this, saying it’s the perfect dream for Eraqus and then thanking Eraqus for always being there for him. For someone who’s supposed to one day dive into the darkness on purpose, he seems perfectly content with the idea of his friend coming to his rescue and pulling him out of it. So what happened? What changed Xehanort’s mind?

(Keep in mind that this scene takes place in Xehanort and Eraqus' classroom where No Name is hanging on the wall. The Gazing Eye would have witnessed this conversation, and thus the MoM likely knows how much of a threat Eraqus is.)

If the MoM’s goal is to ensure that Xehanort sticks to his “dark road” no matter what, then extinguishing the light that threatens to guide Xehanort off of that path would be essential to his plan. And his first step in doing that would be to sow seeds of doubt in Xehanort’s heart about Eraqus’ true intentions by subtly manipulating Xehanort’s worldview, using what Xehanort witnessed between Hoder and Baldr as the soil. Small, little doubts that would lie dormant in Xehanort’s heart until nourished by some major event.

Doubts like: maybe your friend’s love for you isn’t pure. Maybe it’s tainted by some dark emotion. Maybe you can’t trust him. Maybe he’ll never understand you. Maybe he’s destined to stand in your way. Maybe he never wanted what was best for you. Maybe he has some ulterior motive for being your friend. Maybe he’s deluded himself into thinking he’s a good person. Maybe he would grow to hate you if he knew of the darkness in your heart. Maybe he’s only holding you back. Maybe you should leave him behind. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing if you took his life one day.

Think about the conclusion Xehanort arrived at after his "world tour". "[People] believe themselves to be moral and virtuous, but it's all an act. Darkness lurks in the pit of everyone's heart. Their light is a total farce."

Seven years after the events of the game and five years after Eraqus and Xehanort’s discussion about their dreams, the two turn their Keyblades on each other for the first time, and Xehanort asks “Do you stand in my way as a true Keyblade Master?” to which Eraqus corrects him “No. As a true friend.” Despite Eraqus doing exactly what he said he was going to do all those years ago (become a beacon to lead Xehanort out of the darkness), Xehanort fails to recognize Eraqus’ opposition as an act of love, almost as if he no longer believes that Eraqus is truly doing this for his sake—no, Eraqus is merely performing his duty as a Keyblade Master.

I imagine this clash is the moment when all of those doubts that the MoM planted in Xehanort’s heart begin to sprout, and over time will grow, and grow, and grow, until Eraqus’ light can no longer reach Xehanort’s heart through all the thorns.

“Are these messy feelings that emerge from love still light? Or are they darkness?” And if you think about it, Eraqus’ general mentality of “I’m the righteous one and I know what’s best for you and you shall conform to my beliefs or suffer the consequences” is a sort of twisted, not-pure-darkness-not-pure-light kind of love, isn’t it? A “false light”, like the MoM says. Someone so blinded by the light that he can’t see the shadows falling on his own heart.

One last thing, as well. Recall that Baldr tells Xehanort that when their lights (Hoder and Eraqus respectively) disappear, they lose their purpose and are swallowed by the void. So the game draws a direct correlation between Xehanort losing Eraqus and Xehanort falling to darkness. And sure, perhaps Eraqus never straight up dies like Hoder does, but Xehanort still lost Eraqus in a way, didn’t he?

(To clarify, this isn’t to say that Xehanort and Eraqus WOULDN’T have naturally drifted apart on their own if it weren’t for the MoM’s meddling, I’m just saying that if there WAS a chance that Eraqus could have prevented Xehanort’s fall to darkness, then the MoM made sure to stamp out that possibility ASAP before it had the opportunity to derail his plans.)

[hppymnday]

love languages with ed <3

aka I just ramble about him for a hot minute…

Words of Affirmation

At first, I don’t think words of affirmation are a very common occurrence in your relationship..

In his defense, they can feel very confrontational. Yes he tends to ramble when he gets excited but he’s also uttered very few (possibly zero) ‘I love you’s in his lifetime. Outside of his livestreams and videos on the news, he’s relatively quiet. He talks to you, of course, but complements?

He has the idea in his head, how perfect you look, how thankful he is to have you with him. Yet they all accumulate to nothing but him staring, mouth opening and closing as he attempts to find the right words. He just doesn’t know when to say them, how to formulate the right sentences as to not come on too strong..

If you were to somehow become the subject of one of his rants then I can definitely see him spilling his guts about you…

Another time I can see him is in bed (suggestively and not)- just the intimacy and overwhelming presence of you make him feel.. alive, happy.

As time goes by he’ll begin to turn off all those filters he puts his words through and just say what he’s thinking. Blunt, almost sudden appraisals of whatever you’re wearing or random comment on how he likes your laugh will slowly but surely sneak their way into conversations.

Quality Time

The easiest and most natural to him. I think it’s not only reassuring for him to have you near but also (exciting?) and different. He’s spent so much time alone that having another person willingly be in the same room with him is??? crazy?? There’s a certain joy he finds in being able to simply look up and see you.

You soothe him by being close, a calming presence, an unspoken promise to keep him grounded. Since nine times out of ten he’s at his workspace- I can definitely see him rearranging furniture for you to be comfortable but still near him or at least move a stack of papers to be able to see you from his workspace.

Physical Touch

Along with words of affirmation, this too will take some time for Ed to get used to. But I do think he would like small gestures of physical affection. Knees touching when sitting next to each other, hands purposefully brushing yours when he passes you something- things like that. He’ll stare at the spot where his body met yours, feel it buzz with the fading feeling of you.

He can’t help but shoot an arm out when the bus lurches forward- it was like instinct, he wanted to make sure you wouldn’t fall. It’s tricky since he often feels gross for touching you- and will scoot back when you try to touch him suddenly.. but like a plant with the sun, he can’t help but lean towards the warmth of you. Slowly but surely he’s grown reliant on your touch.

Acts of Service

(I know I keep saying how Edward is used to being by himself n all that but I feel like it’s important to stress that through you he’s learning how to love?? He knows he loves you but it’s the translation through these languages that’s so foreign to him…)

That being said- he is so attentive and thoughtful. Nervous in public? Since he’s so tall he can easily lead you through a crowd. Having a bad day? He isn’t the best at comforting others but he’ll stay with you and let you vent. I think this would also be a very meaningful way to his heart since he’s never had anyone take care of him (so please! spoil him! order food/cook for him! even the simple things like grabbing his mail or helping him out on his code he’ll love!!).

Yet (again) this is a double edged sword… he wants to be taken care of yet it would take a while for the voices of doubt and whispers of pity would go away whenever you try to help him. But eventually the two of you will find a nice balance for everything.. he can wash the dishes and you can dry them. :)

Gift Giving

Edward loves a good present (if his little paper trail for the Batman wasn’t evidence enough). The suspense and excitement of it all does make him sick from anxiety but it’s all worth it in the end. When he gets to see your radiant smile as you unbox something you’d casually mentioned you were looking for. He’s very particular and will not give you something unless it’s up to his standards.

Like he did with Batman- I could also see him writing cards or maybe letters along with anything he gets you. And although he’s always eager to see your reaction to his presents.. in the past he has hidden gifts around his apartment which you have had to answer riddles and solve puzzles for… there aren’t any life or death traps but don’t think he’ll go easy on you either (if he’s feeling nice he’ll allow you a hint though)!

This would be another meaningful love language for him to receive. To know you were listening?? and thinking of him?? next gift he’s getting you is gonna be a ring.

[dark-fics-4-you]

Desperate Measures ch. III

Warnings: noncon, smut, forced pregnancy, gaslighting, abusive relationship

Note: this chapter is kinda short, and it’s basically just smut so enjoy

Gazing up at the ceiling in a daze, you were brought back to the moment when Rafe snapped his fingers in front of your face.

“Still in there, princess?”

Your eyes blurred with more tears, a strange thing, you thought. You didn’t think you had any more energy to cry, but your body was proving you wrong once again.

You blinked the tears away before meeting Rafe’s gaze, you could barely hold your head up.

You flinched as he stretched his hand toward your face, brushing his fingers over the red, angry skin of your cheek where he struck you earlier. The tender gesture made you feel sick to your stomach.

“You know, this wouldn’t have to happen if you just listened to me, Y/N.” He mumbled and you whimpered when you felt him begin to slowly roll his hips against yours.

It had been hours of him rutting into you, tunnel vision so intense that by the fourth round when he pushed his cock into your sore cunt, you gave up on fighting back.

“Please no- Rafe-" your protests were swallowed when he covered your lips with his own. A hand tangled into your hair, tugging your head back to deepen the kiss.

You gasped against his mouth when he began to thrust into you faster, disgusted by the sound of his cum squelching inside of you and helping him push deeper into you.

His lips trailed from your mouth down to your neck, sucking at the tender skin. “Just imagine it, Y/N,” Rafe’s raspy voice could barely containing his excitement. “A bunch of little Camerons…”

Revulsion filled your gut and you blinked your teary eyes, lip trembling as you looked past Rafe.

You tensed when you felt his fingers find your tender clit, unable to hold back your mewl. Burning shame spread across your face when Rafe chuckled.

“Are you gonna try to tell me you don’t want this again? After I’ve made you cum over and over again tonight, hmm?” The condescending bite to his voice pierced through you, doubt beginning to plant itself in your mind.

“Rafe, I don’t- I’m-!” Before you could finish the thought, his hand gripped your throat, cutting off your oxygen supply and shutting you up.

The feeling of him inside you, thrusting at a dizzying tempo had your legs shaking around him. Another twitch of his fingers at your clit and your vision went dark, stars exploding behind your eyes as you squeezed around him. You could feel his fingers closing further around your throat as he fucked you through your orgasm.

“That’s right babygirl, milk my cock,” Rafe taunted as he loomed over you. “So fucking tight when you’re all fucked out and used.”

You choked as his grip around your throat tightened and you looked up at him, panicked, with fearful eyes while your fingers grasped at the ones around your neck desperately.

“It doesn’t have to be this hard, Y/N,” he scowled, “I had to go through a lot of trouble to get you back. Really, you should be fucking grateful that someone actually cares enough about you to want to give you a better life.”

Hurt and anger burned within you. Anger at yourself for sleeping with him the night of the party and rage at Rafe for everything he had done to you since.

And everything he was planning on forcing you to do.

Your chest was tightening from the lack of oxygen, vision growing blurry around the edges and you knew you had to do something to get his hands off your neck.

Rafe let out a frustrated grunt when he felt your nails begin to claw at his hands, scratching with so much fervor you accidentally dragged them against your own tender neck, gasping for breaths when he finally released you.

“Stupid bitch!” The blond roared, staring frantically at the blood you had drawn on his hands.

His nose wrinkled, eyebrows coming together as he sneered, shaking his head and laughing at you, “You really are only good for one thing.”

You tried to protest when Rafe flipped you over onto your knees, pushing deeper into you to make sure you couldn’t get away. Your tears ran down onto the hand he had clamped over your mouth to stop you from screaming.

His hips snapped against your ass as he fucked you harder, his cock dragging agonizingly against your walls.

“Just stay fucking quiet, be a good girl, and I might let you cum again.”

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Whumptober 2023

No. 22 Glass Shard

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Prison Era

Warnings: Injury, Blood

“Don’t take it out!” You swatted Daryl’s hands away from a large glass shard protruding from his right side. “You might bleed out. We don’t know if it hit anything vital.” He scowled at you and murmured something you couldn’t hear but dropped his hands to his sides. “Shouldn’t be picking fights.”

“Ain’t pickin’ no fights. We needed the meds n’ we got ‘em.” He snapped, walking toward the bike with his left hand below the injury. 

“Wait a minute! You can’t possibly think you’re driving us back like that!”

He looked at you like you’d sprouted another head. “Why wouldn’ I?”

Lord, give me patience. Don’t give me strength because I’ll kill him. You pinched the bridge of your nose. “You’ve been stabbed, Daryl. You’re bleeding. When someone bleeds a lot, they sometimes pass out. I’d rather not be behind you on a fricking motorcycle if that happens.”

Scowling again. Typical. “Ain’t gon’ pass out. Le’s go.”

You started to follow but decided against it. Appeasing his pride would get you both killed. Planting your feet, you crossed your arms. “No.”

Daryl had thrown his leg over and plopped heavily onto the seat, raising his brows at your brazen refusal. “Wha’?”

“You heard me. I said no.”

“Woman, don’ make me leave ya here.”

“You would never.” Your eyes narrowed in challenge, flickering down toward his boot when he toed up the kickstand. He really would never, right? When he started the engine, you really started to doubt but would not be swayed. He was already pale and sweaty, droplets of blood pooling behind his boot. With a deep breath, you squared your shoulders. Daryl cared about you. You had to believe that he wouldn’t leave you. 

He watched you with a stoic expression, only faltering once you stood straighter. He must look like shit if you wouldn’t trust him to get the both of you home. Lowering the kickstand, he shut off the bike. “Wha’s the plan?”

You blinked at him. 

“Ya let me start up the bike n’ make enough noise ta attract ev’ry walker in there n’ ya didn’t have a plan?” 

“Well I didn’t exactly think you’d try to bully me into letting you kill us, Daryl!” You dropped your arms and looked around while he muttered to himself. You spotted a pick up next to the gate. It must have belonged to the men that attacked you. The driver’s door was still open. Maybe they just happened to leave the keys and you wouldn’t need to hotwire the stupid thing. “Wha’re ya doin’ now?” The archer called after you when you sprinted toward the truck. 

You leaned inside with a spirited ‘yes!’ upon finding the keys in the ignition. Next up: fuel. “Please be enough. Please be enough.” You turned the key and watched the fuel gauge before leaning out. “Will just below half get us back?”

“Should.” He yelled back, getting off the bike. He stumbled but caught himself, leaving your heart hammering. You definitely couldn’t drag him to the passenger side, much less get him in there.

Climbing back out, you jogged over to help him. “Let’s get the bike in the back and I’ll drive, okay.”

Daryl only nodded. You pushed down your concern and opened the tailgate, helping him lift the bike into the back. Damn thing was fucking heavy but if you were hauling it, that was the only way to get it loaded. Panting, you closed it up just in time to see the man beside you sway on his feet. 

“Whoa!” Small hands grabbed his shoulders to steady him. “You okay? You’re looking a little pekid.” He was panting just as hard as you were, which wasn’t a shocker since the two of you just bench pressed a 400 pound bike into the back of a pickup. Probably not the best idea when one of you has a large piece of glass playing poke-the-vital-organ. 

He lifted his hands to gently grab your wrists, lowering your arms from his shoulders. “M’fine. Le’s jus’ get outta ‘ere. We got company.” A nod toward the area behind you had you turn toward the group of walkers approaching. 

“Okay, hop in.” You walked around him but slowed your steps to make sure he made it all the way to the passenger door. Sure, he was using the truck to steady himself the entire way but he finally climbed inside. You quickly slid behind the wheel and started up the engine. Once you pulled out onto the road, a little of the anxiety churning inside your chest dissipated. “We’ll get back just after dark, I think. Get Hershel to take a look at you.”

When he no more than hummed in reply, you glanced over at him. His head was against the window, eyes closed, lips parted to release shallow pants of breath. His skin glistened with sweat while holding a sickly pallor in stark contrast to the dark circles around his eyes. You would bet anything that if you touched his skin, it would be cold.

“Daryl? Daryl, your wound. How’s your wound?” You asked frantically, trying to split your attention between him and the road. 

“S’fine, Y/N. Jus’ drive.” 

“Let me see.” You requested softly, still trying to stay on course. 

“Drive. M’fine.” Daryl replied. He hadn’t opened his eyes at all. 

Mindful that neither of you were wearing seatbelts, you slowed to a stop and turned in the seat, grabbing at him to turn where you could see. He was slow to open his eyes. 

“Knock it off. Why we stopped?” The shove he gave you was gentle but enough to put some space between you. He didn’t expect you to come right back, this time to roughly grab his vest and pull him down across the seat. 

“You pulled it out?!” You yelled, pressing your hand over the steadily bleeding wound. His blood coated the interior of the door, the seat, and had puddled on the floor. “I said not to take it out, Daryl!”

“Didn’.” He replied quietly, sounding more than tired. “Got…got pulled out loadin’ the bike.”

You gaped at him. “And you didn’t think to say something?”

“Didn’ wanna worry ya. ‘Sides, m’fine.” His eyes slowly closed. “Doc’ll fix…me…righ’…”

“Daryl?” You kept one hand on the wound and used the other to shake him. “Daryl?! Goddamnit!” Peeling off your flannel overshirt, you folded it and pressed it against the injury, laying his arm over it to hold it in place. You climbed back behind the wheel, glad to have him lying across the seat so you could check his pulse while you hauled ass back to the prison. 

You found yourself carding your fingers through his hair, stroking his jaw, feeling his pulse, anything that let you know he was right there. His skin was so cold, his breaths so shallow that you could hardly feel the exhale at all. 

When the prison was within sight, you almost didn’t even stop to let them open the gates. 

Carol found you pacing outside by the picnic benches three hours after you had returned with Daryl. Three hours after you had leapt from the cab of the truck screaming for help. Three hours after you had collapsed to your knees watching Rick and Glenn carry Daryl inside. Three hours after you couldn’t find a pulse.

“He’s alive, Y/N.” The woman said softly. She sat down on top of one of the tables and watched you. You were thankful she had led with that but still couldn’t bring yourself to stop wearing a hole into the concrete. 

“But?” You weren’t naive. There was something more if she wanted to give you the good news first. Wanted you calmer. A very Carol tactic. You loved her for it but couldn’t entertain it. Not now. 

Carol could sense that. “Whatever he was stabbed with nicked his liver. Hershel was able to repair it but there was some internal bleeding. Hey,” she reached out to grab your hand. “He lost a lot of blood so he’s not out of the woods yet but he’s tough.”

“That’s the problem, though, isn’t it?” You laughed wryly. “Everyone thinks he’s invincible, so he feels like he has to be. He didn’t even tell me that he was bleeding out, Carol. He was just gonna sit there and…and…”

“Okay, okay, come here.” Carol pulled you to sit next to her, hugging you tightly. “You’re right. We need to make sure he knows that it’s okay to need help.” Pulling you back by your shoulders, she swept your hair out of your face. “And when he is better, we’ll get to work on that, okay?” You nodded, allowing her to wipe away your tears. “He’ll be okay.”

You sniffled and nodded again, more softly than the first time. “Can I see him?”

Daryl made it through the night. Hershel had said his chances of a full recovery only increased after that. You hadn’t slept much, but couldn’t bring yourself to close your eyes just yet. So you just sat in a chair by the bunk with your head lying on the mattress by his hand. Your own hand looked so small wrapped around his, your skin so much paler than his tan. You counted any freckles you found on his arm. You even cleaned from underneath his nails. 

Carol eventually came by with two bowls of oatmeal. You thanked her quietly while never raising from your spot. True to form, she came over and kissed the top of your head, giving your shoulder a squeeze. Her dainty hand then on Daryl’s bicep, gently rubbing up to his shoulder and back down before she walked out of the cell. 

Eventually, exhaustion won out. When you opened your eyes again, it was dark inside the cell. An almost burned out candle filled the room with dancing shadows but it was the eyes that reflected the flame that had your attention. 

“Daryl!” You leaned closer, touching his face, his neck, anywhere you could while his eyes followed you. “I’m so glad you’re awake. How are you feeling?”

“Tired.” His voice was rough from sleep and lack of use. He coughed weakly, face scrunching in pain before smoothing out again. “Thirsty.”

“Be right back.” You jogged from the cell to fetch some water and to let Hershel know Daryl had finally awoke. The veterinarian came not long after you had finished settling Daryl against the pillows once he had taken a few sips. 

“Blood pressure is a little lower than I’d like but that’s likely from the blood loss. Everything else looks real good, son.” He patted Daryl’s leg before standing with his crutches. “I’m sure you know you’re benched for a while though.”

“Yeah, figured.” Daryl shrugged a shoulder. He looked as though he could fall back asleep at any given moment. 

“Alright. I’ll check in tomorrow morning. Get some rest.” The older man stopped beside you and added “the both of you.” You gave him a nod and wished him goodnight. 

“Ya okay?” Daryl asked before you could even sit back down. You chose to sit on the edge of the mattress instead of the chair. 

“I’m fine now that I know you’re okay. You scared the hell out of me.”

“I know. M’sorry.” He answered quietly, his gaze falling away from yours. He knew exactly what you weren’t saying. “You should have told me.” 

“Hey.” You reached up to brush his hair away from his face, smiling and letting your hand come to rest on his cheek. “Don’t worry. We will be talking about this but I won’t yell at you until you feel better.”

“S’real comfortin’, Y/N.” His smirk was half-assed at best, either from fatigue or guilt. 

“I know. I have a great bedside manner.” You beamed. Getting to your feet, you moved closer to his own and crawled onto the bed and across his legs to his left side. He turned his head to watch you, each blink lasting longer than the one before it. 

“Guess it ain’t half bad.”

“Oh come on, it’s phenomenal. What other caregiver’s gonna crawl in bed with you and snuggle?”

“Hope ta hell Hershel don’ take notes from ya.”

“He had a hard time with the missing foot but you two looked super cozy when my shift began.” You snorted when he shrugged the shoulder you had cuddled against, jarring you back a little. 

“I can’ stand ya sometimes.”

“Pft, you love me.” You nuzzled your nose against his cheek before kissing it. He huffed a tired laugh and let his eyes drift shut. 

“Eh, I migh’.”

“Wait, what?” You blinked. “You might what? Daryl?” The only replies were his deep, even breaths. You laid your head back against his shoulder and watched him, biting back a wide smile. Now you had even more to talk about. 

[inquisimer]

i carried my own ashes to the mountains

for day 1 of @zevraholics' Zevwarden week 2023, tradition and trying new things - some pre-ship Nika and Zevran, a discussion of what will come of her return to Orzammar.

pairing: f!Brosca & Zevran word count: 1200 rating: general audiences tags: hurt/comfort, platonic relationships, fluff, a hint of pining if you squint

Nika stared at her reflection, warped and hazy in the frozen puddle outside their camp. A few hundred yards back through the trees their tents formed a half-circle around the fire. Beyond that loomed the peaks of the Frostback Mountains and within them, the gates to Orzammar.

Orzammar. Nearly three years gone since she’d left and going back now felt as intimidating as leaving with Duncan had then. Her fingertips traced over the faded brand on her cheek, newly bisected by a long, fresh scar. One of three—souvenirs from their battle with the dragon in Haven. Between that, and the weight on her shoulders, and the harsh cynicism regret had etched into her, she wondered if anyone in Orzammar would recognize the rebellious little casteless who dared defy their laws.

Part of her hoped they wouldn’t. Then she wouldn’t be alone in seeing a stranger in her face.

“Reminiscing, chapparita?”

A twig snapped under Zevran’s weight and Nika’s hand fell from her cheek as she glanced at him over her shoulder. She shrugged.

“Something like that, I suppose.”

Zevran hummed his doubt. Of all her companions, he would know. When they stumbled across his ill-conceived trap, she was still fresh-faced and sun-blind, lost without the cavernous Stone to ground her. She'd nearly shanked him in her anger. But his eyes shone with the wild desperation of someone who had absolutely nothing left to lose—he would have welcomed her blade, and it was a look so familiar that to see it in another shocked the rage right out of her.

He repaid her mercy with a curious devotion, sitting up with her through the coldest, darkest watches and fording paths when their inane quests took them through wilderness where even the smallest plants stood well above Nika's head. Bit by bit, he came to know her history, wheedling it out of her as none of the others had even tried to.

Things weren’t so different between the Carta and the Crows. Antiva's operation was larger and more storied, of course, but both were ruthless and cutthroat to a fault and you were only worth as much as the success of your last job. Nika didn't know many assassins, but she knew how they worked, and nothing builds trust like a mutually assured dagger in the back.

Zevran leaned against a tree and regarded her with a knowing look.

"You are apprehensive about returning to Orzammar."

"Am not."

He huffed, an aborted laugh that fogged the air around his mouth. "Dear Warden, there are at least seven paths that could have gotten us here sooner. And don't tell me you don't know of them," he added, for she'd opened her mouth to do exactly that. "I showed you how to read the map myself."

She rolled her eyes. "And?"

"And I think you should know that you do not need to run off into the woods with your woes." Zevran squatted at her side and tilted her face toward him with a knuckle on her chin. "You do not need to hide from me, chapparita. Not after everything."

"I know it's just..." Nika pursed her lips. "It's stupid. I just need a few moments to get it together."

"If it causes you distress, it cannot possibly be stupid."

"Yes it can," Nika grumped. "I get distressed by stupid things all the time. Rain and wagons. Broken lockpicks. Alistair."

"While amusing, this deflection won't save you." Zevran caught one of her hands and traced the calloused lines of her palm. "What troubles you so about returning home?"

"Home?" Nika scoffed. "Hardly a home. A place of origin, perhaps. But there was too much anger and never enough food to really call it a home."

"But you have family there, yes? Your sister and the young man...Lester?"

Nika's gut twisted. "Leske. And Rica, yes, they're still there. Or at least, I think they are. Some of the rumors coming up from Orzammar make me think there may well be nothing but carnage when we get there."

"Is that what troubles you, then?"

"Mmm not really. The city can tear itself to shreds for all I care, 'slong as Rica and Leske got out."

"Not worried about the city, not really worried about your family." Zevran tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Your reception upon return, then?"

Nika scrunched up her face. She really was quite transparent these days—if Behraht had been able to read her that well, she'd've never been allowed in the Carta, no matter how well Rica cleaned up. She glanced down at her griffon-stamped chestplate and sighed.

"I'm not the same person who left Dust Town," she finally said. "You know—you were there for most of the changing, the struggling, the growing."

"Not too much growing," Zevran teased, waving his hand over her head. She swatted at it and stuck her tongue out at him.

"The thing is, the time and the experience and even being a Warden—it won't matter to the people down there. You can't change your lot in life in Orzammar, so..."

She brought her fingers back to her marked cheek and Zevran’s gaze followed. "Once a brand, always a brand," she said bitterly. "I'm not even sure they'll listen to the treaties, not if I'm the one asking."

In the silence that followed, Nika stewed. She could feel Zevran considering her, but she didn’t want his comfort or his pity. Not when she had to walk back on the way the surface had changed her perspective. Not when she needed to be as cold and cruel as she’d ever been, to survive a return to Orzammar.

Gentle fingers caught her chin once more and this time the pad of Zevran’s thumb ghosted over the raised skin of her brand.

“They know you by this, as you were. But that is not who you are any longer so: have you considered…changing it?”

“How can I? It’s as much a part of me as my nose.”

“You misunderstand. I am not suggesting you attempt to remove it, anymore than I would suggest expunging your history before the Wardens.” Zevran dropped his hand to her shoulder and gently squeezed. “But the rest of you has changed on this venture. Should your face not change as well?”

Nika went very still. Her eyes darted back to the frozen puddle and the stranger reflected there. She imagined dark ink spiraling out around the blocky lines of the brand, weaving in and around the scar tissue, softening the hard border of the burden she’d worn like a prize all her life, just as this journey had softened all of her sharp edges.

In her heart, the idea slotted into place, so right that it immediately drew her out of her anxious melancholy. With eager eyes, she grabbed Zevran by the wrists.

“Can we do it now? Right now?”

A soft, warm smile crinkled the corners of Zevran’s eyes, a hint of wistfulness keeping it from catching at his mouth proper. But it swiftly gave way to his usual grin and he lifted her small frame effortlessly, swinging her onto his back.

“Of course, chapparita. We can begin whenever you like.”

[madaras-sanctuary]

Madara’s Trauma and Self-Destructive Behavior: Why Does He Avoid Happiness?

Madara might look perfect on the outside, but inside, he’s trapped by deep wounds. And that’s exactly why he’s so unhappy.

Today, I want to dive into the reasons behind his unhappiness and what could potentially save him.

1. An Unrecognized Hero, Madara

Madara's misery started when he was just a kid. He threw everything on the line to save his friend, Kanata. Imagine this: a small boy drenched to the skin, covered in cuts and bruises, trying to fight off adults to save his friend. But what did Kanata say to him after all that effort?

He told Madara, “You didn’t save me for my sake, you did it for your own satisfaction.”

Can you imagine how painful that must’ve been?

Madara’s actions were genuine. He risked his life to save his friend, but his pure intentions were completely dismissed. If he was really just looking for self-satisfaction, why would he go through all that pain and suffering? Why would he put himself in such danger? You don't do that just to feel good about yourself. That’s not "satisfaction"—that’s a conviction to save a friend.

Madara was driven by a true sense of heroism, doing whatever it took to save a life. It’s clear to anyone that his intentions were genuine.

But Kanata’s words hurt him deeply.

Since then, Madara started doubting his beliefs and his sincerity.

2. Kanata’s Gaslighting: Shattering Madara’s Self-Esteem

Why did Kanata's words affect Madara so much? Because it was pure gaslighting. Gaslighting is when someone twists your thoughts and emotions, making you question yourself. Kanata didn’t just say, “You saved me”—he twisted it, making it seem like Madara was selfish.

This kind of gaslighting broke Madara’s self-confidence. He began questioning his motives: “Did I really save him for him? Or was it for me?” And from that moment on, he started second-guessing everything he did, wondering if his actions were ever really pure.

Even when Madara helps others with pure intentions, he can’t help but feel guilty. He starts confessing to people, saying he’s doing it for his own benefit, not because he wants to.

But come on, everyone expects a little something in return for their kindness. It’s human nature! Of course, you’d feel hurt if a friend didn’t even say “thanks” after you’ve helped them. But despite this normal human reaction, Madara constantly beats himself up, apologizing and explaining himself, trying to ease the guilt that shouldn’t even exist.

Kanata has been planting these seeds of doubt in Madara ever since they were kids. He’d say things like, “You’re not doing this for me, you’re doing it for yourself,” until Madara couldn’t even trust his own good intentions. Thanks to Kanata’s continuous gaslighting, Madara lost his confidence and belief in his own goodness.

3. Madara’s Heroism Was Always Genuine

So, why do I think Madara’s actions were always genuine? Well, one thing’s clear: Madara risked everything to save Kanata. He jumped in, knowing full well how dangerous it would be. His family didn’t even want him to get involved with someone like Kanata, but he still did it.

There was no one there to give Madara any kind of recognition or praise for saving his friend. There was no crowd to clap for him, no one to pat him on the back. If all he wanted was some feel-good moment, he wouldn’t have acted so desperately.

Madara’s family had a rigid structure, and yet he would sneak out at night to plant the flowers Kanata wanted to see. He went out of his way to help, hiding materials on his body just to get them past security. He was always going the extra mile for Kanata.

Madara’s heroism was pure. When his friend was in danger, he didn’t hesitate to jump in. At that moment, saving Kanata was all that mattered. Kanata’s comment about Madara acting out of selfishness only distorts what was clearly a selfless act.

And even now, after all the pain he’s been through, Madara keeps helping others. He takes on the hardest, most thankless jobs, sacrificing his own well-being to help those around him. You can’t do that if you’re not driven by real conviction. There’s no way someone who’s just looking for some superficial satisfaction would keep doing what Madara does.

Even his nickname, “Mama,” comes from him taking on the role no one else wanted. He said it himself:

"When we were kids, the boys didn’t want to play ‘Mama,’ so I stepped up and took on the role. That’s why they call me Mama."

4. Perfect on the Outside, But Still Deeply Wounded Inside

Madara is practically perfect. He can play the piano, the violin, he’s great at billiards, he can cook—there’s literally nothing he can’t do. He has it all: looks, talent, charisma. So why is he still so miserable?

Because he’s still trapped by his internal wounds. He does everything for others, but he can’t bring himself to believe he’s worthy of happiness.

He keeps thinking, “I’m not worth anything,” and “I don’t deserve happiness.”

When Madara was younger, he wanted to go see cherry blossoms with his family. For him, that represented an ideal, loving family. He longed for that kind of warmth and closeness. And in a way, the character Kohaku, with his pink hair like cherry blossoms, became a symbol of that dream.

At first, Madara didn’t want anything to do with Kohaku, but over time, he found peace in being with him. Kohaku probably felt the same way. But then, in true Madara fashion, he chose to walk away from that peace by pushing for Double Face to break up.

It’s just another example of how Madara’s self-destructive tendencies lead him to distance himself from happiness. And it all comes back to the fact that he can’t love himself. The root of it all is Kanata’s gaslighting, which has caused Madara to constantly question his worth. No matter how perfect he seems on the outside, internally, he’s still full of doubt and pain.

Even as a solo artist, he’s taken on socially important, but secretive or unwanted, roles. He’s doing the work no one else wants to do, and yet, no one praises or even acknowledges him for it. The lack of recognition eats away at his self-esteem, making him feel more and more worthless.

5. Madara’s Only Salvation: Anzu

Madara carries all this pain, and the only person who can save him now is Anzu. Recently, Madara has found a little bit of peace working alongside her. Even though he’s an idol, he’ll serve tea to guests or clean the office just to help her out. At first glance, it might seem like he’s sacrificing himself again, but I see it as him finding solace in being close to her. I think he’s slowly starting to heal through his relationship with Anzu.

If Anzu could tell Madara one day, “It wasn’t your fault,” or, “Kanata’s words were wrong, and I don’t agree with him,” then I think Madara could finally find the closure he needs. Kanata’s wounds run deep, so Madara needs someone who truly understands him to help him heal. And that person is Anzu.

Madara needs to learn how to love himself again. If Anzu could tell him, “You are worthy of love,” and help him heal his wounds, he would finally stop doubting himself and be able to find true happiness.

6. Why Madara Left Ryuseitai

Madara used to be the Purple Ranger of Ryuseitai. So why did he leave?

Madara is someone who truly wants to act on his idea of justice. But the hero image of Ryuseitai probably felt a little off to him.

Madara believes that a hero isn’t just a title or an image—it’s about taking action to protect and help others.

That’s why Ryuseitai’s hero concept might not have been a perfect fit for him. Ryuseitai is a cool, hero-themed group, and each member brings their own flavor to the hero image. But Madara likely felt that they were heading in a different direction from what he believed true justice should be.

For him, it wasn’t about wearing a cool hero costume or being seen as a hero by others. He wanted to do the difficult, thankless work that no one else was willing to take on. So, Madara left behind the glamorous “hero” image and chose to follow his own path of justice. His move to solo work was just another reflection of his commitment to his beliefs.

7. The Irony of Kanata Staying in Ryuseitai

The irony is that Kanata stayed in Ryuseitai. Outwardly, he’s maintaining the hero concept, but he hasn’t shown the same self-sacrificial actions that Madara has.

Madara, on the other hand, is willing to secretly deal with bad guys, or take on the risk of losing his idol career just to protect a small kid who nobody else cares about. It’s these hidden, difficult tasks that make Madara a true hero—not the flashy image of a hero, but someone who does the dirty work behind the scenes. Yet, despite his sacrifices, Kanata still misunderstands and criticizes him.

Kanata can’t even acknowledge Madara’s dedication. Maybe it’s because Kanata was treated like a god by his family, so he just assumed it was natural for Madara to do all these things for him. Whatever the reason, it’s incredibly frustrating to see Kanata continue to belittle Madara while Madara keeps suffering for the sake of others.

No wonder Madara’s little sister dislikes Kanata. Seeing Madara constantly put himself through hell, taking on all the pain and never protecting his own well-being, would frustrate anyone. His sister just wants Madara to stand up for himself, but he keeps hurting himself for the sake of others.

Even now, as Madara tries to live a righteous life, Kanata continues to look down on him, gaslighting him and twisting his good intentions. It’s hard to like Kanata when you look at how much damage he’s done to Madara.

[the-chosen-fanfiction]

Matthew | I Told You So | Romantic

Requested: Yes

Matthew proves wrong the doubtful Disciples when they question whether he indeed has a special someone back home.

With a tilted head, Matthew observes Thomas and Ramah across camp, narrowing his eyes in curiosity as one moves closer to the other, their gazes loving and affectionate. Something envious sparks within his gut, a feeling quite alien to Matthew, for he wishes he could be close to the one he holds dear to his heart. 

“You know that it is creepy to stare at people, but when you’re staring at two people who are very obviously in love with each other, it’s even more weird.” Simon Peter plants a hand on his hip as he catches Matthew’s current occupation after following the former tax-collector’s gaze, and Matthew sharply turns to the fisherman. 

“What?”

Simon chuffs. “You can’t just stare at people. And they are having a moment. I’m sure that you aren’t aware of these things, but when you find someone you love, you wouldn’t like being gawked at by some tax-collector.”

“Simon, stop picking on him.” Mary Magdalene interrupts their conversation, and Simon crosses his arms. 

“I’m just trying to teach him a life lesson. You’ll understand it in due time, Matthew, but I don’t expect you to know what it is like to have a special someone to make eyes at.”

Matthew shrugs and turns back to the clay writing tablet in his hands. “Actually, Simon, I do have a special someone back at home.” 

Simon’s eyes widen and Mary’s interest is piqued as well. Before Matthew can open his mouth to tell more, however, Simon whistles over his younger brother, who trots over to the others with a confused look on his face. 

“What’s happening?” Andrew asks.

Simon grins and nods at Matthew. “Our tax-collector here just claimed to have a special lady back in Capernaum. If that is the case, Matthew, we must know her as well! Come on, don’t be shy, tell who it is!”

Matthew, not really picking up the tone of Simon’s voice, who is still in doubt on the truthfulness of the tax-collector's words, finally opens up. “It’s (Y/n), the daughter of Jehoiakim.” 

Andrew lets out a sound of disbelief and Simon’s jaw falls open. “What, her? What does she have to do with a publicanus like you?” the curly-haired fisherman exclaims, “I always thought she was still a bachelorette.” His eyes suddenly shimmer a little disappointedly, “Well, if this is true, I’m glad that I haven’t made a fool out of myself by asking for her hand yet.”

“I don’t believe you.” Simon immediately retorts, “A lot of men have always been after her hand, why would she choose you of all people?”

Matthew blinks and fiddles with his handkerchief, formulating an answer. “W-Well, her parents and mine have arranged for us to be married ever since we were very young. We are just waiting for the right moment.”

Simon rolls his eyes and laughs, as if Matthew has just said something pretty funny, whilst Andrew looks rather defeated at the revelation. 

“Who is (Y/n)?” Mary pipes up, not familiar with the name. 

“(Y/n) is a woman in our village, neither of us knows her very well but we’ve seen her from time to time. I know that a few of our friends are interested in asking for her hand, so I’m curious to see how long Matthew can keep up his little joke.”

Matthew stands sharply and looks Simon straight in the eye, something he doesn’t often do, so it genuinely takes aback the son of Jonah. “I wouldn’t lie about such things, Simon.” he firmly states, “(Y/n) and I have been together for a long time.” 

“And everyone just failed to tell us? I don’t believe it.”

A tad nervously, Matthew lowers his gaze. “I think they kept it under wraps because of my occupation.”

“And (Y/n)’s parents still want to go through with it? My, they really have no spine, then!”

“Simon!” Mary snaps, “Stop being mean to him! Matthew, I would love to meet her one day.” She smiles at her abashed friend, “She sounds like she is a lovely person.”

Blushing slightly, Matthew nods at the thought of you. “She is, both inside and out.”

Andrew shakily exhales and runs a hand down his face. “I’m a fool. I’m such a fool, to think that I thought she was available!” Simon puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes it. 

“Don’t worry, little brother. We’ll be going to Capernaum next week, so we’ll be able to see for ourselves.”

Whilst the sons of Jonah leave both Matthew and Mary behind to process the revelation, Ramah walks up together with Philip and Tamar, who give strange looks to the distressed form of Andrew retreating. 

“What’s wrong with him?” Ramah queries. 

Mary smiles. “Well, Matthew just told us he has a girlfriend.”

“He has?” Ramah squeals excitedly whilst Philip’s eyes widen in surprise and Tamar lets out a noise, “That’s wonderful, Matthew! Tell us all about her!”

Smiling, a tad bashful under the several pairs of eyes on him, Matthew shrinks, a fluster on his cheeks. “Her name is (Y/n), and she is my betrothed. And she’s very beautiful.”

Ramah grins and gives a dreamy sigh. “That’s amazing to hear!”

Tamar gestures towards the two fishermen who are now sitting a little away, the younger of the two sulking. “That doesn’t explain Andrew’s sour face.”

Mary shrugs before explaining: “Ah, it turns out that it isn’t exactly well-known that Matthew and (Y/n) are getting married, so he has just found out that he must look for another marriage candidate.” 

Philip whistles through his teeth and grins. “Good for you, Matthew!” he tells his friend, wrapping an arm around him, “I didn’t know you would be getting married soon!”

Matthew hums and rubs his arm, picking at a loose thread on his tunic. “W-Well, we were still waiting for a good moment, because we had a few mishaps in our families, but she is still very adamant on marrying me, so I am very glad and grateful. She–She is one of the kindest people I’ve ever met, and I’m so lucky to have her.”

The three women let out sounds of delight in unison, which catches the attention of a few other Disciples around. 

It does not take long for the entire camp to hear that Matthew is engaged to a woman named (Y/n), and all of them find out that they’ll get a chance to meet her soon. 

Curious, none of the followers wants to let this opportunity pass up.

_ 

Your smile brightens every room, but your gleeful demeanour is not limited to indoor spaces only. Every merchant at the market knows your name and face, and you are known as the woman who brings a little bit of positivity to every dark day.

When the love of your life had accepted the position as publicanus to work for Rome, your doubts had only been brief. You had been certain that Matthew would one day turn around again, that he would realise who he truly is, and that nothing will ever deter you from marrying him. Although not everyone in your family agrees with your decision and his father had disowned him for some time, you had always believed in him and would determinedly fight for him.

Concluding a morning of browsing stalls and purchasing some necessities, your attention is drawn to the shop selling colourful flowers of all kinds. Deciding to treat yourself, you hoist your basket full of produce a little better around your arm before heading there.

“Shalom, (Y/n),” the woman behind the flower stand says whilst you let your eyes go over her wares, “It is good to see you again. How can I help you today?”

“Shalom, Peninah,” you greet her, tapping your chin in thought. “All of your flowers are blooming so beautifully today, I barely know what to choose!”

The woman smiles and gestures towards her brightest blossoms, shades of pink and purple and blue, and you follow her gesture. “Because it’s you, they can go for a discount.”

“Really?” you muse, “You’re the best, Peninah, thank you!”

She starts assembling a small bouquet whilst you rummage around your pouch of money to take out the amount of shekels she tells you to pay. 

Right when you put the money into her hand, a familiar voice calls out to you. 

“(Y/n)?”

You turn over your shoulder to see nobody less than Matthew, who is holding the strap of his bag, giving you an almost pleading look. The smile that breaks out over your face causes him to brightly blush and you nearly forget your flowers, quickly thanking the merchant before taking your bouquet and rushing towards your lover.

“Matthew!” 

Although you’d love nothing more than to jump into his arms, you wait for him to make the first move, knowing better than anyone else that he is not fond of unsolicited touches, no matter how close you are. To your relief, Matthew has missed you greatly and opens his arms immediately for you to fall into and you laugh softly, whispering his name once again, inhaling deeply to take in his scent.

“I’ve missed you so much!” you murmur. Matthew’s hands tighten on your waist and he buries his face into your neck, smiling against your cheek.

“I’ve missed you, too.” he tells you softly, “You have been on my mind a lot.”

“There is probably so much you can tell me!” you breathe, pulling away from the embrace so that you can look into the pair of dark eyes that you’ve seen in your dreams countless times in the past months of him being away. Matthew nods, flushing a bit as he realises how close he is standing to you out in public for all to see, and he steps back to create some chaste distance between you, but the warmth in his eyes remains. “How are you, my love?”

The nickname makes Matthew look away shyly and he smiles. “I’m good. I’ve been learning a lot recently. And how about you? How are things here? And how is your pottery business?”

Your delighted face falls and you sigh. “Bah, my business idea was no success. People didn’t buy my wares and I had to shut down within a week.” Fiddling with one of the flower petals, you exhale sadly. 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Matthew mutters, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder. His touch is rare and so, a smile forms on your features again. 

“It is alright,” you say, “I will find some new opportunities. But what have you been up to? Probably to a lot more than me, that’s for sure!”

Matthew shrugs and smiles a bit. “Yes, I have met a lot of different people. Actually… I’d love for you to meet some of them, if you want to, of course.”

Eagerly, you nod, beaming brightly. “Oh, that is just wonderful, Matthew!”

Hooking your hand into the crook of his arm, you let him lead you to the house where most of them have gathered – you recognise this part of town, but aren’t too familiar with it – and follow him inside the home of a few faces you do know, although you don’t know which names are connected to them apart from Andrew and Simon. Your entire body stiffens, for Matthew had sometimes told you stories about them, and how they didn’t seem to be too fond of your fiancé.

“Shalom everyone,” Matthew announces, “I… I would like you all to meet my intended, (Y/n).” 

You curtsy and smile a little as you let your eyes go through the room, met with a few kind expressions, some curious, some beaming, Andrew’s inexplicably crestfallen as he gives you a wry smile. “Shalom, it’s nice to see you all.” you greet them.

Two women immediately head your way to investigate whilst a few others trail behind. 

“It is so nice to finally meet you!” a woman wearing a pink veil breathes, “My name is Mary!”

“And I am Ramah.” adds the other young woman, who shakes your hand. 

You bow your head and smile at them. “Shalom shalom, Mary and Ramah. Thank you for taking care of my Matthew.”

“Of course!” Mary ensures you.

Ramah puts a hand on your arm. “We are so thrilled to meet his bride-to-be! He mentioned you to be beautiful and he was right! Oh, we just– We want to know so much, from how you met, what made you decide to marry him, when you are planning to do so, everything!”

Matthew flusters beside you and you giggle, squeezing his hand. “I will tell you in due time!” 

“(Y/n),” Matthew speaks up, “I want you to meet a few of my other friends!” He gestures to three men who approach with inquisitive looks on their faces. One of them smiles kindly and introduces himself as Philip. The other two are named Thaddeus and Nathanael, the latter who slowly nods at you. 

“Matthew was right when he said he was getting married to a very beautiful woman! He is a lucky man, ha!”

Matthew gives you an apologetic look whilst Thaddeus punches Nathanael’s shoulder. “So sorry about that, (Y/n), Nathanael doesn’t always have a filter.” Philip says. 

You shrug and smile. “Well, thank you regardless. If anyone is lucky, it’s me. Matthew and I go way back, so we are meant to be!”

Simon Peter lets out a sound across the room. “Lucky? Are you serious?” There is a dangerous annoying edge to his voice, which you don’t like one bit.

With an estranged knitting in your brow, you plant a hand on your hip. “What is that supposed to mean, Simon?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Simon huffs. “Well, that a tax-collector gets to marry a popular woman like yourself. You know you could have done better, right? My brother, for example, was looking to marry you as well.”

“Apparently, you’ve got a lot to learn.” you sigh. “To see past Matthews former occupation, for example.”

“She is right, you know.” 

A familiar voice cuts through the air and you immediately spin to the source thereof, coming face to face with the Rabbi who had called your beloved to follow Him standing on the threshold, and you let out a slightly nervous huff. “Shalom, Teacher.”

Jesus smiles and enters, approaching you. “Shalom, (Y/n). It is good to see you again, it has been a while.”

You gulp, nodding. “I… I wanted to thank you again for seeing in Matthew what I saw in him all these years ago.”

Chuckling, Jesus puts a hand on your shoulder and lets His gaze go to Eden. “Actually, you’re not the only person in this room who has that beautiful sentiment towards their partner. I know that the two of you love one another very much, so thank you for letting us bring him along in this ministry.”

With a soft smile, you nod. “Of course, Rabbi. What kind of lover would I be to let him pass up on this opportunity?”

Jesus grins and turns to Simon, then to Andrew. “I understand your confusion regarding Matthew’s betrothal, but he, too, needs someone to come home to.”

Andrew gives a sad sigh and tugs at a loose thread on his tunic. Simon doesn’t dare to look his Master in the eye. 

“There will be someone for you too one day, Andrew,” Jesus promises, “There are plenty of fish in the sea.”

The pun causes a few people in the room to laugh, including you. 

Jesus pats your shoulder and winks. “And don’t you worry, (Y/n). We will be returning to Capernaum every so often, and one day, Matthew will return home. You will have a role in all of this, too, but that is a conversation for another day.”

Fondly, you wrap your arm around Matthew’s waist, holding him close. 

“I know.” you whisper as he looks at you besottedly, smiling. “I can wait.”

Matthew squeezes you gently against him. 

Simon’s wife approaches you. “Shalom, (Y/n), my name is Eden. Since I’ve already got a few guests over for dinner, would you also like to stay?”

With a grateful beam, you hum in agreement. “I would appreciate that.” 

She gives you a nod as she returns to her cooking, and you’re ushered towards the dinner table, where everyone starts talking your ear off by asking about your life as well as your relationship with Matthew. Your fiancé sits beside you, his hip pressing into yours, and you keep your hand in his throughout the entire evening.

For a few days longer, you have your sweet betrothed close to you, holding onto the promise of Jesus that one day, you’ll have him at your side for longer, as well as the words that you will have a part in all of this, too.

[avaantares]

Guardian Bonus Bingo: Swelter

Sliding in under the wire for @guardianbingo prompt "swelter" (posted late because I was out of the country and my return flight got canceled, so I got home a day later than planned).

This is a scene for the ever-growing monolith Picture Imperfect, my Alternate First Meeting YOHE fic which has now snowballed to well into six figures 😅 because I absolutely can't keep a plot simple to save my word count. Although the story premise itself was inspired by a 2023 Guardian Bingo prompt, I've added more than 30 chapters and 100K words since writing the initial treatment, so I think it's fair to work new prompts into various additional chapters where appropriate. (I'm just trying to get a few more things cleaned up before I start posting regularly so I don't have to take long breaks between updates. It's really coming, I promise!)

In this story, ZYL falls into the past at a slightly different point, and though Fu You and Ma Gui trust him, Hei Pao Shi is convinced that "Kunlun" is an enemy spy (among other things). Despite his suspicions, the two are ordered to work together on a mission behind enemy lines. They are en route when this scene occurs.

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

Their journey continued uninterrupted—and largely unbroken by speech, though Zhao Yunlan made an effort every so often—until they came within view of a rutted wagon track the following afternoon. Hei Pao Shi glanced up and down the road, scanning for travelers, and seemed about to continue on their way when Zhao Yunlan called, “Hold up a minute.”

Hei Pao Shi glanced back to where he’d stopped, but said nothing.

Zhao Yunlan planted his hands on his hips and stretched his back, which ached as though an elephant had been sitting on it. “Look, I’m as athletic as the next guy, but we’ve been marching since daybreak, and I’m not used to going this many kilo—er, li on an empty stomach. Why don’t we stop for a minute and have something to eat and drink?” He pointed to a few stunted trees growing a short distance away. “There’s a little shade here, and from the look of the landscape up ahead, it’s going to be the last break from the sun we have for a while.”

Hei Pao Shi hesitated, but Zhao Yunlan knew he wouldn’t need to press hard to get his way. Hei Pao Shi had thrown his hood off long before the sun had reached its zenith, and Zhao Yunlan had glimpsed the sheen of sweat on the lower half of his face whenever they had been walking abreast. Although he had never broken pace, the layers of black leather and fabric had to be suffocating under the sun’s steady rays. Even Zhao Yunlan, who had so little body fat that he routinely layered long sleeves with vests or jackets to insulate himself from summer air conditioning, had shoved the fur collar into the top of his pack hours before and tugged the front of his robes open halfway to his navel. It might be slightly indecent for the times, but it wasn’t like there were any young ladies around to be scandalized. Just Shen Wei—and considering how often he’d helped Zhao Yunlan bathe and dress during his time of blindness, he hardly counted anymore.

Not that this Shen Wei had ever seen Zhao Yunlan without a shirt, but still. Communal bathing existed in this era, didn’t it? Though he doubted there were many public bathhouses operating in a society that had nearly been destroyed by a catastrophic meteor impact…

While Zhao Yunlan mused about standards of propriety, Hei Pao Shi evidently came to a decision and marched off toward the cluster of trees. Zhao Yunlan hurried after, only to find that the shelter offered by the spindly grove was hardly worthy to be called shade. Sun dappled the hard-baked earth between the trees, whose leaves were too ragged and sparse to block it out.

“Well, I guess it’s still better than out there,” Zhao Yunlan sighed, swinging his pack to the ground. His clothes where the pack had rested were sticky with perspiration, and he divested himself of his belt and shoulder holster so he could peel the layers of fabric off his skin and let them dry a little.

Across the patch of shade, Hei Pao Shi had his head tilted back to drink from his waterskin. His exposed neck was flushed and damp, and sweat glued strands of hair to his skin. “Xiao Hei, you’re going to sweat all that water out before we even make it back to the road,” Zhao Yunlan observed. “Why don’t you take some of that off?”

Hei Pao Shi glanced over, still drinking, and nearly choked when he saw Zhao Yunlan stripped to the waist. He coughed for a good ten seconds before he managed to sputter, “Take what off?”

Zhao Yunlan blinked at him in unconcealed surprise. He hadn’t banked on the sight of his body horrifying Shen Wei—he’d set that aside for his ego to unpack later—but for the first time, Hei Pao Shi had spoken to him without open disdain, apparently shocked into forgetting how much he hated “Kunlun.” He hadn’t even noticed the Xiao Hei, and Zhao Yunlan had expected some kickback on that one.

It was progress, of a sort.

[muzaktomyears]

Mimi and Yoko

[written shortly after John's death] “…After years of battling to be noticed and fighting desperately to be first, now the opportunity has arrived! The centre of notice and attention. At what a cost! Seemingly reveling in it, not a sign of emotion as far as I could detect in conversation on the phone. It will go on. Doesn’t she realize the real centre of attention has gone? She knows she was tolerated because of him. God knows nobody would have heard of her… Meanwhile, all I know is he’s gone and at times I think I’ll go mental. Some days I am more or less able to go on, then I’m devastated and lost… (...) It was through that conversation that [Mimi] began to recall the early years of John and Yoko. “You wouldn’t believe how quickly he changed. He was as different as night and day, just like that. It was almost as if she’d put a spell on him.” (...) [Mimi] adored [Sean] almost from the beginning. He was amazingly intelligent, she said, and she loved talking to him on the phone. I have no reason to believe that adoration didn’t continue until she died. I remember one story she told about Sean. Apparently he had lost his first tooth so Yoko told him to put it under his pillow and the tooth fairy would come and give him money for it. He followed her instructions and came out the next morning, disappointed that he’d received American money. He had hoped for foreign coins. Mimi took that as an early indication of his intelligence and that he would grow up to know exactly how to handle money. (...) [May '82] “I’m hearing a lot from Yoko. I seem to have phone calls nearly every other day. She says she’s very busy. No doubt she is but underlying it all I think she’s realising that without her making an effort etc. nobody will bother much. She needs to be noticed and like an old witch I sense loneliness. Seems next spring Strawberry Fields will be planted. She wanted me to go over for the opening. I can’t give a definite answer. The whole thing may come to nothing. She suggested if I like it over there, would I consider living there as that’s what John wanted. I think I’m too old to do that. I could have one of the flats in the Dakota… (...) [Feb ‘84] “Perhaps you heard of Yoko’s visit? She came here with Sean, and – dear God – bodyguards! Incredible in this country! She had announced she was coming to see me, so of course the damned press were here from 8 a.m. asking to see me, but I refused. They were persistent, knocking and asking for me but I stuck it out and refused. Meanwhile they sat at the door and waited. What was annoying, they got the address and nobody knew where I was until then. Then the retinue arrived and photographs – of Yoko and Sean. “Sean – the dearest little boy. Another John in every way – self-confident and sophisticated, taking photographs with timing on the camera and his arms around me. Left me a little letter with kisses and hearts and ‘God bless Mimi’. I simply could not get over him. We were all taken with him. “With Yoko also was a woman reporter, didn’t say so until she came and sat beside me and asked why I refused to see reporters. I said because they are all liars, then she said ‘I’m on a magazine’… So, if she writes she won’t have anything pleasant to say about me. When she got back to NY she phoned and didn’t seem very pleased when I said I still had nothing to say. So that was short and sharp. Her name was Barbara. I didn’t get the surname. So look out for her article if you can. She was with Yoko everywhere. Came over and went back with her. And – the bodyguards – dear God-" Mimi truly adored Sean, and by the mid-80s was warming considerably toward Yoko. I mentioned how I thought it a bit odd that she would bring a reporter with her when she was coming to see her dead husband’s family for the first time since his death, but she merely shrugged it off. “She can’t help herself.”

The Guitar’s All Right as a Hobby, John, Kathy Burns (2014)

[poisoningwords]

Level Headed

Chapter 1: Freed

“It's so quiet…where am I?”. Ivy shook her head, confused on what just happened, it was all a blur. She caught a glance of herself on the metallic bedding she was on. It worked…she reached for comfort from a near by plant, but nothing…nothing happened.

Ivy: What did you do!?!

(3 weeks later…)

It's been weeks since anyone has seen Ivy around; she left everything behind, leaving no trace after making an escape from Arkham. Her minions were running loose going on a rampage throughout Gotham; with no leader what else could they do in her absence. GCPD was getting overwhelmed with calls about her ghouls creating chaos through the city. Detectives questioned her passed inmates thinking that they may have some in-tell on where she could have gone and why her people were terrorizing the city.

Harley: ...Buzz off...

Harley looked down at her cuffs with annoyance in her voice

Joker: I haven’t heard a word from our little weed friend…but when you do find her, tell her the police are the least of her worries.

Joker leans back in his chair crossing his arms behind his head. He’s probably still pissed that her minions took over the new area he just claimed before he got locked in Arkham.

Harvey: rumors has it she planned to visit freeze up at his lab…

He took a drink of his water before continuing. Harvey: Something about a big experiment he wanted to try on her...

He shooed his hand in the air like he didn’t care to spare them any details.

Harvey: After hearing what freeze’s plans were, I don’t doubt that Pamela went to him after leaving here.

The GCPD headed towards Victor's lab but when they began to question him he claimed had hadn’t seen Ivy after the night she escaped.

Victor: she wanted me to do something out of my power. I told her that it was a stupid thing to even talk about let alone to even do but she wouldn’t take no for answer. She threatened the love of my life and after getting into well…an altercation. she was gone.

He shrugged his shoulders and wincing at the pain it brought. By the looks of him Ivy didn’t leave so quietly that night. With all the evinced they collected they had processed a warrant on poison ivy telling the citizens of Gotham if they see something,say something. They searched in all areas of the city and questioned anyone she had ever contacted but GCPD were coming up with the same answer every time, “She was gone”. James Gordon sent out email to other cities to make sure if she had fled Gotham city limits at least she wouldn’t get that far. Gordon was about to cut his losses and call the search off but he had one last hope; he had flashed the bat signal in the sky but what he didn't know was that HE was already waiting.

Batman: She not at her garden house.

He said with a deep raspy voice as Gordon jumped out of his skin.

Bats: I've went there as soon as I heard that Pamela escaped but when I got to her garden it was in ruins. Pots smashed and all her plants were gone, I'm going to keep searching… I already Nightwing checking the last possible place. With the GCPD roaming the streets it gets harder for us to move around quietly. Call off your men and wait until you hear from me.

Gordon tries to get his concentration back after being startled by the dark figure. He steadied his breathing and turned the signal off and slowly turns back to face the low voice.

Gordon: I really hope you know what you're doing. I got a word from Arkham saying that she wanted freeze to do some kind of experiment to her but fled after being denied. God knows what she was planning and with her men running around destroying the city…it’s out of my hands.

Bats: I’ll take care of her men just call off the search party.

With no other words as Batman walked away deeper into the shadows leaving Gordon frustrated on the roof top.

Meanwhile at an old run down apartment building downtown, Nightwing (Dick Grayson) just arrived. He quickly gave the front building a scan from a rooftop across the way for any possible sign of life…of Ivy.

Nightwing: Come Ivy…where are you?

Nothing…He circled the building and was about to check in with Batman to tell him there's no sign of her when something small caught his eye. A curtain blowing out of an open window, dim lights covered the room creating a shadowing of a familiar figure against the blowing curtain. He smiles confidently.

Nightwing: There you are.

He grappled to the fire escape, landing and leaning against the side of the building he quietly listened. He heard a woman’s voice softly humming a tune and water running from a sink foist. He gradually peaked his head in through the curtains to see where the siren of a song was coming from. He saw the back of a woman. She was by her sink placing a small mint plant on the counter where she gently caressed the leaves of the small plant between her fingers. Her voice…her familiar luring voice. Dick knew without a doubt that it was Ivy.

Nightwing: Gotcha…I knew you wouldn't leave without saying bye…

He whispered as he looked around to make sure he had a clear entrance. Dick quickly grabbed his escrima sticks and straddles the open window waiting to make his move. His heart pounded as she turned giving away her profile as she picked a dead leaf off the mint plant. Without thinking, Dick takes his chance and rolls onto the floor of the apartment.

Nightwing: You’re a tough lady to find Ivy. Now… back away from the plant and turn around.

His hands are steady,holding his weapons towards her and watching for any sudden movements. The women was stunned and frighten. She held her hands up and turns around slowly. Dick’s eyes grew wide and slowly lowered his weapons. The women looked defeated as she looked into his blue eyes.

Nightwing: Ivy…is that you?