#and THEN. as i try to WALK AWAY AND PREVENT ESCALATION

[lynxgirlpaws]

havin' root beer for th' first time in awhile.... changig it up from bihtc beer... doign somethigm different...

[ittybittyfanblog]

Only You, Darling (Only You, Babe)

Summary: There were orders for your abduction. You were made to be the bait by a rival gang to get to the elusive head of Onychinus. Sylus doesn’t take it too well. Word Count: 4.8k Tags: mc x sylus, fem!reader x sylus (use of she/her pronouns), depictions of violence (it gets a little graphic), reader gets abducted and injured, strong language, protective!sylus, he’s a little unhinged here, self-indulgent! A/N: I can’t believe this game pulled me out of a three-year creative rut LMAO. I’ve been doing fanarts, now I’m writing again?? The power these pixelated men hold over me, man.  Anyway, enjoy!  This version of Sylus is probably a little OOC idk idk ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

It's close to midnight, and you're being followed.

On your six, a stocky man in an unassuming dark suit has been tailing you since you left the dingy bodega, a little over a mile away from your apartment, for about, three? five minutes—no, maybe even longer.

Shit, you mouth silently. Sloppy. You should’ve noticed him sooner, and the two other lackeys now closing in from up ahead. They’re armed too, if the hands hidden inside their jackets are any indication.

As if things aren't looking bad enough, you’ve decided tonight would be the perfect night to go weaponless, deciding against bringing your handgun with you since it was supposed to just be a quick run to the store for supplies. Namely, the late-night cravings sort of supply.

You clutch the wrinkled paper bag containing your coveted jalapeño Cheetos tightly.

This is what greed does to you, a mocking voice echoes in your head. Since when did your inner voice of reason sound masculine and oh-so-familiar? 

Exhaling quietly, you try to calm the rising beat of your heart and appear to be clueless of your surroundings. Walk at a normal pace. Look unaware of the men with the intention to… What even is this? An ambush? Good, old, regular robbery? No, it doesn’t seem like they're in it for something that insignificant. They wouldn’t even bother to be this cautious if it were. 

But then, what are they here for? The dangers you're more familiar with are of the monstrous kind in the literal sense of the word; entities that you face on a daily basis as a Deepspace hunter. Not the regular threats posed by mankind – which in this particular situation, suddenly feels more foreboding.

While racking your brain for ideas on how to slip away from their sight without escalating the situation, you fail to notice a fourth person hidden behind the dumpster inside the narrow alleyway on your left until you feel the cold, hard edge of a pistol gun hit your temple.  

With a shout, your hand shoots up in an attempt to yank the gun away from the hand holding it but the sudden burst of pain from the impact has left you feeling dizzy and off-kilter. The moment you throw your fists up to block your face, heavy fists strike you directly in a flurry of hits, colliding with your forearm and your unguarded ribs.

You let out a pained grunt as you stagger backwards, trying your hardest to keep yourself from falling back on your ass and ward off the next incoming attack. 

A sinister laugh alerts you of the others, now surrounding you in a circle. Shit!

You hastily shift your legs into a crouching position, bracing yourself as you attempt to sidestep the one in front of you before making a run for it. You spring into action, but before you can even take another step, an arm shoots out and coils tightly around your neck like a noose. A cloth that reeks of something distinct is slapped over your mouth and nose, rendering you unable to do anything but struggle. 

“Now, now— the boss wants her in one piece, John,” The stocky man, who’s apparently larger and more jacked up-close, pipes up. John tightens the limb circling your throat, preventing you from breathing, before slightly loosening his grip. 

 “I’d advise you from struggling too much, sweetheart. But if you insist on making this harder for yourself,” the man talking suddenly grins, revealing rows of crooked, silver teeth. “He ain’t said nothin’ about a couple of bruises.” 

You give him your dirtiest glare, trying to pull away from the death grip the burly man called John had on you, but you feel your muscles slowly becoming heavier and your vision starting to blur. 

Ch-chloroform?

You make a muffled shout, a scurry that earns you a heavy hit on the stomach, one last futile move to free yourself, but the inevitable effect of the potent substance starts to overpower you. 

“After all, we need to make sure that the big bad boss of Onychinus actually comes for his bitch, don’t we?”

Rendered completely useless, the men start to make quick work to restrain your arms and legs in a hogtie before carrying you down the street, to a shaded corner where a large, gray van is parked.

The barn doors open, and you’re tossed in carelessly to the back, landing painfully on the cold, hard floor. An involuntary whimper escapes your lips, feeling like one big bruise; splotches of red and blue start to form like a violent watercolor on your skin. 

The engine revs. Before completely losing consciousness, you think you hear a faint caw.

The car drives off the beaten path, into the night, leaving not a trace of evidence of what transpired mere minutes ago aside from a discarded brown paper bag and a deflated bag of chips. 

-

-

-

From a distance, flying towards the hazy skyline, a mechanical bird crows a bad omen. 

_____

In the dead of the night, the head of Onychinus sits as a spectator; a towering presence at the head of a table inside a private room, obscured in plain sight, in an unremarkable establishment far east of Linkon City. 

Unassuming as it may be, the room’s occupants are men of great renown, both in influence and notoriety. The CEO of a chain business in Azure Square, a regional manager of a well-known bank in Linkon, the head of a weapons trade representing a faction in the N109 zone… All hold significant power, all hold ulterior motives.

A meeting of minds; the type held only in the secrecy of the night, gone in the break of dawn. 

Sylus has half the mind to listen in on the droning exchange of fake pleasantries and plastic smiles as the men deal trades in nature that of weapons and favors. A number of hungry, beady eyes cast him furtive glances, fearful yet devout. Some cautious in the hope of earning his approval. 

“–the package will be en route to the agreed-upon address by the end of the week,” a stout man in spectacles finishes off, clearing his throat. Beads of sweat start to form at the back of his neck as red eyes bore into his, assessing. Deliberating. “O-or if Richard’s able to give me the go-ahead in advance, I’ll make sure it arrives by Friday,” a gulp—then, “sir.” 

All in reverence. 

He hums, his switchblade dancing idly in his hand, deliberately stretching the tension that hangs heavy in the air. He delights in this power to unsettle, savoring the authority that his mere presence commands—a demand for absolute deference. 

“Make it half that time, will you, Raymond?” Sylus responds amicably, not as a question. The man, Raymond, sputters. 

“That won’t be pos–” Sylus tilts his head, eyes shifting into something more dangerous. “Please, I’ll try to cut the time shorter but there won’t be any assurances.” 

The pale-haired man sighs in acquiescence. “I suppose that will have to do.” Raymond lets out an exhale of relief, but catches his breath as Sylus continues, “Any later than Wednesday, and I’ll come to claim it personally.” 

Raymond, more nerves than man, starts to blabber something in response—but stops when something black suddenly appears in a blaze of dark energy, near the shoulder of the intimidating man he’s trying to appeal to. 

Sylus raises a hand, and a large crow lands on his pointer finger. 

He caws, once. Twice. And shows a projection. 

The inhospitably cold room suddenly went glacial. 

All conversation halts to a stop as an overwhelmingly suffocating aura starts to emanate from the man—no, the being at the head of the table, making all that are in the vicinity freeze in fear. 

The devil posing as the leader of Onychinus abruptly stands up, and Raymond thinks, Oh I’m going to die here.

Without a word, the man disappears in a Stygian haze.

_

Five minutes later, only after they felt like death was no longer looming over their heads, did anyone dare to move a muscle.

_____

Your head hurts, and your mouth tastes of rust. 

Having been awake for longer than your captors are aware of – two (?) of which bickering near a barred slate of metal that you assume is the door after taking a quick peek from beneath the mess of hair concealing your face – you try to get your bearings together without arousing the suspicion of your present audience. 

“–bet it’s gonna take a while ‘fore that guy arrives. You think she’s enough to get him to show his face?” 

“Damned if I know. In any case, we got a pretty, li’l plaything on our hands,” a snort. “Make her worth the effort.” 

Where were you? From what it looks like, you’ve been transported into a nondescript underground bunker of sorts, dank with a hint of mildew and rot in the air; a rumbling air vent on your left masking any noise that escaped your mouth when you woke up. The area is poorly lit, save for the flickering bulb hanging precariously above your head as your main source of light – good for casting shadows to hide your bruised face, bad for the pounding headache you’re pretty sure is a concussion. And with your back seemingly close to a wall, you arrive at the conclusion that there are no other entryways, no way to leave, but the guarded door in front of you. 

In short, you have no idea where you are. 

Fuck—this is bad, you swear to yourself internally, trying to control the rising panic swelling up your chest. You never thought your nightcap would lead to this mess. Nobody knows about your current predicament, and it’ll take more than a day before your absence raises any alarms, so right now, you’re on your own. 

Think, think! What can you do?

What can you do? You have nothing on you, nothing you can use as a makeshift weapon to defend yourself with, and your hands are tightly bound behind your back by a thick, heavily twined rope with no give. The situation is slowly turning bleaker by the second, and it isn’t even your fault that you’re here in the first place! You were made a pawn, a mere bait in this messed-up dick-measuring contest between a crazy, sadistic, self-proclaimed head honcho and Onychinus’s own crazy, sadistic—

Wait a minute. Sylus. 

You send a strong prayer to anyone above that’s listening, and an angry telepathic shout for good measure to the one who’s unaware of his involvement – but nonetheless the source of your ruined night – in this attempt at kidnapping a perfectly law-abiding citizen of Linkon.

Sylus, as much as I hate your unfortunate tendency to stalk me through means that, honestly? Eludes the hell out of me, I really, REALLY hope that you’ve been keeping tabs toni–

“Hey, boss! I think this one’s awake!”

Fuck. No use pretending anymore. 

You hear heavy footsteps from outside the room before the corroded metal door swings open to reveal a large man, easily standing above six feet, sporting a neatly trimmed beard and an unsettling smile. His arms are covered in tattoos– overlapping, almost undecipherable. A gnarly scar runs from the side of his mouth to just above his brow bone; his right eye a cloudy gray, most likely a morbid souvenir from the sustained injury.

His functional eye zeroes in on your pitiful form, and his smile widens into a hostile grin. 

“Well, well. It seems like our esteemed guest is finally ready to join in the fun,” His voice sounds like gravel, with a mocking intonation. “I hope my men weren't too rough with you on the way here.” 

You let out a breath through your teeth, blinking a few times to try and rid the blurring in your vision. You have to bide your time– “Why am I here? What do you want from me?” 

The man cocks his head to the side, smile still in place. “I assume you already know. But I’ll indulge you your little questions, why not?”

He crosses the space separating the two of you with just a few, languid steps before he’s in front of you. He leans forward, brushing the messy locks of hair – dried with blood – away from your face in a deceptively calm manner. “The devil needs to pay his dues, but it’s been rather difficult to get a hold of him, you see,” he sighs in exaggerated disappointment. ”I intend to collect, so I waited patiently for the right moment, for an opening. For an opportunity. 

And here, the opportunity presents herself.” 

You sneer, moving your head back to let your hair fall from his creepy hold. “I’ve no clue what you’re talking about, mister, but I’m pretty sure you’ve got the wrong idea.”

He barks out a laugh before gripping your chin tightly between his fingers. “You’ve got a smart mouth on you. Maybe we can find a better use for it.” 

You feel it before you hear it. 

“Perhaps not.” 

Something vicious saturates the air, something intense and terrifying and wrong. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up, and some sort of primordial response deep within your brain is telling you to get away from it.

But then, the paralyzing fear melts away to something akin to hope when you realize the source of this new disturbance.

Relief washes over you when familiar ink-and-red tendrils materialize behind the man in front of you. The dark wisps dissipate like smoke as soon as it comes and in place, your savior – sporting an expression that could only be described as downright murderous – stands before you, all six feet of unadulterated rage.

Several things happened so fast, it was almost simultaneous.

A cacophony of shouts came loudest from the two men who had been on guard duty but screams also echoed from outside the room. You saw flashes of red, twin laughter, and blood spurting from the necks of the now headless guards, and then a symphony of bullets and a lot of things breaking rang across the room. 

Suddenly— 

Deafening silence. As if something has put an abrupt stop to the noise. 

Amidst all the chaos, the scarred man in front of you had no time to make a move before savage whips of crackling energy engulfed him, leaving only his head free from the smothering darkness. 

His expression betrays something wild and manic as he tries twisting around to look at the figure behind him. “You—”

Sylus pays no mind to the breathing, dead fool—lower than dirt on his feet, with the nerve to harm what is most precious to him—as he keeps his gaze solely on you; his eyes darting up and down as if taking inventory of all the bruises and scrapes you sustained from the abduction. 

You meet his eyes. “You came.” 

An indecipherable look passes his face, gone as quickly as it came. “A little too late. I apologize.” 

You weakly huff out a chuckle, wanting to shake your head but decide against it lest it aggravates your concussion. A prickling sensation, then the rope around your wrists falls off with a quiet thud. 

“Luke. Kieran.” 

“Everything’s all accounted for, boss,” Kieran announces, suddenly appearing beside your right, along with Luke who’s on your left. Both look no worse for wear.

 The latter gives you a sympathetic look. “Oh, man. They got you good, little crow.” 

“Caught me off-guard, s’all,” you insist half-heartedly. 

A sigh. “Transport her directly back to base. Attend to her critical injuries once you arrive, and keep her awake. I’ll handle the rest once I get back,” Sylus instructs the twins in a tone that brooks no argument.

They nod in sync and start making a move to carry you out, but you protest.

“Wait, you’re staying behind?” For some reason, the thought of being separated from him, even for a short amount of time, makes you feel ill. Well, worse than your current state, at least. 

Sanguine eyes soften when he hears the tremble in your voice. The offending man in front of you, reduced into something less threatening than a cowering dog in comparison to your rescuer, is forcibly pushed aside to make room for Sylus as he steps closer. 

He crouches low so that you’re looking down on him instead of up. One large hand covers both of yours, mindfully avoiding the fresh rope burns on your wrists, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on the unmarred part of your skin. 

“This will be quick, sweetie. I’ll be back by your side before you know it,” he exhales, closing his eyes for a moment. “I swear to you.”

You swallow, but nodded reluctantly. “Come home soon.” 

“I will.”

With that, you let yourself be carried out of the claustrophobic space you were confined to, into a larger room littered with unmoving bodies that you're frankly too tired to care about at the moment, up three (rickety) flights of stairs where you exit into what looks like the inside of an empty shipping container, before finally, finally getting out. 

A gust of salty wind hits you and you ask, “Are we near the docks?” 

“Yeah,” Kieran answers, carefully putting you down on the backseat of Sylus’ car. “Mephisto trailed after the van they stuffed you in before reporting back to the boss. We followed soon after.” 

Luke frowns as he inserts the key in the ignition. “We weren’t aware that they had eyes on you for a while now. An oversight on our part, won’t happen again,” he assures you. “Gotta give them props for that, at least.” 

Kieran, now getting in the passenger side of the vehicle, shoots him a look. 

“Anyway, we’re glad we got to you before they did anything… worse,” Kieran continues, then winces in a show of mock sympathy. “Can’t say the same to that fucker back inside. Haven’t felt Sylus’ bloodlust this strong in a long while.” 

You try to focus on their words, but you feel yourself nodding off as the remaining adrenaline slowly leaves your body. You know you should feel more worried about what the two were insinuating, but your mouth still tastes like you swallowed a bunch of coins and you just want a soft bed to sleep in for an entire day. Or three. 

“Oi, no sleeping. Doctor’s orders,” A snapping finger in front of your face forces you awake. 

You blink your tired eyes open in an attempt to stay lucid, the pulsing pain in your head becoming more prominent as soon as the threat of danger has passed. 

“This is gonna be a long night,” you sigh, wishing that Sylus will keep his word and be quick about… whatever he’s planning to do with your abductor. 

–––––

There hasn’t been much left of the man who proclaims to be the new head of an arms syndicate Sylus had dealt with in the past. He recalls the history of his relationship with the cartel being less than cordial, but nothing that would warrant his ire. Except for tonight.

He usually doesn’t leave a trace when doling out punishments; no, not anymore. Not in recent years. He prefers to be efficient about his killings, dissipating any evidence in thin air after reducing them into fine paste, rather than make a big show out of it. Quick and precise.

Except today… Someone had the arrogance, the absolute audacity to steal directly from the dragon’s nest.

The contents of which have always been kept in strict confidentiality. What is known, only chosen individuals bound to secrecy are privy to, and a lot of people would kill for. 

But unbeknownst to anyone else but its owner, only one thing in this hoard of secrets truly matters to the dragon. One solitary treasure alone he would burn planets for—and someone has tried to steal it.

Harm. the treasure. To get to him. 

It seems as if the new bloods needed a reminder of who, exactly, they’re stealing from. 

One who dwells deep within the underbelly of the cities both monster and men inhabit, that even the most heinous of sinners seeking solace in the dark, are afraid of. 

And what retribution tastes like to those who are foolish enough to bite more than what they can chew.

The poor soul unfortunate enough to be the first one to discover the carnage will witness that what was left of the man that had wronged the Onychinus kingpin is now stuck on the walls, the floor, and the ceiling of a basement where the treasure was held captive. They will find that the man’s innards are deliberately hung in a haphazard fashion, in all corners of the room like bloody, sinewy tinsel. 

And the centerpiece of this bloodbath is none other than the man’s decapitated head, forcibly attached to the hanging light in the middle of the room. A bulb crudely drilled past his cranium, while blood dripped down the floor in slow, ominous rivulets. 

They will understand in dawning horror that the one responsible for this... gross butchery, has left the head swinging. That the man’s mouth will forever remain agape in an eternal scream to immortalize the exact moment he realizes the gravity of his sin.   

Yes, Sylus is more than glad to remind them. 

_____

You arrive a quarter past four AM. 

Barely taking a step past the foyer, the twins immediately whisk you inside to perform an ‘emergency patch-up.’ Luke’s words, not yours.

“We’re your personal CNA while waiting for the head nurse to take over,” he explains cheerfully, wrapping another layer of gauze around your wrist. You hiss when Kieran dabs a cotton ball on the gash on your temple, peroxide fizzing as it comes in contact with the dried-up blood. Muttering out a “sorry!” Kieran does quick work in cleaning the injury and covering the affected area.

In no time at all, all visible wounds are bandaged and disinfected. The worst of your head wound had to be stitched up, but other than that, nothing seems to require immediate medical attention. There’s nothing left for you to do but to bear the aches that came along with the bruises – especially on your tender midriff – and to pop a tylenol for your throbbing headache.

You offer them a sincere, “Thanks. No, really.” before they leave you in Sylus’ room, after multiple reminders to “not sleep before the attending nurse arrives for the final diagnosis.” 

(You think they might have enjoyed playing caretaker a little too much.) 

With a lot more effort than you care to admit, you painstakingly remove your bloodstained clothes until you're down to your underwear, before draping yourself in a large, red, silk robe. A hot shower sounds heavenly to your sore muscles, but the soft mattress is calling to you more so you head straight to bed. 

With nothing else to occupy yourself with, you prop your head on a mountain of pillows – to keep yourself relatively upright – and let out a sigh. 

Tonight had been a shitshow. All you wanted was something to snack on while you binge through the last season of the show you were watching back at your apartment; you never thought a late-night run to the store just a few blocks away would result in… this. If not for Sylus’ intervention, you’re sure you'd be leaving with a lot more than a couple of scrapes. If not worse.

You're lost in your own thoughts when short, successive raps on the door catch your attention. It swings open before you have the chance to pipe out a, “come in!”

Speak of the devil.

Sylus enters the room, not a hair out of place. You notice that he’s changed into a casual, brown sweater and a pair of dark-washed jeans. His eyes meet yours, tightly-controlled expression relaxing as he crosses the room towards the side of your bed, wasting no time. 

“How are you feeling?”

“Still pretty sore, but Luke and Kieran already handled the worst of my injuries,” you answer, making a move to sit up. Sylus tuts disapprovingly, gentle as he puts a hand on your chest to prevent you from moving any further. He sits gingerly on the edge of the mattress, careful not to jostle you. Once fully settled, he let out a deep sigh.

“You had me worried for a moment there, kitten.” He admits, a slightly rough edge to his voice as emotion seeps into it. He regards you intently, like he’s trying to convince himself that you’re here, safe. 

Your hand reaches out towards his face. Without missing a beat, he leans in to nuzzle your palm, eyes closing shut. He reminds you of a big wolf, unbridled fire simmering beneath the surface, yet tame in the presence of his handler. 

“I’m fine now, thanks to you,” you assure him with a lopsided smile. “Give my thanks to Mephisto, as well. Tell him he gets a pass on the stalking this time.” 

Sylus opens his eyes, a hint of amusement and something else you can’t identify flickering through. “Oh, sweetie. You’ll be lucky if that bird gives you the privacy to bathe alone after tonight,” he jokes. 

He’s joking. Right?

You eye him for a moment before deciding to let it go. You're too tired to argue.

Instead, you cautiously ask a question you aren’t sure you even want the answer to. “What happened after we left?” 

Sylus expression doesn’t change except for the upward tick on the corner of his mouth; the same peculiar glint in his eyes coming across a little stronger. “They won’t be bothering you anymore. You don’t need to worry about anyone coming for you.”

“That’s not what I asked.” 

He hums. “Do you really want to know?”

You stare at him, and he stares back at you placidly. 

You purse your lips and look away. “Maybe not.” 

Sylus breathes out a laugh. He gently grasps your chin between his forefinger and thumb, guiding your head to meet his gaze once more. A softer look on his face, inching closer to yours.

Your heartbeat slightly picks up. In your vulnerable state, you feel a welling desire to bare your feelings to the man in front of you. You want to tell him how relieved you felt when you saw him in that cursed basement, how he was able to quell your fears with just his presence alone the moment he appeared in a familiar haze of black and red. Like your own, personal, vindictive guardian. 

Instead, you close the distance between the two of you, your lips meeting his. 

Sylus groans quietly, a hand cupping your face as he leans closer to deepen the kiss. Your eyes flutter shut, savoring the feeling of contentment from being this close to him. You feel, more than you see, how his taut body loses the remaining tension from the events that transpired just mere hours ago, how he finally relaxes as he loses himself in you.

Very carefully, he eases you further down, cradling your head with one hand until it rests on a pillow. His lips drift to the corner of your mouth, trailing soft kisses up to the apples of your cheeks, your forehead, then to your nose. 

He pulls back slightly, chuckling when you make a sound of discontent. When you open your eyes, you see him looking at you—half-lidded and tender. 

In a low voice, he instructs, “Rest. You need it.”

The feeling of exhaustion pulls you in, but before you surrender to it, you remind Sylus, “I’m not that fragile, you know. You don’t have to worry too much.” You poke his cheek and he catches the offending digit to bite it affectionately. “I’ll be up and running in no time.”

He doesn't speak for a minute, considering your words. His mouth sets into a thin line before letting out a sigh.

“And if you get hurt again? What then?" He whispers so quietly, seeming as if he's talking to himself.

"I'll get hurt again, that's for sure," You tell him, matter-of-factly. "But really, that’s just an occupational hazard. I’m sure you realize."

“Love — what a terrible, little thing,” he muses, half-forlornly, half in jest. "I’d rip this cold heart out and throw it in flames if I could.”

While speaking, his hand finds its way into the tangles of your hair, gently running his fingers through the strands in a lulling manner. His lips landing on the crown of your head softly. Reverently.

You hum sleepily.

“Of course you would, Sy.”

_____

“You’ll be glad to know that the artifact you had your eye on back at the auction will be arriving this Wednesday.” 

“Huh? But I thought it was already sold to someone else?”

Sylus shrugs. “I made a counteroffer.” 

“You didn’t have to. I told you it was fine.” 

“I know. But I also recall a certain someone telling me how much they wished they had placed a bid on it on our way back,” he pinches your cheek fondly. “Don’t worry about it, kitten. It’s yours.”

“Oh. Well– thank you,” you yawn in response, leaning your head to rest against his palm.

His thumb strokes your cheek. “Anything for you.”

[xclowniex]

Lovely, people are already trying to claim that the terror attack at a walk for the Israeli hostages was a false flag operation. Aka Israel was behind it to give the pro Palestine movement bad PR.

I am going to hold your hand as I say this, the DC jewish museum shooting and this most recent attack in Colorado are not the first instances of violence from antizionists. We have been seeing this for months. For over a fucking year already.

These two most recent attacks are simply escalations from smaller attacks. If you were at any of the various college campus encamptments or have seen the official reports, you will know that violence has always been present in the movement.

This does not mean that every antizionist is violent, or that being pro Palestine means you support violence. What this means is violence has always been present in the movement, and those in it have done absolutely fuck all to prevent it. To the point where instead of going "hmmm maybe we should do something to prevent violence", people try to turn around and blame it on jews. This isn't some woke line of thinking. It's the same centuries old "blame everything on the jews" antisemitic rhetoric wrapped with a modern spin.

Attacking jews, jewish events, and walks and protests for the hostages, does not free Palestine. It does not bring Palestinians more aid, it does not lessen their suffering.

Suffering is not some finite resource where if you inflict it onto jews it takes it away from Palestinians. Suffering is infinite and you are just contributing to more suffering existing in the world

[1800-fight-me]

Bloom

Logan Howlett x Female!Reader Rating: M (Mature but as always-MINORS DO NOT INTERACT) Warnings: Cursing, violence, injury, some angst but this is mostly fluff Word count: About 3.5k Synopsis: Your mutant power of making plants grow and flowers bloom coincidentally manifests more with Logan's presence, it has nothing to do with his ability to make you laugh and bring you comfort. Author’s note: This isn't my favorite thing I've written, but it's silly and fun and inspired by my recent rewatch of The Office- I wanted to write a more lighthearted version of Logan so here you go - I hope y'all enjoy! P.S. I do not have a taglist! Instead if you would like to be notified when I post new fics follow my side blog @jo-writes-fanfic and turn your post notifications on! Comments and reblogs make my day! Logan Howlett Masterlist Main Masterlist

“Logan,” you whispered. 

He snapped his head in your direction from across the room, his enhanced hearing enabling him to hear you despite your extremely quiet tone. 

He raised an eyebrow at you from where he hid behind the door and you did your best to hold in your giggle. 

The flowers on the desk bloomed due to your excitement. 

You were crouched behind Scott’s desk as you waited for his early morning arrival to his office. 

The entire room was covered with all of the worst pictures the two of you could find of Scott- the walls, the desk, the door, every square inch of the room was pasted with shitty quality black -and-white copier photos. 

“How long do you think we have to wait?” you asked and he shushed you with a wink. 

Only moments later, Scott walked through the doorway and flicked the light on. 

“What the hell,” Scott mumbled with an exasperated sigh. 

You couldn’t contain your giggle at this point, especially when Logan wiggled his eyebrows at you. 

“Come out, idiots,” Scott said with a groan. 

Logan laughed uproariously, the sound coming from deep in his chest and your giggle turned into a cackle as you stood from behind the desk and Logan stepped out from behind the door. 

“This is ridiculous! Of all the asinine things the two of you have done-“

“Run,” you gasped through laughter as you grabbed Logan’s hand and darted past Scott in an attempt to escape his ridiculous lecture on the seriousness of your roles as professors and X-Men. 

You ran until you could no longer hear Scott yelling and ended up near the front door of the mansion. 

Logan’s hand slipped from yours but before you could mourn the loss, both hands were on your shoulders as he leaned down closer to you as you both laughed. 

“That was perfect, petal,” he said -calling you your X-Man nickname-  with a smile that took your breath away. 

You grinned up at him, “I think it was our best prank so far.” 

“All from that brilliant mind of yours,” he said. 

“What is this? What the hell is going on?” an angry voice echoed through the foyer. 

Logan’s hands slipped from your shoulders and your smile fell as you looked over to see your boyfriend. So wrapped up in Logan, you hadn’t even heard or noticed the front door open and someone walk in. 

“You trying to make a move on my girl?” Mark snapped. 

“No,” Logan said, his amusement gone and his eyes hard. 

“No, no,” you interjected, “it was just office pranks okay, we played a prank on Scott,” you said as you stepped towards Mark, putting yourself as a barrier between him and Logan in an attempt to prevent any escalation considering they both have short fuses. 

“Just office pranks,” Logan echoed. 

Mark glared over your shoulder at Logan and you did have to commend him for the courage it took to look at the Wolverine that way. 

“Nothing is going on, that’s insane,” you said firmly as you pressed your hand against Mark’s chest. 

His eyes finally cut to yours and he let you guide him to step backwards and out the front door. 

The leaves on the bushes in front of the house began to wilt in response to your frustration. 

He wrapped an arm around your waist and pressed a too firm kiss to your lips, as if he were making a point. You pulled back and looked behind you to see Logan’s back as he walked away. Something in your heart twisted. 

You firmly shut the door behind you. 

“Hey, what brings you here so early?” you asked. 

“I missed you,” he said as he pressed another kiss to your lips, this time lingering, clear innuendo in his words and actions. 

You pulled back. “I have a class to teach in twenty minutes,” you said. 

“So? That gives us plenty of time…” he murmured as his hands drifted down to your ass. 

You pushed on his chest again and took a step back from him.  

“Mark!,” you protested. “One of the children could see us out here.” 

“So?”

“So?”, you echoed back in an irritated tone. “It’s inappropriate. This is my job. And you came here for what- an early morning quickie? After you didn’t even call me back last night?” 

“I was trying to make it up to you,” he said as he placed his hands on your waist and pressed a kiss to your cheek. 

You sighed. 

“Let me make it up to you,” he pleaded as his fingers danced at your waist. 

You let out a breathless laugh and said, “Fine- tonight you can make it up to me.” 

He pressed another smacking kiss to your lips before bidding you goodbye. 

You turned back towards the mansion and your face burned with embarrassment as you saw Logan through the window. 

His facial expression was hard and you gulped as you again watched his broad back as he turned and walked away from you. 

Your giddy mood from this morning plummeted as you trudged towards your classroom. 

—--------------

You cherished your friendship with Logan but your boyfriend’s frustration and distrust towards him irritated you. It wasn’t like Mark hadn’t also given you reasons to question his loyalty. 

You had started dating Mark only a few weeks after moving into town and into the X-Mansion as a new X-Man and professor at the school almost five months ago. 

You had, of course, initially had a little crush on Logan- but when it seemed he had a thing for Jean, despite her being in a relationship with Scott, you decided to avoid all the drama and look outside your workplace for romance. Mainly, at the local bar. 

The crush was long gone and Logan had become a great friend- one of your favorite pastimes was playing pranks on Scott with him. To be fair, Scott had a tendency to be really annoying and deserved it. It started with you laughing at every dig Logan made towards Scott, his sense of humor matched your own and it wasn’t long before the pranks began.

So yeah, it was just friendship you continued to convince yourself, and it didn’t matter that Logan saw your boyfriend kiss you. You ignored the small hurt in your heart. 

It didn’t matter, you convinced yourself and walked towards your classroom to start your workday. 

As you walked in, petals began to fall off the vase of roses on your desk that Mark had given you a week ago. 

A week passed and your next prank on Scott wasn’t quite as clever. You used your powers to subtly grow the grass around Scott’s shoes where he stood so he tripped when he tried to take a step forward. 

It was juvenile, but worth it when you saw Logan’s smirk. Logan walked past you with a quick pat on your back and it eased the awkwardness of the past week as you smiled at him. 

—-

“Princess Petal,” Logan said in a teasing tone as he sat down on the couch next to you. 

You rolled your eyes at the ridiculous nickname but didn’t have anything in you to come up with a retort. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked. 

You shook your head, worried about speaking. Certain as soon as you open your mouth the tears will come. 

“Look at me,” he murmured as he put a finger under your chin and turned your face towards him. 

At the look of concern in his pretty hazel eyes you couldn’t help it, you started to cry. 

He immediately pulled you closer, you hid your face in his chest. 

He whispered words of reassurance as he rubbed his large hand up and down your back. 

You relaxed into his embrace, comforted by the warmth of him. 

“Tell me?” he asked gently. 

“Mark and I got into a fight. He wants me to move in with him and I don’t know if I’m ready. He said he doesn’t trust me living here,” you said, your voice thick with tears. 

“What the hell does that mean- he doesn’t trust you?” he asked gruffly. 

You just shook your head, feeling too uncomfortable to explain. Logan was the reason for all your fights with Mark these days, but you wouldn’t tell him that. 

You could tell he wanted to press you for more, to say more, but instead he just said, “You’ll work it out. You always do.” 

The succulent on the coffee table before the two of you shriveled up and died. 

You sighed. 

“Yeah,” you agreed as you wiped your tears. And that was that. 

You let Logan support and reassure you, and your relationship with Mark continued to trudge along despite your resolve that you were not going to move out of the mansion.  

———

“Petal, you and Wolverine clear out the right side of the Warehouse, Storm and I will clear the left, and meet back here once we’re done,” Cyclops ordered. 

You nodded and walked off with Logan, doing as you were bid. 

The mission went perfect, until the very end. 

The warehouse was cleared of combatants, the young mutants safe and secured, you and Logan made your way back to the jet to meet the rest of the team and head home. 

“I’m just saying,” you laughed. 

“No fuckin’ way,” Logan chuckled. 

You loved it when you made him laugh, you thought it might be your favorite sound in the whole world. 

You looked over at him, and saw him looking at you with such fondness in his gaze that your breath caught. 

When the gunshot sounded, it was too late for you to react. 

Logan yelled your name and attempted to throw himself in front of you, but was too slow. 

Sharp intense pain overwhelmed you as the bullet tore through your stomach. 

“Logan,” you gasped as you fell to the ground. You heard his guttural yell as his claws tore through your assailant. 

After only a few moments, he was kneeling at your side. 

“Help!” he screamed as his hand covered your belly in an attempt to staunch the bleeding as he pulled you onto his lap. 

“Don’t leave me, baby. You’re okay, you’re going to be okay. I’m so sorry, baby. Just hold on, help is coming- just hold on,” he desperately pleaded. 

You placed a hand on the side of his face and then the whole world went dark. 

——

When you woke there was the sort of beeping you only hear in hospitals. 

You groaned as you cracked your eyes open and the bright lights blinded you. 

A gentle hand was placed on the side of your face and turned your head to meet gorgeous hazel eyes filled with care. He sat in a chair beside the bed, as close as he could to you. 

“Lo,” you breathed out. 

The soft upturn of his lips filled your whole body with warmth- made you forget about the pain completely. 

“How’re you feeling, princess petal?” he asked. 

You smiled, “Like shit.” 

He chuckled quietly. 

His thumb rubbed along your cheekbone and your eyes fluttered closed as you savored the feeling. 

“I’m so sorry,” he said. 

Your brows furrowed as you looked at him once more. 

“It wasn’t your fault. We all thought the building was clear,” you said. 

“I should’ve-“ 

“Logan. Stop- it wasn’t your fault. I’m okay,” you said. 

At the deadpan look he gave you, you shrugged and said, “Okay maybe I’m not totally okay right but I didn’t die and I will be okay.” 

He rolled his eyes at you but smiled reluctantly all the same. 

“I can’t even think about losing you,” he admitted, his voice low and rough. 

You tried to sit up, but winced as pain shot through your abdomen. 

He jumped up and placed his hands on both your shoulders and pressed you back on the bed. 

With a sigh you allowed him to lay you back down. 

You caught his hand before he could pull away. 

“You’re not going to lose me,” you whispered. 

He pursed his lips and you could see a shift within his eyes- it was clear he was holding himself back from saying something. 

“What?” you asked softly. 

He took a deep breath as if to prepare himself. 

The door to the medical lab opened up. 

“What the hell is this?” Mark asked sharply as he walked in with Jean.  

You looked over in confusion. You supposed it had looked concerning, Logan was half leaned over you, his face close to yours as you held onto his hand. 

Logan stood to his full height quickly and took a step back from the bed you laid in. 

“I tried to sit up and was in pain, Logan was helping me lay back down,” you said before Logan could even open his mouth. 

Mark rolled his eyes and mumbled under his breath, “Always another fucking excuse.” 

“Listen bub-“ Logan started to retort but you just shook your head at him. 

Jean came over to your side and asked gently, “How bad is the pain?”. This pulled the attention of both men away from each other and to you. 

“It hurts more when I try to move,” you explained and she nodded. 

She pulled back the blankets and you nodded silently as she pulled up your hospital gown and began to check the wound. 

You looked over and Logan had his back turned to give you privacy, though he still stood close. 

Mark remained at the doorway with his arms crossed as he glared at Logan. 

“Are you even going to check on me or did you just come here to fight with Logan for trying to help me?” you asked Mark sharply. 

He sighed and made his way to you. He placed a hand on your shoulder. 

“Are you okay?” he asked. 

You nodded. 

Jean finished her check up and gave you strict orders to stay in bed for the remainder of the day as she would come check on you again in a few hours. You thanked her and watched her walk out, Logan followed her to reportedly ask her more questions about your well-being. 

“I think you should come stay with me for a while. Y’know, get away from all this once the Doc clears you,” Mark said. 

“What? No. This is my home,” you said quickly. 

“Who else is going to take care of you?” he said. 

“Me,” Logan said as he strode back into the room. 

“Why are you always fucking here man? Can I not have a conversation with my girlfriend without you constantly being here?” Mark snapped- his voice too loud. 

Logan gritted his teeth and you sat up quickly without thinking - opening your mouth to interrupt, to prevent the situation from escalating, but instead you whimpered in pain. 

Logan was at your side in an instant, his hand on your arm. 

“Careful,” he murmured and you nodded at him with tears in your eyes. 

“Lay back down, hun,” Mark said with a hand on your other shoulder. 

Jean came back in at the commotion and ordered Logan out of the room despite his protests. 

You watched him with longing as he exited the room, upset that your source of comfort was leaving. 

“Now, are you going to behave?” Jean said sternly at Mark. 

“Yes ma’am,” he mumbled as he sat in the chair beside your bed. 

“Do you want something for the pain?” Jean asked with concern. As you looked at her you knew she knew the truth, that your pain was not only physical. 

You nodded and sighed in relief as the medication she gave you worked quickly and you were pulled into unconsciousness once more. 

———

You woke this time to Jean and the Professor at your bedside. 

Jean was checking monitors and Charles sat beside you. 

“Where is he?” you asked as you looked around the room and couldn’t find him. 

“Just outside, he’ll be right back,” Jean reassured with a pat on your arm. 

Jean went about checking your wound as Charles filled you in on the status of official X-Men business since you’d been preoccupied with not dying the past couple of days. 

The door opened, you looked up hopefully, and couldn’t quite hide how your face fell as Mark walked through the door. 

You felt unmoored without the quiet steady presence of Logan. He was the calm in your storm, your anchor when life became overwhelming, and you needed the reassurance of him in this moment. 

“That was not the ‘he’ she was talking about,” Charles whispered to Jean. 

“You’re awake!” Mark said. 

You nodded. 

“Logan will be back in about an hour,” Jean whispered in your ear and you squeezed her hand to thank her, your heart already feeling less heavy at the thought of his return soon. 

But part of you wondered why he would want to leave your side. 

———-

“I’ve never been so bored in my entire life,” you complained to Jean after another day of laying in the hospital bed in her medical lab. 

Logan snorted and muttered, “How do you think I feel?” 

“At least you get to leave,” you said with a laugh. 

“I’m trying to entertain you right now,” he teased. 

You glared at him over the cards in your hands. 

“Go fish,” you said. 

He rolled his eyes and placed a card down on the table in front of you. 

“I thought you were playing poker?” Jean asked with a laugh. 

“I’m trying to teach her poker, but she’s a terrible student,” Logan said. 

“Maybe you’re just a terrible teacher!” you said with a laugh. 

“Alright, I hate to interrupt,” Jean said, “but I am officially clearing you to go to your own room. You’re still to be bedridden until further notice, but you can be in your own room rather than my lab.” 

“YES!” you yelled and everyone laughed with you. 

A few minutes later, Logan held you in his arms as he carefully carried you across the mansion and to your room. 

You melted into his embrace as you rested your head against his chest. 

“Are you still going to keep me company?” you asked. 

His hands squeezed you a little tighter. 

“Of course, always,” he said, his voice slightly rougher. 

You looked up at him and were breathless at the way he looked down at you, with so much affection in his gaze. 

“Do you think I should break up with Mark?” you blurted out. 

The Wolverine stumbled slightly, his mouth open in surprise. 

He opened the door of your bedroom and carefully laid you on the bed. You smiled as he even took the care to tuck you in underneath your blankets. 

“I think that’s up to you, petal,” he said finally once you were settled and he sat on the edge of the bed. 

You bit your lip as you looked up at him. His fingers grazed your cheekbone. 

Your breathing quickened. 

“Every night since I was hurt I’ve dreamt of it. The panic in your voice is what haunts me the most,” you whispered. 

You knew you were crossing carefully drawn lines, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. 

“This isn’t how I was going to do this, but yeah. I think you should break up with that asshole. Be with me. Baby, my heart has belonged to you for a long time now,” he said as he cupped the side of your face. 

Your breathing quickened as warmth filled your entire body, flowers grew from and bloomed from all of the pots and planters in your room as you grinned up at him. 

“Really?” you asked bashfully. 

He was still smiling as his lips brushed against yours. Your breath hitched and he pulled back just enough that his nose grazed against yours. At the tilt of your head, his plush lips were on yours again. 

You sunk your fingers into his thick soft hair and he groaned against your lips. His tongue swept your bottom lip which prompted you to open up to him. As you allowed him in, as his tongue tangled with your own, you let out a soft whine at the taste of him. 

This only led him to kiss you deeper- with more fervency- and his hand moved from your cheek to gently brush the skin of your neck. 

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, surged upward to shift closer to him- to feel more of his body against yours- then winced at the pain in your abdomen. He pulled back immediately and looked at you in concern. 

“I’m okay,” you assured him as you cupped his cheek. “Best I’ve ever felt, really.” 

He smiled and pressed a gentle much-more-tame kiss to your lips that you savored before he pulled back. 

“I need to let you rest,” he said. 

You grabbed his hand, “Stay with me?” 

“Always,” he promised and the whole world felt like it was in bloom. 

[bittertasteofhoney]

Good Day Sunshine | Ch. 4

Barely on My Mind

Summary: Throwing punches is what Joel knows best, but between bloody lips and rosy cheeks, you back further away from him. Some light Ellie interference might fix things.

|| so much angst I’m so sorry, physical violence, jackson!joel, jackson!tommy, jackson!joel x f!reader, our slow burn is building peeps, we all knew aggressive Joel had to come out sometime, little Ellie interference||

Notes: I went back and forth a lot on this chapter behind the scenes, so I hope you like it! Prepare for domestic FLUFF in the next chapter.

The characters, names and characterizations belong to HBO Max and The Last of Us franchise. This work is my creative property and aside from re-blogs and shares, I do not give permission to share or copy my work without permission or consent.

Previous Chapter.

You twisted around in Roberta’s arms to see Joel on top of Roddy and Tommy running over to pull his brother off the young patrolman. Roberta’s arms squeezed tight around you, making sure you don’t try to run into the fray. The panic you felt from being cornered just moments before bubbled up, and you felt your breath coming in quick bursts. 

The pair twisted, getting closer to the fire, and you felt a shout rip from your throat. Everyone around you acted quickly to prevent the already hostile situation from escalating to something past heartbreaking.

Tommy wrapped his arms around his brother and hauled him off. You couldn’t see Joel’s face, but you saw him spit on the ground just in front of Roddy’s form, which was curled into the fetal position. The younger man looked up, and you finally saw his bloodied lip and cheek, which quickly swelled over his right eye. He looked at you with his good eye and scoffed.

“God, you aren’t even worth this shit.” Again, Joel tried to lunge but Tommy caught him and twisted him away from Roddy so Daniel and a few of the other guys could help him up and separate the two morons.

Joel stood panting for a few seconds before searching for you. When his eyes landed on your horrified look behind him, you didn’t even let him get a word in before you removed Roberta’s grasp and turned away from the bonfire down the road. You heard a scuffle behind you, presumably the two brothers arguing, but you didn’t care to look back.

You picked up on footsteps behind you a few seconds later and quickened your step. Again, more shuffling. You stopped short and whirled around to see Joel panting and standing just a breath behind you. Without thinking, you held a hand out to push him away, and he tried to grab your wrist, but you ripped it away. 

“Where do you get off acting like that?!” His eyebrows creased in confusion. You took a deep breath to center yourself, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t control the horrified look on your face. “Joel, why did you do that?! You could’ve seriously hurt him!” An annoyed look crossed his face. 

He also tried to take a breath, but like you, he couldn’t keep a lid on his emotions, so both of you stood there, panting and glaring at each other. After a few seconds of no answers from him, you met his eyes again. The intensity staring back at you almost knocked the wind out of you. He looked ready to kill someone.

“He had his hands on you and this look in his eye-” A frustrated huff. “You clammed up and I didn’t think. And then the idiot kept running his mouth.”

“Oh, so you’re the only one who can say ugly things about me?” The words left your mouth before you even had a moment to process them. His gaze shifted to the ground in the same breath that yours widened. You almost wanted to apologize, but why? Despite the ugly delivery, it was true. So again, the two of you stood in palpable silence, not knowing whether to continue poking the bear or walk away.

“I’m trying to keep my distance, Joel. I know we came to some sort of truce. But what you said just keeps whirling around in my mind. I know you’re sorry, and clearly, it’s brought out some protective side of you, but I don’t need your help. I don’t need you fixing my house or acting like some savior.” You narrowed your eyes at him as he continued to study the dirt path. 

He brought a hand to his face to swipe at his mouth, which you just realized was bleeding. I guess Roddy somehow got a measly punch in. Your name came out of his mouth in an almost pleading tone. 

“It’s fine. I’m a big girl. I’ll get over it. But please, you have to stop. Don’t feel obligated. Just go home. I’m fine.” 

“It’s not fine!” His voice rose a level, and he stepped closer to you, the two of you just a breath apart again. He reached a hand up but then seemed to think better of it, letting it drop. 

“Go home, Joel.” You saw anger flash through his eyes. The older Miller brother clearly had much more to say to you, but your quick gait back home didn’t give him much chance to fit anything else in.

He gave you a few minutes’ head start before following you home. Just to make sure you got inside alright.

Once again, gossip spread like wildfire. It’s safe to say that Ellie, Tommy and Maria all gave him a fair amount of shit for his actions. There was talk of the council coming to some sort of arrangement to issue punishment, but after a few testimonials from Roberta and Daniel on Joel’s behalf, everything was waived. It was clear Roddy was as much an instigator as Joel. Once Tommy heard about Roddy’s behavior, he immediately switched his patrol partner to Joel and assigned the young Casanova to ditch duty for the new expansion. Let him lick his wounds in mud and shit. 

Ellie took over picking up ration packages every week, and for a while, you went back to never crossing Joel’s path except in the mess hall. The residents of Jackson had a clear opinion on what went down that night at the bonfire, but no ire was ever directed your way. Roddy became the grunt mule of the town for a few weeks, and most people steered clear of Joel unless they needed help. 

It gave him a chance to keep to himself and stay busy. He didn’t want to think about how his grip still didn’t feel right after punching Roddy a handful of times and how the horrified look you gave him somehow wounded him further. You looked scared of him. 

Joel really would’ve flown off the handle had he seen the bruises that formed on your hips over the few days following the bonfire. Clearly defined fingertips decorated your sides for a week before beginning to fade. 

After weeks of no contact, Joel was wrapping up a day filled with more schoolhouse repairs when Ellie bounced into the construction site with Dina in tow. He quickly stood to usher the girls out of the dangerous zone, letting his rule-following contractor side direct their movements. 

The two girls were practically bouncing with excitement, and all Joel gave them in response was a lifted eyebrow. “Do I even want to ask?” 

In unison, “Can we go on night patrol?”

An immediate, “Absolutely not.” Boy, did he wish he realized what tsunami of excuses and prepared statements would come over him.

“Tommy will be going and it’s just around the border.”

“They’re bringing all of the potential recruits!”

“It’ll be completely safe!”

Joel was shaking his head so fast, it was a wonder his neck wasn’t falling off its hinge. “And since when did you become a recruit? Ellie, I told you no-”

“You can’t keep me in this bubble forever! C’mon, you know I know how to stay safe and watch my six and scan the perimeter and-”

“Ellie, I said no.” The glare that girl gave him made him wish she were young enough for a timeout.

“Joel.” She was gearing up for another round. “We came to Jackson to be a part of something. Every eligible kid is going. If we’re going to stay here, I need to learn how to do this.” He looked away from the pair. “Or else, why did we come back?”

It took everything in him not to look at her. She had no clue what happened before they got here and he’ll be damned if she ever did. “Fine.”

The two girls immediately reverted to their excited bouncing and chatter, which only stopped when Joel held up a hand. “You actin’ like you’re going to a concert isn’t helping your case. Go prep a pack and meet Tommy at his place. And Ellie,” His gaze sharpened. She gave him a knowing nod. 

“I know.” He nodded, trying to control the panicked breath rising. He watched them walk down the road to his house before returning to work.

On his walk home, he realized it was Wednesday. Shit. Wednesdays were the days Ellie was supposed to grab the rations. Fuck.

He just knew he was going to screw this up. 

You were knee-deep in squash plants when you heard an uncomfortable throat clearing. You peered up through your straw hat to see Joel Miller shifting uncomfortably on his feet, looking anywhere but your crouched form, only clothed by a pair of shorts, a cropped tee and work boots.  

You straightened, looking at him, surprised. “Joel? What are you doing here?”

He cleared his throat and said, “Just here to pick up our rations.” 

Again, a forced smile. He was so sick of seeing that. 

“I’ll grab someone to help you.” You stood and stretched before walking down the tilled path.

“Can you show me where to go?” You paused and looked over your shoulder at him. He looked nervous. You blinked again in surprise.

“I don’t think that’s the best idea. I’ll go get someone.” You seemed nervous, too, so he just nodded and looked at the ground.

The dejected look that crossed his face didn’t escape your notice, and a pause and a deep breath later, you quietly said, “I’ll show you.”

The two of you walked in awkward silence through the vegetable patches until you reached the greenhouse, which was home to the food reserves. Each offering was neatly categorized in bins with labels and seasonal marks. You spend a few minutes explaining the system, telling him he can pick anything he wants within reason and pointing out which offerings were low or almost gone for the season. 

He listened intently, grabbing an empty box from the pile next to the reserves and nodding. When you turned to leave, he finally spoke. “How’s your porch holding up? It givin’ you any trouble?”

You turned and smiled at him. “It’s holding steady.” 

He nodded and returned your small smile, “Good.”

 He began filling his box. You stood there for a moment watching, almost in shock. This was one of the first real civil conversations you had with him that didn’t result in him being rude or you feeling embarrassed. Or both. 

You watched for a few more moments to make sure he was good before turning away to return to picking and pruning. He didn’t let himself fully relax into the task until he heard your footsteps receding. After filling his box with enough greens to turn Ellie a different shade after the week was through, he retraced his path through the vegetable section to leave, throwing a well-rehearsed wave your way before exiting.

You smiled and laughed lightly to yourself before responding in turn. At least he was trying.

A few days later, you were leaving your house to head to work when you saw Ellie and Dina bounding down your walkway with matching smirks. You don’t think you’d ever had a chance to speak to Ellie, so seeing her in your yard both confused and intrigued you.

“Ellie? Dina? What are y’all doing here?” The two looked at each other before their two smirks grew.

“Just here to invite you to dinner tonight.” Your eyebrows rose.

“With the two of you? Aren’t you a little old for a babysitter?” Ellie shook her head slowly, that grin only growing.

“No. To dinner at our house. You. Me. Joel.” You leaned forward in shock and laughed, shaking your head. 

“Absolutely not.” It caught Ellie off guard how much you sounded like Joel then. 

“Oh, c’mon, please? He keeps forcing spinach down my throat and I know he’s trying, but his cooking is not good.” She threw you a startling rendition of gagging and nausea to play up her offer. 

Hell, if you weren’t already thinking about considering going. “Does Joel know about this?” 

“Of course!” The two girls answered in unison. Almost too quickly. 

“Right.” Your eyebrows stitched together. You looked at the ground, weighing your options. You could say no again, but that would only prompt the two girls to continue badgering you. Or you could just give in and brave a night at the Miller dinner table. 

How bad could it be?

Next Chapter.

Tag List :) @silksepia @hello-nah817 @longlivetheloneliness @keseqna @millers-girl @treacherqus @lemonboi

[honeybeefae]

hi coming in a lil early for Smutty Tuesday but hear me out:

Azriel with a size kink and a corruption kink - a reader who is shy, quiet, easily flustered.

They’re at some party or gathering, reader gets overwhelmed and decides to hide away in a room to read her /definitely not/ smutty romance book. Azriel finds her, finds out what she’s *reading* (he definitely teased her about and her blush gave it away) and whatever resolve or restraint he has just snaps at the idea of ruining her 🫠🫠🫠

*insert rubbing hands together evilly here*

Life Imitates Art (Azriel x Reader)

WARNINGS: Smut, 18+, Size Kink, Corruption Kink, Oral through Panties, Oral

The room you are hiding in offers you peace and quiet, something sorely lacking in the ballroom just down the hall. You were always easily overwhelmed, preferring to stick to the shadows and be the wallflower, so you are certain no was missing you as your fingers turn the page.

You feel your lips curl up in a shy smile as your eyes scan over the page, the vulgarity in the text making your heart race. Nesta certainly has an interesting collection of books...you would have to steal from the pile more often.

Everything around you disappeared as you delved further and further into the story, rubbing your thighs together at the unholy images racking your brain with each word. You were so engrossed that you didn't hear the door open nor the footsteps walking towards you.

A large, scarred hand fell between the pages, and it made you jump. Your face went as red as a tomato as you saw the infamous Shadowsinger above you.

"I knew there was someone missing from the party..." He murmurs, hazel eyes dark as you try to snap your book shut. His hand prevents it though, fingers curling against the bottom and pulling it easily out of your grasp.

"Wait, that's-" You try to reach for it, but he clicks his tongue, giving you a warning glance before turning to read.

"His fingers curled inside me, touching me in places that I had dreamed of him caressing," Azriel's voice was pure sex as he smirked, enjoying the way you shrank into the chair from embarrassment. "I could only see his eyes as he watched me between my legs, his hot breath fanning across my c-"

"Stop!" You plead, covering your ears. "Please, I get it, just don't read further."

"What's wrong, Y/N? You were just reading this yourself, were you not?" He teased, snapping the book shut with a loud thud. "Why are you so embarrassed now?"

You groan and cover your face, shaking your head to try and see if this is simply a dream. However, when you peek through your fingers, Azriel was still there, watching you.

"Did you like it?"

"Az, I didn't mean for you to find me reading-" You protest until he leans forward even more, both of his hands bracing on the arm of the large lounge chair and caging you in.

"That's not what I asked you, little mouse. Answer me." His tone is authoritative, shivers running down your spine as you crane your head back to look him in the eyes.

"I...yes, yes, I liked it." Your voice is barely above a whisper as you see his jaw clench, the fabric of the chair crunching from how hard his grip had gotten.

"Was that so hard?" He asked, gaze falling briefly to your lips before back up to your eyes. "I didn't know a girl like you read those kinds of books. I wonder what else I don't know about you..."

One of his hands came up to rest against the column of your throat, his eyes lighting up with enjoyment at the way you swallowed at the contact. Your breath hitched when he knelt in front of you, his hands falling to your thighs and spreading them with ease.

"Have you ever been tasted before?" Azriel murmurs, slowly bunching your skirts up your leg to reveal more and more skin.

You felt like you were going to faint as your brain tried to catch up with what was happening, confused as to how this had escalated so quickly but not at all upset.

"Y/N." He calls, pinching your thigh and making you squeak. "Answer me when I ask you a question. Have you?"

"N-No, I've never...I've never done anything like this..." You mumble.

Azriel stops at the top of your thigh, his eyes closing for a brief moment as his nostrils flare. You try to sit up, worried you've upset him, but gasp when he all but shoves you back down into the chair.

It takes him a moment to speak again, his gaze fully concentrated between your legs where your panties were just starting to become visible. You swear you saw him shaking, his wings extending as he finally stops when he reveals yourself fully.

"Little mouse..." He moans, wrapping both of his arms under your thighs and yanking you forward until your ass was hanging off the end of the seat. "I can't wait to ruin you."

He immediately licks a long stripe over your lace underwear, his spit soaking through as the sensation sends your body buzzing. You whimper as he eats you out through the thin material, making sure to soak your entire underwear as you wiggle and roll your hips.

When he's had enough teasing, he moves his hand to each side of your hip and rips through them like paper, wasting no time in getting back to feasting on your pussy. Your fingers grasp his short hair, your eyes squeezing shut as your pleasure only increases.

"Oh, Az, please!" You gasp, back arching when he hums his praises of your vocalizations. "Fuck!"

"That's it, pretty girl," He moans, sucking and nibbling on your clit as his ring finger circles around your entrance. "Scream for me."

As he gives you another particularly hard suck that makes you see stars, he also pushes his finger into you. You moan loudly, walls clamping down on the intrusion as he curses.

"Stars, you are so fucking tight," Azriel hisses, thrusting in and out. "I can't wait to stretch you out, princess. To see this tiny cunt swallow me whole."

"I want it," You whine, looking down at him desperately. "I want you so bad, please I can't take much more."

There was the familiar feeling of your orgasm building, but it felt so much more intense than you were used to. You didn't have control over your body or your words as pleas and whines flow out like water.

"You can and you will." He snarls, pulling away as he adds a second finger and starts scissoring you open. "You'll take everything I give you. Do you know why?"

You shake your head, your clothes feeling too tight on your skin as he curls his fingers and hits that spot that makes you scream.

"Because this is mine." Azriel curls his fingers again, bringing you that much closer to the edge. "Your cries, your moans, your pleasure, it is mine and mine only. Only I can give you this, bring you to this point, and you'll take it and thank me."

"Yes, only you!" You repeat, barely coherent, as you start to clench around his fingers. He adds a third one, coming back to hover his mouth over your clit.

"Do you want to cum, mouse? Want to make a mess all over this chair, my fingers, my face?" He taunts you, watching as your cheeks heat up again from his words. "I want to hear you say it before you cum."

"Az, please!" You cry, hips bucking as he starts to flick your bud with the tip of his tongue. However, your words fall on deaf ears as he waits for you to give in, to speak those filthy thoughts aloud.

Shame will come to swallow you whole at a later time, your pleasure fogging your mind until all you can think of is Azriel's tongue, fingers, cock...

"I want to cum! I want to cum on your fingers, on your cock, I don't care!" Your voice breaks as he keeps you on edge, his pupils blown wide as he watches you fall from your pedestal of innocence and into his awaiting arms. "Please, please, please. I need it, I need you-I just-"

You can't finish your sentence as he mumbles against your sopping cunt and starts curling his fingers again, licking your clit just right to send you falling into an abyss of carnal rapture.

Your entire body seizes up, your mouth falling open to silently scream. He continues to fuck you through it, prolonging your pleasure as tears form in the corner of your eyes. You had touched yourself before, had made yourself cum, but it never felt this powerful.

Azriel watches you, his breathing ragged as you look at him with hazy eyes. It takes you a moment to realize he had picked you up and was carrying you out of the room and up the stairs, your head resting against his chest.

"Where are you taking me?" You ask hoarsely.

"To my room. I told you you'd take all of it, Y/N, and that doesn't just mean an orgasm."

[isak-dot-gov]

Communication

Pairing: Rhea Ripley x Reader

Word count: 1281

My Masterlist :)

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The argument started over something trivial, something that shouldn’t have been as big as it now was, but with the pent-up tension between you and Rhea, it quickly escalated. You’d always been reserved, used to handling things alone, bottling up emotions because that’s what you’d known. Growing up, you’d always been the odd one out—the youngest by a lot, with siblings much older who never quite understood you or took the time to try. So you learned early on to keep things to yourself, never expecting others to help, never even thinking about opening up. But Rhea was different, and that difference was what you loved and what scared you the most.

As her voice grew louder, frustration clear in her eyes, you tried to hold back, to keep calm and prevent things from going any further. But your deflection only made it worse.

“Why won’t you just talk to me?” Rhea demanded, her hands clenched into fists. “I tell you everything about myself. You know all my issues, my history, the things that haunt me. I’ve trusted you with it all. But you… I feel like I know nothing about what’s going on with you.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Rhea.” You mumbled, hugging your arms to your chest. You looked down, feeling like a child again, misunderstood, alone, just waiting for the conversation to be over.

She sighed heavily. “I want you to open up, to let me in. I hate feeling like I’m the only one who’s here. This relationship is supposed to go both ways, you know? But every time I try to be there for you, it’s like… it’s like I hit a wall.”

You could see the pain in her eyes, but you didn’t know what to do. The words were trapped inside you. Rhea was right; you hadn’t opened up about your struggles or your past because, for you, that was just how you lived. It felt as though the world was only safe if you kept certain parts of yourself locked up.

“Look, I don’t need you to fix everything, but I need you to trust me enough to tell me what’s going on with you. I want to be someone you can lean on, not just… some girl you agree with until I stop asking.”

You swallowed, feeling a rush of guilt. That was exactly what you’d been doing. It wasn’t that you didn’t care—far from it. Rhea was the most important person in your life, someone who you wanted desperately to hold on to. But letting her in, truly letting her in, was so foreign, so terrifying.

“Yeah, okay, fine.” The words came out sharper than you intended. “You’re right.”

Her expression fell, replaced by a look of dismay and hurt. “Are you serious right now? You’re just… saying that because you want to end the conversation.”

You had no reply. It was true; agreeing with her was easier than actually engaging with the uncomfortable emotions stirring inside. The silence between you stretched, tense and heavy, until Rhea finally threw up her hands, her voice thick with disappointment.

“You know what? I’m done with this for now. I need space. I can’t… I can’t do this if you don’t want to let me in.”

She grabbed her jacket, her keys, and with one last, lingering look, she left, leaving you alone in the dim quiet of the room.

As the door closed, you felt that familiar pang of loneliness, a pain you knew too well. But this time, it was sharper, different. This was Rhea—someone who *wanted* to know you, who’d reached out to you over and over, only to be shut down. It hurt, knowing you’d made her feel like she didn’t matter to you, when the truth was the exact opposite. Rhea mattered more than anything. And now, she’d walked out because you couldn’t give her that vulnerability, couldn’t open up the way she needed.

You sat in the quiet, trying to ignore the ache in your chest, but it wouldn’t go away. It gnawed at you, until finally, you grabbed your phone. Your fingers hovered over the screen, unsure of what to say, but eventually, you managed to type: Can we talk? When you’re ready. I’ll try to explain. I don’t want to lose you.

The hours ticked by painfully slowly until, finally, a message pinged back: Okay. I’ll be back tonight. Just be honest with me, baby, please.

When Rhea walked back in, her eyes were rimmed with red, her expression softer but guarded. She sat down next to you on the couch, and the silence stretched on as you both grappled for the right words.

Finally, you took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I know I haven’t been fair to you. You deserve someone who… who can open up, who can talk about things.” You paused, unsure how to continue. “Growing up, I was the youngest by a lot. My siblings were so much older than me, and I was just… the kid in the background. It was like no one ever cared what I was going through, you know? They had their own lives, their own problems, and I was just… there.”

Rhea’s gaze softened as you spoke, listening intently, hanging on every word. You could tell that this was what she had wanted—an opening, a chance to understand you better.

“So, I guess… I got used to it,” you continued, your voice barely a whisper. “To not sharing, to not expecting people to care. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. But somewhere along the way, I stopped asking for help because I didn’t think anyone would really want to listen. I thought keeping things to myself was just… easier.”

Rhea reached over, taking your hand gently in hers, her thumb brushing over your knuckles. “But you’re not alone now,” she said, her voice full of warmth and a quiet strength that made your heart ache. “I’m here, and I want to be here for you. You don’t have to be that lonely kid anymore. But I need you to trust me, darling.”

You nodded, feeling a lump in your throat as the weight of her words settled over you. “I know. I want to try for you. I just… I don’t always know how to talk about what’s going on inside my head. It’s like there’s this barrier, and I don’t know how to break it.”

“Then let me help,” Rhea whispered, leaning closer, her hand tightening around yours. “I’m not asking you to change overnight, but I want you to try. Just… a little bit at a time. Let me be here for you, even if it’s messy or awkward. Let me in, and we’ll figure it out together.”

You looked up, meeting her gaze, and for the first time in a long while, you felt a glimmer of hope. “Thank you,” you murmured, your voice cracking slightly. “For being so patient. I know I haven’t made it easy.”

Rhea shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Hey, you’re worth it. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t believe in us. Just… promise me that next time, instead of shutting down, you’ll at least try to tell me what’s going on.”

You nodded, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the weight of loneliness that had shadowed you began to lift, replaced by something warmer, something new. And in that moment, with Rhea’s hand in yours, you felt like maybe, just maybe, you could learn to open up, one small step at a time. Because for her—for both of you—this love was worth the effort.

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[youraverageaemondsimp]

Metanoia ;

Aemond Targaryen x Transmigrated!Strong!Reader

>> Chapter VI : The End of the Beginning.

Summary: Things begin to quickly escalate.

WARNINGS: canon typical incest, angst, grief, mentions of child loss, aegon is a dick.

A/N: divider creds to @cafekitsune

<- prev // masterlist // next ->

Everything was moving way too quick for your liking. You thought your marriage pact to Aemond would prevent the war, yet it seems like it's inevitable. You felt nothing but despair watching Aegon walk through the crowd of people, for his coronation.

You knew what was next, Rhaenys would burst through the doors and leave right after threatening them, so you wait anxiously, standing next to Aemond.

But nothing happens.

Rhaenys didn't appear and the coronation went smoothly.

What was happening?

You were escorted back to the castle with guards around you till you reached your room, knowing that the blacks would try to come get you any moment. The greens were on guard.

A few days passed since then, Rhaenys’ absence shocked you the most. You had written a letter to your mother, informing your mother of the happenings.

You paced around your chamber restlessly, anxious about how the story is developing, it seems that your interference made everything worse.

Perhaps it was always meant to be this way, for everyone to be doomed. You thought of Luke, Aemond, Helaena, and all the lives that were taken away because of this war.

You never really acknowledged how real everything was until you felt the taste of potential calamity. Your head snaps to the side when the doors burst open, the guards rushing in and grabbing you.

“W—What are you doing?!” You yell, trying to fight the guards but they say nothing, dragging you out of your chambers by force and out into the hallway.

You are brought down to where the dungeons are, below the castle before being thrown into one as the guards lock the door. You look at Ser Cole who was one of the people that guard you down here. He looked at you with a mockery of pity.

“It was the King's orders.” He speaks, noticing the need for closure in your eyes. Your eyes widened at the truth, lips trembling as you felt useless. Unable to change anything, if in fact everything is more shit.

“What about Aemond? I need to speak to him right now!” You cry out, and Ser Cole shakes his head, “He had called off the betrothal with you.” Those words felt a stab to your heart.

He called it off? No it definitely couldn't be.

Aemond wouldn't do that without consulting you first.

But deep down, you feared that it would be the truth, cause the body you're in believes that to be the case. He was a man stuck to his duty after all.

“Your betrothal to Y/N should be annulled immediately.” Aegon's voice booms through the small council as he sits there on the chair, somehow making coherent decisions. Aemond had just walked in then, immediately being met with a command.

“Why?” Aemond asks in disbelief, his eyebrows furrowed. “I can not, she is— I do not wish to.” Aemond affirms his decision standing tall against at the end of the table, seeming as though he was the king, making decisions.

Aegon scoffed, “You dare defy the king? But I will excuse you, for you are my brother. I'm aware that cunt must've felt good. But it isn't beneficial for the war.” Aegon spews comically, expecting everyone to laugh with him but no one does. Alicent shifts uncomfortably in her seat as she watches the interaction between her sons.

Aemond grits his teeth, his anger oozing off him, suffocating everyone in the room. He clenches his fists, nails digging into his palm as he tries to not move impulsively.

“Aegon, is right.” Alicent interferes, not making eye contact with Aemond. “Marrying her will not do any good. We must use this to gain allies. Besides, who knows what Rhaenyra might do. Now that her child is with us.” She simply states, avoiding the gaze of Aemond.

His eyes darted around the room, everybody was silent.

His mind ran wild, as he stood there still, thinking of the possibilities, thinking about everything.

He swallowed a tight lump in his throat, and the next words that left his mouth, betrayed both himself and you.

“I understand.”

————————————————————————

Rhaenyra's sobs fill the room as she clutches her head, her council looking upon her. “I can't lose another child. I'm afraid I cannot bear it.” She quivers, her body still traumatized from losing her unborn child.

She refers to you. “My baby, I can not. lose. her. again.” her mind fills with the memories of you being asleep for many years, the nights she's spent by your side hoping you'd wake up.

“I am not a good mother, am I? Daemon. I left my child in the viper's nest, even though you were against it.” Rhaenyra stared at Daemon, her mind in shambles. He gazed in silence at her. She was going mad. She couldn't keep calm.

“Those traitors! How could they? Has there been any other letter from her?” She asks as soon as a guard walks in, the one who she planted as a spy.

“The princess has been thrown into the dungeons,” those words were enough to send Rhaenyra spiralling out of control, as she yelled at everyone to take immediate action. She will burn down the city if she needs to.

“And it seems that they have called off the betrothal.” He finishes and Daemon scoffs. “Those cunts.” Daemon mutters underneath his breath.

“We must wait.” Jacaerys speaks up, unable to see his mother spiral like this. “Mother, I am aware that you are worried about our sister, but we need to deal with this sensitively.” He tries to be the voice of reason for her. Luke joins in, holding his mother by her hand and she stares at the both of them before calming down.

Rhaenyra's eyes darken as the last of her tears fell down her cheek. Her mind reeling up a plan, before she toughens up and focuses on the matter before her.

————————————————————————

Aemond left the keep on his horse, going to the forest where Vhagar was sleeping soundly. He goes near her, grazing her sides and she wakes up, feeling her rider near her.

He climbs on top of her, knowing the direction he was meant to go. And so he does, flying off in the direction.

The duty felt heavy on his shoulders, but the betrayal even worse, you must be so confused on what is going on. After the betrothal with the baratheon, he will fly back to you and explain everything.

Yes, it is what he will do.

You probably felt lonely, all alone in your chamber, he should've probably told more guards to protect you before he left but he shakes his head, hoping that you'd be alright.

Ironic how far he was from the truth. He had no idea that you were currently suffering in the dungeons.

The gut feeling was malicious, warning him that he is doing something wrong, but he tried shaking it off. It wouldn't budge. It got so worse to the point he felt nauseous.

He thinks for a minute.

His eye hardens as he takes deep breaths, the weight of betrayal suddenly lifting off, and the pressure of duty fade into nothingness as he commands Vhagar to fly the other direction, spinning her around.

To dragonstone it is.

@gabriella-aesthetic @delaynew @idonotknowenglish @dixie-elocin @intheheartoftheking @dracaryxzs @ladyoffandoms @zoleea-exultant @saturnssrings @uniquecutie-puffs @aleemendoza2425-blog @marvelita85 @feelingfaye @sylvievil @cypherpt5fttaehyung @ttysmfwna @void21 @technicallystrangereview @feyresqueen @evergreen9083 @mirandasidefics @org12 @blorbo-brainrot @thisishwrworld @shadowqueen09 @watermel0nsugarhigh @cottoncandyclouds-stuff @madislayyy @the-hufflebird-girl @hiatuswhore @whompwhompsthings @debesteimanetje

[on-a-lucky-tide]

im so so sorry if you don’t wanna think about this because you have every right not to, just don’t answer or whatever

but have you got any words of encouragement for trans people of all ages in the uk?

We beat Section 28 and we will beat this. It's very likely that the UKSC will be in direct conflict with Article 8 and the ECHR will spank it when it's eventually escalated by the Good Law Project. Hopefully Stonewall will get off its arse as well, useless fucking cunt the new guy is.

1. If you're in school, get your head down. Stop wasting your time playing label discourse on Tumblr and study your arse off. Education is the great equaliser, the liberator. The more educated you are, the more options you have; at home, and definitely abroad. If you can get a second language, do it.

2. Get fit. Do something within your physical capacity to improve your fitness. Walking and lifting is the best combo. If you can, take up self defence. It will make you feel more empowered. If you know you can throat punch a cunt, you will feel less frightened.

3. Do not comply in advance. At the moment, there is no law that blanket bans you from spaces that match your gender identity. None. Zero. Zilch. It's hyperbole from terfs. Continue to use those spaces. Be calm, be private. Bottom line: average normies do not give a shit about you (positive), and terfs are more interested in appearing victims. Smirk at them and walk away. If they lay a hand on you, see point 2.*

4. If the police give you an instruction, you ask: "under what power?" They must tell you the legal basis. Try to remember or record the section and act they mention. If they are unable to give you the law, then do not comply. You do not have to legally carry any ID in the UK, by the way, so don't volunteer it. (They were IDing people for toilets in Edinburgh. Do not comply with this.)

5. Walking into the "wrong space" is trespass. You won't be arrested, you will be asked to leave.

6. Give yourself space to feel sad and angry, but you keep your fucking head up. They want you to give up. They want you back in the closet. Letting them take your happiness is letting them win. But there is nothing more gratifying than one of those rancid pieces of shit throwing every slur and threat at you, and then just going "nah, get to fuck". They're currently shrieking on social media demanding "apologies" from everyone and their mum because they know they're hated. They know no "victory" will make them decent people again.

We do not comply with fascism. Ever.

* In the UK, the law permits individuals to use reasonable force in self-defense, or in the defense of others, to prevent crime, or to protect property. The key is that the force used must be proportionate to the threat and the defendant genuinely believed it was necessary. The Criminal Justice and Immigration Act 2008 clarifies this, emphasizing that the reasonableness of force is determined by the circumstances as the defendant genuinely believed them to be. "Based on the current wave of anti-trans extremism in the UK, it was my genuine and honest belief that I was in danger and I acted to defend myself from harm."

[liketolaugh-writes]

There’s something that comes up a lot in fandom discourse, and it surprises me how few people seem to understand it. It comes up in criticisms of parents and other authority figures, and it’s a fundamental failure to understand that sometimes, children cannot be controlled.

It sounds bad when I put it like that, right? But that’s the underlying mentality to a lot of arguments, is that kids should not have the ability to endanger themselves. And… it doesn’t exactly work like that.

Here’s the thing.

Kids can walk away at any time.

There is nothing stopping a child from opening the front door and leaving the house.

There is nothing stopping a child from leaving school.

There is nothing stopping a child from running away from summer camp.

So what do you do, then, if a child just… keeps doing that?

“Talk them out of it” okay but they keep doing it. “Convince them to stop” they can’t. This isn’t a video game and there is no walkthrough. Parents do not know the magic dialogue combinations that will make their kid open up to them.

Most kids, obviously, are not like this! They like home and they like having food and a bed. But it happens sometimes, and sometimes not even because the parents are genuinely just bad.

I’m thinking of three specific fandom arguments when I say this (even if I do mean it more generally)-

> Camp Half-Blood should have had a fence to keep kids (Nico) from running away.

> No. What is this, a prison? Guys, summer camps usually don’t have fences. If they do it’s to keep people out, not kids in. This is a weird thing to do.

> Annabeth’s father (PJO) should have been able to stop her from running away.

> How? What mechanisms can you possibly think he could have devised to prevent Annabeth fucking Chase from leaving? Guys, I need to emphasize. Kids can literally just walk out the front door. They just don’t, usually.

> (Yes, he could have been a better father, that’s a different question altogether and not the point here. ‘He wasn’t able to stop Annabeth from leaving’ is the point under discussion.)

> X should have simply stopped their kid from being a bully.

> And if you keep punishing them and they keep bullying, what do you do then? If you escalate as far as you feel ethically able to? ‘They will stop’ is a bs assumption. Sometimes they don’t.

I’ve seen this in other places that I can’t think of right now, but the takeaway I’m trying to set up here is: kids are primarily controlled by social convention. Sometimes, that isn’t enough.

[meowmeowriley]

Unhinged and unnecessary HC to rationalize the punk Ghost skin incoming!

It's not Ghost. Ta da! Listen. Listen. I understand. Ghost, being someone devoted to the crown, wouldn't wear the anarchy symbol. And if given the comic backstory (as I always will) Ghost most likely would hate punk music because of his father.

So why punk Ghost? It's not Ghost. It's his son. His and Johnny's. Maybe he's blood, maybe not. Doesn't really matter. They raised the boy. He's theirs. And he resents the crown and the military for how it broke his fathers. Maybe he lost them both, either together or at different times. Maybe they died in the field, or in the hospital due to complications from an injury they got on the job. Maybe they didn't even die, they were injured and dismissed and tossed aside like trash. Whatever the reason, he's angry.

So he joins up with some men who stand for everything his fathers didn't. Fuck their militaristic peace bullshit. It starts small, protests and parties mostly. But then as he finds himself getting closer with the others, he's asked to take part in some extracurriculars. Raids on police and military caravans. Harmless, he tells himself. Good even, they're preventing those in power from enforcing their tyranny, he rationalizes. Things get more radical the longer he's in. Things escalate. He's in too deep. They're a resistance group. They fight back. He looks back on the combat training his fathers pushed on him at a young age more fondly now, as it served him and his purposes well.

He doesn't see how he's exactly like his fathers, won't let himself. But he is. Just a man who follows orders and fights tooth and nail. But he does love his fathers. He misses them. He takes up Simon's mask and Johnny's hairstyle, incorporates them into his look. Makes them his own. An attempt to honor them, despite their different stances on how to do good.

A mission, he's stopped hating when they're referred to as missions a while ago, has himself and his team breaking into a military research facility to investigate and destroy what they found. A new weapon to hurt innocent people, he was sure. Except it wasn't, exactly.

Teleportation? Couldn't be real. He read the files with an air of disbelief. He was distracted, rookie mistake, a scientist gave him a shove, he fell into the teleporter. The man shouted something about finally having a human test subject and slapped his hand down on a button. A flash of blinding light enveloped him, and suddenly he found himself in a hallway. Disoriented, he walked about, trying to figure out where he was.

A man in a bucket hat rounded the corner ahead of him and stopped, looking him up and down with an exasperated sigh. "Ghost what the fuck are you wearing this time?" Ghost. His dad's callsign. This man thought he was his dad. What would his dad do in this situation.

He narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms. That should do it. Thankfully his sleeves were down covering his tattoos. They were different from Simon's and could've given him away.

"Whatever. Come on then." The man kept walking and he did his best to imitate Simon's walk. His mind raced, an obvious military man thought he was his own dad was worrisome, as the old man was gone, and he needed to get away without arousing suspicion. He'd have to play along then.

That plan went tits up the second he followed the bucket hat man into a room and found himself face to face with his fathers. His fathers who were able bodied and young, same age as himself.

The teleporter hadn't just sent him somewhere else, but had sent him back in time as well.

Johnny roughly ripped off his mask and slammed him against the wall. "Who the FUCK are you?!" Simon menacingly slid a knife out of his sleeve and deftly twirled it around his fingers. Right. They weren't his dads yet, just the crowns attack dogs.

[jammatown919]

Kinda baffles me when I see takes that seem to think Yaz and Sammy broke up out of anger or because they were questioning their love for each other, because that’s just not what we saw.

Yes, they were upset with each other, but that’s not WHY they broke up. Despite how frustrated they were with each other, they were consistently trying to work it out (unsuccessfully because they kept approaching it wrong, but still) and Sammy seemed like she was going to accept them doing their separate things without officially breaking up or putting their relationship on hold or anything of the sort.

The thing that made them actually look at things and decide to take a step back from each other was the realization that they were hurting each other and with the current circumstances they didn’t know how to stop. They didn’t break up because they were mad. They didn’t break up because they weren’t sure they still loved each other. They separated to prevent the situation from escalating, because they saw toward the end of the most recent argument what they were doing to each other.

A lot of things got thrown onto the table at the very end of that conversation. Yaz called Sammy out for not being willing to give people a second chance. Sammy made Yaz aware that she’s still upset about Wyoming. And they still have the Brooklynn situation hanging over them. It’s a lot to deal with, and they realized that tensions were running too high and there were too many pressing matters for them to be able to deal with it right then and there without making the situation worse. So they walked away, to protect each other.

They separated BECAUSE they love each other enough to know when they need to leave each other be until they’re ready to deal with things productively.

[unfriedough]

Hi super sorry if your request aren’t open.

I had this thought about Zuko x waterbending reader and maybe they could be related to Hama (like a grandma or something) and r basically it’s difficult to explain but Zuko and reader started dating after the war and he tries really hard to get Hamas approval because he’s from the fire nation and Hama ends up sorta accepting him but is still hella weary about him

‘Dinner’- Zuko x female!reader

An: HIYA! So as to not be annoying I’m leaving my lil disappearance explanation at the bottom, enjoy 🫶

(As usual, thank you for your request and patience it means a lot 💕)

Warnings: fighting/agression but it’s brief dw (this is also a very short piece)

You smiled as a candle flickered in your room, kicking your feet as you read a letter your boyfriend, Zuko, wrote to you. He detailed in it his most recent endeavours as a fire lord, as well as affirmed that he could in fact come for a visit. You had been planning to move to his palace soon, as per his request, but he was afraid your grandmother, Hama, a ruthless fire nation hating blood bender who might just hate Zuko, would not be on board. You decided the easiest way was to have them both over for food, and you’d prepared a huge feast of different delicacies of both nations. Zuko was meant to arrive in about an hour, and Hama was already down stairs washing up. She vaguely knew you were going to introduce her to someone, just not entirely aware of who. You shoved the scroll into another backpack you packed for your move, which was supposed to take place a week from now if all goes well.

You walked over to the window sill and sat on a cushion you placed on the protruding wooden part, sighing. You wandered in an endless maze of thoughts, until a face appeared in front of you. You squeaked, almost falling backwards but you caught yourself. Shaking your head, you unlocked the window and pulled zuko in.

“Dude?” You questioned, pulling him in for a hug.

He smelled like the sea, you noted, originally expecting the smell of a certain beast on him.

“Sorry- I got nervous,” you giggled, pinching his pouty cheeks.

He grinned, dipping you into a passionate kiss that screamed ‘I miss you’ in every language. His hand trailed to your back, and yours his hair. Just as things began to escalate, the door swung open.

“YN!”

Immediately, you pushed him away, and he stumbled backwards. Both your eyes landed on your grandma, who was as pale as a ghost.

“I can explain!”

“What kind of nonsense is this?”

Zuko was frozen, from the long list of things that could've gone wrong, this did not even make the top one hundred list.

“Grandma, this is Zuko,” you calmed down, “My boyfriend,”

He snapped out of his trance and extended an arm to shake with her. She walked out, leaving a small stone to prevent the door from closing again.

“Sorry about her,” you groaned, embarrassed that she left him hanging.

He retreated his arm, shoving it into his pocket, “She already thinks I suck. It’s over.”

“It’s okay she’s easy to win over,” you smiled sweetly, contrasting the lies that currently fled your lips.

Stiff, awkward, weird… all of the above.

You couldn’t relax for this dinner, things were so tense after what just happened. He didn’t even get to say hello before she saw his tongue down your throat and now she probably is a hair away from blood bending him into a ball. And he could tell she hated him- when he asked you to pass him a spoon she threw it at him. She missed…

“So, why don’t you tell her about yourself Zuko,” you broke the silence.

His eyes widened, suddenly being put on the spot, “Well I-uh-um-“ he coughed.

“He helped the avatar end a hundred year war,” you chimed in.

“Yeah so he can start a 200 year war all on his own,” she remarked, glaring at him. “All fire folks are the same,”

“Gram, give him a chance, he’s trying his best,” you held his hand over the table, rubbing your thumb in comforting circles.

Suddenly, a fork came hurling at you, and when you both dodged your hands away, you found it embedded in the table.

“Right…” you breathed out.

She stood up abruptly, folding her arms, “Yn, come outside, now,”

“Yes ma’am,” you replied, looking back at Zuko with a worried expression.

You shut the creaky wooden door behind you and adjusted your garments as you stood by here on the patio.

“A fire nation boy?”

“He’s different… he’s not what you think he is,”

“That’s what they all say Yn, he’s bad news.”

“What about him is bad news?”

“Everything. Especially the fact that he’s a ticking time bomb.”

“He’s a good man.”

“Are you forgetting his past? He attacked the avatar!” Your eyes widened, “That’s right, I did my research… I know every little thing he did and so help me if you dare leave this house with him I will make sure that’s the last time either of you see each other.”

“You can’t do that!”

“Who’s gonna stop me?”

Your eyes brimmed with tears- it was one thing to ban you from seeing him, but a completely other thing to treat you like a child. You were old enough to make these decisions on your own. You huffed, storming back inside and waltzing into your bedroom, slamming the door with a lot of force.

Hama sat back down at the table, smiling before she flipped it onto Zuko. He gasped, standing up quickly to avoid being crushed. She stomped around the table and got up in his face, grabbing the collar of his shirt. She was surprisingly strong for her ancient age.

“What do you want from her?”

“To be with her,”

“Why?”

“Because I love her,”

“WHY?”

“WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY?”

She pushed him onto the ground, lifting her arm as if about to bloodbend him. He’d heard the tales of what she was capable of from his friends, and he felt his heart drop.

Zuko froze, waiting, shielding himself and closing his eyes.

“Aren’t you gonna firebend?” She asked, a bitter sounding tone.

“No.”

Just then, you exited your room, finally having collected your bearings. There, you found Zuko almost curled up on himself, and Hama glaring at him. He breathed heavily, and she looked as if a blood vessel was about to pop. You immediately rushed to his side, helping him up to his feet and checking him for wounds. He was fine of course.

Your hand brushed against his cheek and he closed his eyes, humming, “I’m fine,”

“What did you do?” You yelled, looking at the old lady.

“I tested him.”

You laughed sarcastically, “And did he pass,”

“With flying colours,” 2 out of 3 pairs of eyebrows flew upwards, you and Zuko exchanged glances. “For now,”

After a bit of cleaning up, you finished the night with Zuko in your bedroom, sitting at your desk.

“Is everything okay?” You asked, leaning against the table.

“If she doesn’t even want me near you, how on Earth are you going to move in with me?”

“That’s… that’s a great question.”

An: OKAY SO idek where to start I basically obv got back to school and I had exams and then even MORE EXAMS coming up (send help) BUUUT I mainly just lost my spark and interest in writing but it feels wrong to continue to ignore my inbox so I’m gonna try my best to clear it soon. If you have requested I’m genuinely so so sorry it’s taken this long I’m sure you’re mad at me but hopefully not too mad don’t hate me okay bye love you 🩷

[reader-wandering18]

Yuu x Kengan Ashura

Yuu is a boy who, at first glance, seemed skinny, short (150 cm), and with large glasses that made him look like a nerd. A human from another world, who was accepted into a magic school without possessing any of it. His attitude also didn't help much since he didn't like to draw attention to himself, avoided fights, and always looked for a quiet place to read a book. Even in Ace and Deuce's fights, he tried to be the voice of reason to prevent them from continuing to insult each other. A kind person willing to help without asking for anything in return. That's how all the kids at Night Raven College saw Yuu… They never imagined that the magicless human they saw paying close attention in class and always trying to get the best average… was a former professional wrestler, who was sponsored by a large company to fight in the Kengan tournament, placing as one of the three finalists.

They just didn't see the worked body of a former wrestler.

The walk along the main path was like any other. Ace and Deuce kept complaining about the endless monotony of Trey's class, while Grim, as always, complained about being hungry, and Yuu, as usual, listened silently, without intervening too much, lost in his own thoughts as the sun bathed the path in a warm light.

A few feet away from them, on the training ground, Lilia and Leona were engaged in a fierce soccer dispute. It was clear their competition had escalated to a level beyond friendly, and Trey and Cater watched from a distance with worried expressions.

"If that ball goes flying towards someone…" Trey muttered, adjusting his glasses.

"They're going straight to the hospital" Cater added worriedly.

The worst-case scenario materialized in an instant.

Lilia, taking things to the extreme , kicked with such force that the ball shot out like a cannonball. At that moment, everything seemed to stop. The ball's trajectory was clear: it was heading straight for Ace, who barely had time to react.

Lilia tried to intervene, but even her supernatural speed wasn't enough to reach it in time. Ace closed his eyes in resignation, waiting for the impact and the inevitable pain.

But then, the unthinkable happened.

In a move that defied all logic, Yuu stepped forward. With superhuman reflexes, he stood in front of Ace and, with impeccable precision, lifted his leg. The force of the kick that returned the ball resounded like thunder, and the ball crossed the field in a flash, scoring directly in Lilia's goal.

For a moment, the world fell silent.

Yuu's leg was still smoking from the friction of the impact, while his teammates and the players on the field watched, paralyzed with amazement. Grim dropped his half-eaten tuna; Ace and Deuce could barely process what they had just witnessed.

Yuu simply adjusted his glasses, as if nothing had happened, while everyone remained motionless, completely stunned.

I've had this as a draft. Honestly, the idea isn't as long as I'd like it to be, but it's what came out.

I'm a manga fan. I like to see twists and turns (even if they involve absurd situations), but a story doesn't always have to follow the laws of physics. I remember it was recommended to me on TikTok, so I started it. Then the author released one that I MEGA LOVE called "Star Strike It Rich."

Hina, my girlfriend.

Sorry, I got excited.

Anyway, I wasn't planning on doing a Twisted Wonderland crossover, but I found a fanfic on Wattpad about the boys' reaction to a Yuu from the world of Kengan Ashura. Type: Character X reaction.

I wanted to do something similar, although instead of reactions, it's a scene.

The fanfic is in Spanish, and for those interested, I'll leave a link.

I might think about doing a female Yuu from Star Strike It Rich.

[ninihunt]

𝕺𝖕𝖕𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝖙𝖔 𝕺𝖇𝖘𝖊𝖘𝖘𝖎𝖔𝖓 𝖔𝖓 𝖆 𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖘𝖎𝖔𝖓|| Part 1

The Enemies We Became ────୨ৎ──── ETHAN HUNT x FEM READER

Summary: You are an agent who works for the IMF. After you received your mission, you were informed that Ethan Hunt had recruited you to his team. However, bitter pasts haunt you throughout the mission. And it's all up to you and Ethan to set them right as you and the team try to hunt and stop the Entity from starting a nuclear war between the countries of the world.

Genre: Enemies to Lovers, Slow-Burn, Ethan hunt being an ass towards the reader ( well, at first😉), Mission: Impossible ( Dead and Final Reckoning)

Warnings: Nope

Word count: 1142 (it's short, sorry)

You were in an IMF safehouse. Always appreciated them. They were just as beautiful, functional as your own house. You were seated on the couch, a black leather couch, with recliners and all. You were staring at the photos you hung up on the wall. Pictures you took when you were in France, London, and many other places with your Ex-bestfriend,Ethan Hunt. Emphasis on "Ex", but more on how that happpened later. It hurt you every time you glanced at those pictures. Yet you have no idea why you hanged them anyway.

As you were lost in your thoughts, you heard a knock on the door. 'Ugh! It's 5 in the morning, who the hell would it be? You groaned to yourself. You headed for the TV cabinet and grabbed your gun, well, it's a precaution, and walked silently towards the door, looking through the peephole to see who it was. You sighed at the sight of a mailman waiting patiently with a box in his hand. You opened the door, finger on the trigger of the gun behind your back.

The mailman stands straight, as if he's a military officer.

"The night speaks in silence, ‘They will come for you.’ But I do not flinch. I do not run. I reply with no words — only fire. For I am not the hunted."

He says with a misty voice. You then realise he is sent from the IMF to deliver a mission package. You were taught all of these 'epic and poetic' when you were a trainee at the IMF.

" I am the Reckoning." You answer.

At this, he hands you the package and walks away, into the gloomy surroundings as you shut the door behind you.

'A new mission.' You thought to yourself, sighing. You had only finished your solo mission a week ago. God! There's always some bastard trying to bomb the world!

You head into your bedroom, package held tightly in your hand. You place it down on your desk, pulling up a stool and sitting on it. You tear open the package, careful not to disturb the contents inside.

It's a book. 'Red Sparrow' to be exact. You flip it open to see a big hole after the first 20 pages. It has a tablet inside it that you turned on to play a voice-recorded message.

"Good morning, Agent. A rogue intelligence—non-human, autonomous, evolving— The Entity, has breached containment. It sees everything. It hears everything. And soon, it will decide everything.

Global powers are in a silent race for control. Some seek to own it. Others, to destroy it. But only one man holds the key… and that man is Agent Ethan Hunt."

At the use of his name, you clenched your jaw, looking away, a heavy feeling filling your heart. Turning your head to see his face on the screen, green eyes, messy hair that screams ' run for your life '. His looks did mesmerise you, but that was back then. Now you just hated him for existing.

"Your mission, should you choose to accept it:

Retrieve both halves of the cruciform key.

Prevent global escalation.

Decide whether truth should be known, or erased forever.

You will be working with Agents Ethan Hunt, Benji Dunn, and Luther Stickell.

As always, if you or any member of your team is caught or killed, the Secretary will disavow all knowledge of your actions.

This message will self-destruct in five seconds.

Good Luck, Y/N."

You sighed loudly and shut the book as it combusted by itself.

'Working with Hunt again!', you exclaim to yourself. You were annoyed. Extremely annoyed. What annoyed you even more was a Morse code letter in the book. It was a letter from Ethan. Gosh, you hated him, you are literally not on speaking terms, and he had recruited you to the mission because of your "talent" (at least that's what he wrote in the letter). You didn't want to go with him, you absolutely didn't. But a part of you says you have to, not for him, but for the entire world. So you did. You packed your bags to meet the team at the IMF safe house near the Abu Dhabi airport at 10:06 am.

IMF had provided you a private jet to Abu Dhabi, and a safe vehicle to go the the safehouse. You twisted open the doorknob with a key given to you in the plane, and saw Benji Dunn in the living room. He was, as usual, sitting with his laptop on his lap, the green light from the screen accentuating his features. He turned his head toward you slightly with furrowed eyebrows, which you were sure was the face of a confused man trying to figure out who was at the doorway. As soon as he recognized your face ( you worked with this same team a bunch of times, so it was like a good reunion, well, at least with "some" of them), his face broke out into a big grin. You gave him a grin, too, as he set his laptop on the table and came running to you, giving you a HUGE hug, swinging his arms around your neck as you swung your arms around his waist, still grinning.

" My, my, if it ain't Benji Dun,n" you said, setting your bag down.

He gave a chuckle." Well, it's me alright, definitely not a masked guy." he said as he tugged at his own cheek to show that he's not wearing a mask or something.

You smirk and not your head at his stupidity. He was always there for you, like your brother.

" I missed you, Y/N." he said, giving you another hug. " Me too, Benji" you said. You broke out of the hug, and you and Benji settled on the couch.

" Where's the other guy?" you asked, looking at the computer, with the least amount of bother in your voice.

" He's just in the room, setting up some gear for you and himself." he said, pointing his thumb towards a room at the right.

You nodded. " What are we doing today? " you asked eagerly. You felt ready for the mission, more than ever. Only, it's just the beginning.

" You and Ethan should retrieve the other half of the key from a courier named Delai Hasan," He says, showing you a picture of him on his laptop. You simply nod, but the thing is, you hate going on a mission like this alongside Hunt. 'Why did he always have to be there?'.You thought to yourself

And then you heard footsteps and turned towards the door Benji pointed at some time ago.

There he was, standing as if he saw a ghost, looking at you, Ethan Hunt, your no.1 enemy and rival. Yet you were working on the same mission as him.

[hotchs-big-hands]

The Slaughterhouse

Part 1|Part 2|Part 3|Part 4

Aaron Hotchner x plus-size fem!reader

8.1k words

Minors dni please

Warning(s): VERY DARK, injury detail, medical descriptions, hospitals, gore, injury, blood, extreme angst, sort-of enemies to lovers, flashbacks, reader and Aaron be going THROUGH IT

Please heed the warnings, although the worst of it is over it's still a heavy series.

An escalating string of gruesomely murdered fat women begin to stack up with no end in sight. What started as an unfortunate routine case for the BAU team, takes a disturbing turn as you become entangled in the unsub's web, danger approaching closer and closer. It's only a matter of time before it's too late to bring the madness to an end.

BESTIES I'M FINALLY BACK WITH THIS SERIES OMG IT'S BEEN TOO LONG. I really hope people enjoy, there's still one more part after this which I hope to work on soon!!! Thank you for sticking by me!

Another hour passed by. Another wave of agony tore through Aaron Hotchner. It was like limbo. Everything was still, unable to move and continue on. It was only the intense pain in his chest that reminded him he was actually alive, but his very soul- his heart- was torn away the moment those ambulance doors closed behind you. He barely remembered much after that, although he was wearing different clothes now. A navy tee shirt under a zip-up black hoodie. Some sweatpants. Even his shoes were not his original ones. What he wore before was gone, the fibres so entwined with your blood they were completely unsalvageable.

All he could do was stare at the floor, head hanging low as he propped his arms up on his knees. Sometimes the spotted linoleum floor would blur into a haze of grey and tears would drop onto his clasped together hands. He'd stopped screaming hours ago, whenever that was. And now he could feel how raw his throat was whenever he swallowed, which caused him to press his lips together tightly to prevent a sob from bubbling over. A part of him knew he wasn't alone in the waiting room, but at this point he really didn't care. He said nothing whenever anyone else in the room tried to talk to him, ask him if he needed anything, to just say something. What was the point? You weren't there.

There was a sigh.

“Aaron, you need to drink something. You'll become dehydrated like this.” He heard Rossi’s voice, but he didn't respond. “(Y/n) wouldn't want you to close yourself off like this and not take care of yourself.”

This time, Aaron sat bolt upright and sneered.

“Don't speak on behalf of her. You have no idea what she would have wanted.” He snapped, glaring at the older man. It was rare for Rossi to lose his calm and carefree self, but now he was staring the unit chief down, nostrils flaring and his hands curling into tight fists.

“Actually, I do know. Do you seriously think she doesn't care about your wellbeing, huh? You think she wants you to torture yourself, to shut down and give up? Come on, you know deep down that's not the case at all.” His voice was sharp, cutting through the haze that had shrouded Aaron.

No one in the room moved, staring at the altercation between the two oldest members of the team with bated breaths.

Aaron couldn't speak, opening his mouth and closing it over and over. Why should he be kind to himself? He got you into this mess, he made the decision to close himself off from you in an attempt to put a stop to the blooming feelings he’d immediately developed for you when you first walked through the doors for your interview. He couldn't have you, Strauss would have his head triumphantly or, far worse, she would terminate you and force you to leave the BAU in shame. He was damned from the start, and by trying to keep you from being damned too he had pushed you straight into the grasp of a monster. He gritted his teeth as fresh tears pooled in his deep, brown eyes and his shoulders slumped defeatedly.

There was a knock at the door.

Before anyone could say or do anything, Aaron shot up and strided across the room to pull the door open. An unfamiliar medical practitioner stood in the doorway patiently, not even phased by the rapidness of the door swinging open. They cleared their throat.

“May I come in? I want to discuss Miss (L/n)’s condition with you all.”

Aaron moved to the side wordlessly, allowing them to walk in and he closed the door quietly. He tucked his right arm under the other whilst his left hand curled into a soft fist, running his thumb over the second knuckle of each of the fingers.

Everyone waited. The doctor shoved their hands into their pockets and their eyes flicked from one face to the next.

“To put your minds at ease, she's alive and stable.” They began. Alive? You were alive?? Aaron’s chest heaved with relief. “However, she lost a considerable amount of blood from the injury and while we were stitching the different layers back together. We are giving her a transfusion, and while we did manage to resuscitate her as quickly as we could each time she coded, we will have to wait until she is brought back around from the induced coma she's in to see if there's any lasting neurological issues.”

“Can we see her?” Spencer croaked, eyes glassy as he studied doctor. They smiled apologetically.

“For now it would be best if there's only one visitor, just in case.”

All eyes were on Aaron then, and he swallowed.

“I don't..”

“Go. You need to go to her.” Emily said softly. There was a mutual sound of agreement and it made his face scrunch up a little as a few tears rolled down his face. With a choked out ‘thank you’, Aaron followed the doctor out of the waiting room and down the corridor. They stopped at a private recovery room, the last coherent thing he had demanded for you to have, and he drew in a shaky breath.

“Here we are. I'll give you some privacy.” He heard the doctor say and he shakily reached for the door handle, turned it and pushed it open.

“Oh…” his voice cracked and he stepped into the room, closing the door behind him and shutting out the chaos of the outside world.

Laying still looking ashen on the crisp white bed sheets, was you. You were connected to several machines, at least one of them beeping periodically and accompanying the only other sign you were alive; the soft rise and fall of your diaphragm. You looked so frail, so easily shattered by the smallest touch. As he tentatively stepped closer he spotted your injured thigh sticking out from under the sheet with a large dressing covering it. He swallowed back a sob and stopped at your bedside. He didn't know what to say. And so he reached down and took hold of your hand, the one without an intravenous line in it, and cradled it in his own. The tips of your fingers were a little cold.

“God… I'm so, so sorry, sweetheart. I-” Aaron whimpered when he felt tears dribble down his chin and drip onto his hoodie. “This is all my fault.”

He wanted you to open your eyes, much like people always did in movies and TV shows, to reassure him that it was okay; you were okay. But he was met with the beeps of the monitoring machines helping you to breathe in your coma. He fucking hated this.

Carefully, he grazed his thumb over the back of your hand and gazed at your peaceful face. He would never forget the look on your face back in that wretched slaughterhouse. The fear, the absolute agony… He began to cry again.

“I-I-, fuck! I do like you, okay? I know I've done the worst job at showing this. No, I did it intentionally. I-” he scrunched his eyes shut and he breathed shakily. “I have feelings for you, feelings I shouldn't have as your boss and yet I have always had them. I thought I was…. I thought if I kept you at a distance it would save you from getting into trouble with Strauss.” He said softly.

As gently as he could, Aaron lifted your hand up, meeting it half way by bending down, and pressed a soft kiss to the back of it.

“I'll make this right, okay? I need you to rest and recover, sweetheart. And then I'm going to do whatever I can to make it up to you.”

For a while he stood beside you, admiring your beauty. Even in the fragile state you were in, you were beautiful. He'd always known and thought you were beautiful.

And then the moment he dreaded came to be when he heard a knock on the door behind him. His lower lip wobbled and he squeezed your hand a little, desperately.

“Mr Hotchner? I'm very sorry, but visiting hours across the hospital just ended.” It was a different voice this time, a feminine voice. He didn't pull his eyes away from your unconscious form.

“I want to stay. Please.”

“I-”

He finally turned his head to the doorway and he sniffled sharply.

“Please, I need to- I can't leave her.”

He didn't care if the nurse pitied him, nothing mattered except staying with you now.

She nodded slightly.

“Alright, I'll ask someone to bring a cot in for you.” She said and closed the door behind her as she left. Aaron turned back to you and pressed another kiss to the back of your hand, but this time his mouth lingered for a little longer.

At first there were shadows. Simultaneously the blur was both burningly bright and too dull to make out refined shapes. Then came the sound. It was garbled, an indecipherable mess until one sound cut through the rest.

A beep. A constant, irritating beep. It grew faster when frustration swelled through this place of limbo, only to fade into the void when unconsciousness cloaked everything once more.

It was a continuous dance between mild awareness and nothingness, feeling infinite and tiring and confusing. There was no such thing as time. It didn't exist in this place.

Then finally, finally everything began to slide into place, piece by piece.

And yet, that fucking beeping would not stop.

Your eyelids slightly scrunched tightly; the beep, the light that was now trying to force it's way through the cracks hurt your brain. Angered you. You wanted to yell.

A hiss escaped you, a low noise that coiled warm air back over your face. What the fuck..?

“Oh my god.” Someone spoke. Someone was there. You wanted to reach out to them, to tell them to switch off whatever was beeping incessantly at you. But your body felt like stone, too sluggish to move.

Now, you realised something was on your face. Constricting your mouth and nose. You tried to reach up and push off whatever it was but all you could manage was a twitch of your finger. Slowly though, your sense of awareness returned to you and mustering all your strength you finally began to open your eyes.

The world was blindingly bright. It burned and you snapped your eyes shut again.

“....hh…” you breathed against the restriction on your face; you needed it off as soon as possible.

“She’s doing her best, just give her a moment.”

You forced your eyes to stay open this time, finding the world to be a blur of colours melting together.

“C… s….”

A blur of dark colours filled her vision, blocking the overhead light from hurting so much.

“What was that? Try saying it again.” Definitely a familiar woman's voice. You blinked a few times to try clearing your vision but it didn't work.

“Can't see… blurry….”

The blur moved slightly.

“Oh, has anyone got some tissues? Her eyes are full of gunk.”

There was movement in your peripheral and then something soft pressed lightly down on your eyelids.

“I'm going to clean your eyes, okay? Just try to stay relaxed.” The voice said. The tissue felt ticklish on your skin and your face twitched whenever it brushed over a particularly sensitive area. Eventually, you were able to make out proper shapes, albeit still slightly blurry but enough to tell what it or who it was.

“E-Emily?” You rasped, throat as raw as sandpaper. It made you cough, only adding to the pain.

“Easy now, your throat is gonna be sore.” Your dear, dark haired friend Emily murmured. “You want some water?”

You nodded slightly, but it was enough for her to understand. She turned her head to address someone else in the room, and you struggled to see who else was there.

“You lift the mask, I'll bring the straw to her mouth.” Her eyes flicked back to you and she smiled gently.

“JJ’s gonna lift the mask up now, okay? Just hold still.”

On your other side JJ approached and beamed down at you, her eyes shining with tears.

“Hey.” She managed to choke out at the same time as her fingers carefully pried the mask off your face. Ah, so it was an oxygen mask then.

Emily pressed the straw to your lips and you accepted it gratefully, slowly sipping mouthfuls of the cool water. God, in that moment it was the most delicious and refreshing thing you'd ever had. You could only have a bit at a time, too big of a gulp hurt your throat, but the smaller sips were manageable. With the added hydration to your body you were able to clear your throat enough to speak a bit better.

“P-please help me sit up…” you whispered.

Emily smoothed her hand over your forehead comfortingly as her smile turned more apologetic.

“Sorry, (Y/n). Gotta wait for the medical staff. Morgan and Reid went to go fetch them.”

You nodded in understanding and closed your eyes for a moment.

“Wh…where's…”

“Ah! Miss (L/n)! It's so nice to see you awake.” A clear, cheery voice said. Your eyes opened again and you were met with the sight of an older woman, most likely in her late forties dressed in a nurse’s uniform standing at the foot of your bed. “My name is Kelly! How are you feeling?”

“Like shit.” Emily choked, bug-eyed along with JJ and you could have sworn you heard Derek chuckle nearby. You winced a little. “Sorry, that was rude.”

Luckily, Kelly laughed lightly and shook her head.

“No you're fine, sounds about right. Do you know where you are, Miss (L/n)?”

Your brows furrowed slightly as you tried to recall anything from before.

“I know I’m in a hospital, but that’s all.”

The nurse nodded and came over to you to take your vitals. Emily and JJ stepped back out of the way but they kept their eyes on you, the other members of the team, minus one came to stand nearby.

“Are you in any pain?” Kelly asked you as she pulled the blood pressure monitor over to your bedside and carefully applied the cuff around your upper arm, then pressed the button to start the cycle off. You sighed.

“I…I don’t think so.”

“You don’t think so?” She raised her brow at you. Whilst she continued making observations, making a note of them as she went.

“I haven’t moved so far, so I’m okay.”

“We’ll help you sit up if you’d like in a moment. I’ll ask again after that.”

Your eyes drifted around the room with every passing moment bringing out the clarity of everything. Where…where was he?

The machine beeped to signify the cycle was complete and the tight grip of the cuff released, letting you relax better. Kelly took note of it and smiled at you.

“Well, so far I have no worries about your condition aside from some confusion, which is understandable. But let’s try and sit you up now.” She turned to the others then. “Do any of you want to help? I’ll tell you where to hold her and when to lift.”

Derek approached your bedside with his usual charismatic grin that even in the state you were in right now, you couldn’t help but smile in response.

“C’mon, sugar. Let’s get you upright and comfy.”

The nurse made quick work of guiding him where to hold you, and when she took hold of your other side she turned her attention to you.

“This may cause your stitches to feel like they are being pulled when we move you now, okay? We’ll be as swift as possible though and I’ll assess what to do next, depending on how it goes. Does that sound okay?”

You nodded, just wanting it to be over with.

“Okay… In three, we are going to lift her upper body up and pull her back. Someone please grab the pillows and hold them further up to support her back.”

Emily rushed over and smiled at you reassuringly, and at the count of three you were hauled upwards and adjusted to sit upright.

Oh, how your thigh screamed pure pain. It was only when you noticed the horrified expressions on your friends’ faces that you realised you had screamed. But in that moment you hardly cared, curling over in agony as tears immediately sprung up in your eyes. The nurse sprung into action immediately, pressing the support button and ushering everyone away from the bedside.

It was like fire, like knives, like claws. Tearing and ripping and destroying the nerves on the entire left side of your body. You couldn't stop crying, wailing when hands reached at you to stop your thrashing. And then it was as though a switch was flipped and you calmed, laid still and Kelly appeared into view.

“We've injected a sedative in you to help you relax and we'll give you some strong pain relief now.” She said and took hold of your hand gently. “You may feel sleepy though, is that okay?”

All you could do was nod as stray tears dribbled down the sides of your face and soaked into the pillow below your head.

There was a moment longer of the blinding pain, then it slowly began to ease a little and your eyes felt a little droopy. You weren't sure what was going on for a while, only hearing snippets of conversation further away from your bed which made your brows furrow.

“...not leaving until we at least keep her updated...”

“...staying here with her until she's ready…”

Your eyes flicked to the side when you spotted the oldest member of the team sidling over, and he laid his hand on the side of your head carefully. He offered a tired smile.

“Hey kid.”

Your lower lip wobbled.

“It was bad, wasn't it? Whatever happened.” You croaked. The man leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead and sighed.

“Do you remember anything at all?”

You scrunched up your brows as you tried to remember back. The dull ache in your thigh brought it all to the forefront of your mind and your chest heaved with a quiet sob.

“What the fuck,” you cried softly as you gazed up at Rossi tearfully. The man brushed his hand over your head and allowed you to grab onto his arm for comfort as you let out everything you were feeling.

“I know. You’re gonna be okay, kid.” he soothed. You couldn’t remember it all, only flashes. But it was enough to leave you feeling like you had been shattered into a thousand pieces.

At one point Rossi produced a handkerchief for you to use, refusing when you tried to give it back instead of using it. And so you cleared your face with it, breathing deeply in and out to calm yourself down again. When you finally reached a point where you wouldn’t immediately break down again you noted the nurse was gone and your friends stood around your bed.

“We asked for a little more time, and one of us is gonna stay overnight with you.” you heard Derek explain but you sniffled as your eyes darted from face to the next.

“Wh…where is he? Where’s Hotch?”

There was a shared glance; the absence of the BAU’s leader was uncomfortably prominent. Rossi spoke again.

“Strauss called him in. Actually, he had been staying here up until just a day ago.”

Huh?

“What…?”

You were confused.

“Yeah, slept in the little bed over there since you came out of surgery.” Spencer said. But it didn’t make sense to you.

“W-why? That’s-”

Emily raised her brow at you as she folded her arms across her chest.

“That’s what?”

“Weird as hell.” You finished, frowning as your eyes flitted to the bed that lay closer to the ground than the one you were in. He had stayed there?

“Why’s that, sugar?” Derek asked you and you blanched.

“Because he’s Hotch, duh.” Your eyes drifted down to your hands that were now curled into fists in front of you. “Probably was waiting around for me to wake up to tell me off for being reckless.” You muttered dully. The room fell quiet then, aside from that maddening beep.

“You really don’t remember much from what happened, do you?”

Your eyes flicked to JJ, who appeared almost distraught.

“Not really. I-I take it I’m forgetting something important.”

“We should let it wait for now. It isn’t a good idea to overwhelm you with too much information.” Rossi cut in, sending a pointed look to the others. Well, you certainly didn't like that. You swallowed thickly.

“I wanna know what happened.”

Rossi eyed you.

“Not right now. Your priority is resting and recovering.” He said more firmly. You slumped slightly in defeat; there was no point in crossing him. Tiredness washed over you and you sighed, realising you were going to be recovering for a while. Derek took hold of your hand and gave it a squeeze.

“Hey, babygirl’s gonna video call you tomorrow, she’s missed you so much and been crying on the phone to me about it all.” He said, then chuckled. “But don’t tell her I told you that part.” He then winked and you scoffed tiredly.

“I’ve missed her, too.”

Day by day you slowly recovered, getting to the point of using crutches to move around a little bit, and for a week a different member of the team stayed with you overnight in the hospital- something you were very grateful for with the nightmares that had begun to tear through your sleep. But as life goes, they couldn't stay forever and eventually the call came in to summon them all back to Quantico.

“I don't like the idea of leaving you here alone.” Emily said after the text came through. It had been her turn that night to stay with you. You shrugged.

“Criminals aren't going to stop just because we're one member down, Em.”

“I know, but… We're all so worried about you. You- you didn't see what we witnessed when we found you.” She trailed off and you could see her fighting off the urge to cry. You reached out and took her hand gently, rubbing your thumb over the back of it.

“Hey… I'm-I’m okay, yeah? I'm in safe hands. And before you know it I'll be back in town.” you tried to smile at her, which she appreciated but could barely return the gesture.

It had been a week since then, and finally you were being discharged. The idea was to have whoever was available from the team to fly back over to you and stay with you in a hotel for a few days, just to be sure all was stable, then return to the home state together. You had no idea who it would be though, it was highly dependent on the nature of whatever case the team was on at the time.

You sat waiting, perched on the edge of the hospital bed you'd been living in for the past while now, when there was a knock on your room door. You shifted on the bed carefully, keeping your thigh secure as you moved, then called out.

“Come in!”

There was a pause, then the handle turned and the door pushed in. Your breath caught in your throat. Hotch stood in the doorway, just as breathtaking as ever wearing some dark jeans and a dark blue button down shirt underneath a casual jacket. Cautiously, he stepped into the room.

“Hey, (Y/n).” He said. Your hand grabbed the untidy bedsheet tightly.

He had referred to you by your first name.

“S-sir.”

His face twisted into an expression you hadn't seen on him before for a split moment, then it returned to his normal stoicness. He cautiously approached the bed, stuffing his hands into his pockets and his eyes darted around the room. Was he nervous? Why?

“I'm taking you to the hotel, then home.”

You nodded. What were you to say to him? You sniffled loudly.

“I… I’m sorry for what happened, sir. I hope there wasn't too much paperwork.” You mumbled. Hotch looked at you, bewildered.

“What? You don't need to worry about that.”

“But-”

“Please don't stress yourself out over it. I've handled it. Everything is fine.” He cut you off gently. What in the fuck was happening? You expected to be reprimanded, to lose your job, for him to be cold and angry at you. But this?

You sighed gently and the nurse entered the room with your discharge paperwork. She smiled sweetly at the both of you.

“Ah, I see your boyfriend was able to return to take you home!”

The both of you tensed up as your eyes flicked to one another, then as Hotch opened his mouth to speak you beat him to it.

“Oh no, he's not my boyfriend. He's my boss.” You said quickly, returning your gaze to the nurse and immediately a look of horror crossed her face.

“Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to assume.” She handed over the paperwork to you and gave you an awkward smile. “Here's your paperwork, I'm going to get you a wheelchair to take you downstairs, then you can continue on your crutches.”

You nodded and thanked her, then sat quietly avoiding looking at the man opposite you. He shifted from one foot to another whilst you messed with the crutches propped against the side of your bed.

“I wanted to get back sooner instead of making you stay here alone.” You heard Hotch say after a moment. You lifted your head slightly to look at him. The expression on his face struck you, you'd never seen such remorse from him before. Well, at least not aimed at you. You shrugged.

“That's how it goes in this line of work.”

“No, it really doesn’t.”

You stared at him; your brow twitched.

“I…”

The nurse returned then with a wheelchair and the both of you turned your attention to her approaching figure.

“Here we are! Right, let’s get you into the wheelchair now.” The nurse glanced at Hotch. “Are you able to help?” She asked, more cautious this time. He nodded.

“Of course, yes. Tell me what you need me to do.” he responded sincerely. She eyed him for a moment longer, then nodded once.

“We are going to support her from under her armpits and lift her up to stand after I lower the bed.”

She took hold of the remote that controlled the hydraulics of the bed and lowered it to the correct level for you to stand. The both of them prepared to help you then, slinking an arm under your pit and round your back securely. While you were still wary of Hotch, confused by his sudden change of heart, you still had feelings for him and the sensation of his arm around you was something you’d had craved for so, so long. And as you pushed up off the bed to stand you winced at the sharp pain in your thigh, burying your face in Hotch’s chest as you whimpered.

“Easy, you’re okay.” you heard him say softly, his thumb rubbing against your back soothingly.

He didn't let go, not even when you were finally sitting in the wheelchair. Instead moving his hand to your arm comfortingly. The nurse didn't question it.

“Alright, I have a got you your prescription of pain medication here, I'm putting it on top of your discharge papers. You're able to leave when you're ready now, Miss (L/n).” She said and you nodded tiredly.

“Thank you…”

She smiled and moved to the side to allow Hotch to wheel you out.

“You take care now, okay? Call us if there's anything you need.”

You nodded at her and offered a weak smile in return, then Aaron began to wheel you out of the room. You lost track of the many winding corridors you travelled down to reach the exit, but soon you were outside and you breathed in deeply when the air hit your face.

“God… you forget how nice it is when you go outside.” you said softly. Aaron hummed and directed the wheelchair to the car he must have hired- much lower to the ground than an SUV, that you were worried would have been your mode of transport. He locked the wheels in place and took hold of your crutches with one hand while the other hooked around your back to help you stand.

“Squeeze as tight as you need to onto me.” You heard him say, then when you were ready to try you pushed up from the chair painfully, wincing and once again burying your face against his chest.

“F-fuck- hurts-”

“I know, swe- (Y/n), I know. You're doing very well.” Aaron murmured as he passed you your crutches. You thanked him and rested your weight on them, taking it off your poor leg instead. He pushed the chair out of the way and opened the passenger door open for you and helped you lower down onto the chair slowly. It was all so painful still, straining your wound site and sending sparks of pain up and down the side of your body. By the time you were belted in you were exhausted.

Hotch nudged the brakes off the wheelchair and grabbed the handles, then turned to you.

“I'm going to take the chair back. I won't be long, okay?”

You nodded and he bumped the car door with his hip to close it for you. You sighed softly and settled back into the chair. You weren't so sure what to think of feel right now.

“I'm going to order food in, what would you wanna eat?” Hotch asked you hours later. You were sitting up on one of the beds in the twin room you were sharing with him now. It was a different hotel to the one you'd stayed in for the case, more luxurious and you were on a floor much higher than the room you had been staying in at the other hotel.

You sighed softly.

“I'm not really sure. What places are there available in the area?”

The man crossed the room to you and held out his phone, showing the food delivery app to you.

“I think it might actually be easier if you take a look than me reading them out. There's quite a lot.” He said with a barely there smile. He… It made your stomach feel funny and you looked away quickly, taking the phone off him with a quiet ‘thanks’.

“You have any preferences?” You glanced in his general direction, keeping your eyes away from his face.

“I will find something on the menu wherever you choose. Don't worry about it.”

“Alright then…”

You heard Hotch sigh and he moved to sit on his bed, perching on the edge facing you.

“Is something wrong?” He questioned you. You continued scrolling.

“I'm tired and in pain. That's all.” You knew you sounded unconvincing.

“Please don't lie to me.”

You finally turned your head and looked at him, lips pulled downward.

“Well then I don't want to talk about it. Please leave it alone, sir.”

He stared at you and his brows began to furrow deeply. His jaw clenched slightly.

“(Y/n). When I thought you were going to die, I-” He cut himself off, swallowing thickly and his left hand curled into a fist and his thumb began to stroke across his second knuckles. “I was fucking terrified. Seeing you like that, I don't think I'll be able to forget it.”

You stared wide eyed at him for a moment in silence. You didn't expect this, didn't think he cared this much. In the artificial light of the room you could spy the glint of tears threatening to spill from his sad, brown eyes.

“S-sir… I-I didn't realise you felt so strongly about it.”

He sniffled and lifted his hand to wipe his eyes with his thumb and fingers. You bit your lip, trying to stop it from trembling.

“That's also my fault. I kept pushing you away and this is what happened as a result.” He mumbled. The room was quiet for a while, the hum of the AC filled the silence as you stared at the man before you. Far gone was the person you'd come to expect and were used to, the closed off and cold unit chief who would barely do so much as stiffly discuss work with you when he needed to, in his place was a man filled with regrets, with concern and an emotion you couldn’t recognise. Or at least, you didn’t want to. For all you knew you’d be misinterpreting things and your heart just couldn’t take it.

You sighed.

“What happened? I only remember parts, the others won’t budge when I ask them.” You finally settled on, hoping he would be the one to bring you from solitude. He shifted on his bed and you opened your mouth to push for answers, when he spoke.

“The day you were kidnapped, we found another victim’s body- Carla Reynolds- who you’d spoken to a few days prior. Your FBI badge was with the body and- and you blamed yourself.” He paused, letting the words sink in. You remembered her, and you remembered the state her corpse was in when you visited the body dumping site. Hotch noted the tremble of your hands and his brows creased. “If you need me to stop…”

“No. No, I- I need to remember.” You cut him off and curled your hands into fists. He was quiet for a moment, then nodded.

“You- you fell into a dark place of blaming yourself. You tried to remember faces from the day you interviewed her but you couldn’t. Her parents were let in and they confronted you when you were by yourself. I-“ he clenched his hands into fists and dropped his gaze. “I should have said something then, did something. And when you snuck out of our hotel room with the car keys from my jacket that night? My heart sank.”

Oh… it was coming back to you now. Your lower lip trembled.

“He… he had a knife at my back when you called me. That’s why I, um, ended the call.”

“(Y/n)…”

You dipped your head and wrapped your arms around yourself.

“I’m sorry for the stress and grief I put you all through, I just… I didn’t think straight at all. I- I’ll understand if I do lose my job based on my actions during this case.” You mumbled and you clenched your jaw in an attempt to stop yourself from crying. You heard Aaron sigh, then a moment later the mattress dipped under his weight as he sat down beside you.

“Hey, I have no plans on doing such a thing. You’re a valuable member of the team and terminating you would be not only a poor decision, but also hypocritical.” He closed his eyes for a moment and laid his palm against his forehead, breathing deeply. “I think everyone on the team has done something reckless, including myself. And yet we’re all still here in the team.”

He could see you were not entirely convinced from the way you fussed with the hem of your shirt and the wrinkle of your nose. But you were tired and hungry and just wanted to sleep. And so you picked his phone up from where you’d set it down beside you when you curled up earlier, and chose a random restaurant to order from and picked something. You offered his phone back to Hotch and avoided his gaze.

“I chose something. It’s your turn to now.”

His fingers barely brushed against yours as he reluctantly took the phone back and you gritted your teeth a little, trying hard not to show a response to the touch. Hotch sighed again, but didn’t push the unresolved conversation for he could see the exhaustion weighing in on you. You knew he wouldn’t let it slide forever, though.

Little by little, you began letting your guard drop slightly around Hotch. While you still felt uncertain about him, questioning if he really had cared about you all this time, hearing his soft voice as he checked in on you at your apartment and brought you groceries to cook meals for the week for you. It was, frankly, weird. But not an unpleasant weird. It had your feelings for the man in turmoil though, what should you be feeling towards him, if it was perhaps something to still cling onto.

There was always a certain look in his eyes whenever he visited you; a sadness, the look as though he had much to say but not knowing how to, or if he even should say. You never brought it up.

The others would stop by as well, especially Penelope with her being in the area all the time. Sometimes they’d all visit at the same time, having a group dinner and helping you around the apartment- even when you at first protested. Thinking back on it, you weren’t so sure why you were so reluctant to let your friends help you. They’d been so supportive and caring, and you felt as though you were close to being back on your feet in a way. Nightmares plagued you though, tearing through the night mercilessly and leaving you more exhausted than you’d started out. You had yet to make any of them aware of it, not quite ready to talk to them about what you experienced. Sooner or later you would have to if you wanted to return to work smoothly.

It was a few months later when things took a turn. After another round of extensive physical therapy and talking to a psychiatrist, Aaron had brought you back home- as he always did after such appointments if he could- to make sure you were okay. You never asked him to attend any of them, he had took it upon himself to see to it if he wasn’t away with another case. Part of you was curious as to why, but decided against asking. It was… nice having him care about you like this.

He was finishing up washing the dishes (despite your protests) after the two of you had shared a meal again when your phone began to ring. You picked it up and raised a brow at the number; it wasn’t one in your contacts. The area code was for Virginia though and you decided to answer it.

“I’m gonna take this call, s-Aaron.” You murmured softly to him and he nodded.

You swiped to answer and held the phone to your ear as you walked through to the living room.

“Hello?”

“Hello, this is Section Chief Erin Strauss. Is this (Y/n) I’m speaking to?”

A chill shivered through you. What on earth was she calling you for?!

“A-um yes! It is, yes. Uh, how can I help you, ma’am?” You answered quickly.

“Upon your return to work tomorrow, I would like you to report to my office first thing. Is that understood?”

That wasn’t good.

“Y-yes, ma’am. I can do that. Is that all?”

“Yes that is all. I hope you have been recovering well, agent (L/n). I’ll see you tomorrow, good bye.”

The line disconnected before you could say anything else and for a moment you merely stood rooted in place.

“(Y/n)?” You heard from behind you, snapping you out of your trance. Turning to face Aaron, you blinked at him. You noted the front of his shirt had damp patches from where the water in the sink had splashed onto him as he washed up.

“Mm?”

“Who was that on the phone?”

You were quiet, debating what to say to him. His brows creased as he stepped closer, concerned about the extending silence.

“You don’t have to tell me, but I just want to make sure you’re-“

“Strauss!” You blurted, stopping Aaron in his tracks. “It- it was Strauss. Wants me to um, visit her in her office tomorrow when I arrive back.”

Aaron’s brows furrowed now as he folded his arms across his chest, covering up some of the damp splotches on his shirt.

“Do you know what she wants?”

“No… do you?”

He shook his head as you and dropped his gaze.

“Listen, tomorrow… when you return to the office. I want you to come to my office whenever you have the first opportunity to do so. I will issue you your new FBI credentials and your gun.” He said sincerely. You nodded.

“Sure, I can do that.”

“That isn’t all.” He moved closer towards you and laid a hand on your shoulder, causing your breath to catch in your throat. “I have something I need to discuss with you, it’s important. As well as that, I want you to know that if anything becomes too much; come to me and tell me. You’ve been through a hell of a lot, it’s okay if you struggle to find your footing.”

He squeezed your shoulder gently and you finally found the ability to breathe again, nodding quickly as you glanced away bashfully.

“Y-yes. I- I can do that, sir- Aaron.”

A slight smile twitched at the corner of his mouth.

“Thank you.” He said softly.

You were almost nauseous with stress and worry as you rode the elevator to the correct floor. It was hard to remember the last time you’d been here. but it wasn’t even just the nerves of returning to work after so long, you were on the way to talk to Strauss. You’d hardly slept that night after Aaron left your home, instead wracking your brain as to what she could possibly want to talk to you about. As the elevator dinged, you knew you didn’t have anymore time to think about it.

Briskly, you walked towards her office, avoiding other people who were at the office as early as you were. You hadn’t looked through the glass doors to the bullpen yet, you weren’t ready.

Standing outside Strauss’ office, you knocked and waited. Every second that ticked by felt like an eternity, then the door swung open to reveal Erin Strauss. She smiled slightly at you.

“Hello agent (L/n). Do come in.” She greeted you and held the door open wider for you.

You stepped inside and listened for the quiet click of the door shutting behind you, followed by the muffled clack of her heels on the carpet as she walked back towards her desk. She gestured to the chair opposite her desk as she settled into her seat and you quickly moved to sit down.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

She knitted her fingers together in front of her and studied you for a moment.

“You must be wondering why I called you in today before you headed into the office.” She said. You cleared your throat and drew in a deep breath.

“I am, yes.”

“I want to commend you for your bravery first of all, but also offer my sympathies for what happened to you. If there is anything I can do to help you, you need only ask.”

You shifted in your seat and nodded slightly, keeping your head bowed.

“Thank you.”

“That isn’t the only thing I brought you in to discuss though.” The shift in tone caused you to stiffen and you felt a throb of pain in your thigh.

“Ma’am?” You lifted your head to look at her.

“During your… predicament, James Humphrey had a camera set up recording, just as he had done with his other victims.”

She paused for a moment whilst you processed this information, a coldness settling within your core. She continued after a moment, her face expressionless.

“While I have not watched it, I have read the transcripts and I am concerned with what I have read. So I need you to be honest with me when I ask you something: what feelings do you have for agent Hotchner?” She asked, staring at you. Your entire body froze up, eyes wide in alarm.

What?

“M-ma’am, I don’t understand… what has that got to do with-“

Strauss pulled out a piece of paper from a casefile you hadn’t originally noticed was sitting on her desk and began to read from it.

“James said ‘wearing these cute lil’ frilly panties for your boss?’ And you didn’t respond at first, which urged him to continue and you both argued about it. That is until he says ‘You seriously think no one sees it? It’s pathetic really, you being desperately in love with your boss and craving even an ounce of praise from him.’ And even mentions the two of you had been sharing a bed.”

You stared at her in horror, struggling to comprehend any of this, or even why she was bringing it up in the first place. The pain in your thigh throbbed more intensely, to which you pressed your lips together tightly. She continued, eyes scanning the paper.

“That isn’t all, agent (L/n). Later on, when the team did reach your location, you said to agent Hotchner that you have ‘always liked him more than you should’ which, added to everything that transpired beforehand, leads me to believe you have inappropriate feelings for him.” The woman concluded, returning the piece of paper to the casefile.

And all you could do was stare at her.

Was she truly more concerned about this over the fact you had been tortured and almost died?! Besides, you had no memory of-

Your heart lurched in your chest and your hand trembled slightly. It had all come flooding back, the memories of it all, the realisation you had practically confessed to Aaron Hotchner on what you believed to be your deathbed. You swallowed thickly.

“I…”

“So I will ask you again, agent (L/n). What feelings do you have for agent Hotchner?” Strauss asked impatiently now and you felt as though you were on the brink of throwing up.

“M-ma’am, I-“ you closed your eyes for a moment and exhaled. “I- I do have feelings for him. B-but I have never and will never let that interfere with mine or his job-“

“That is not what I asked.” The woman cut you off and you closed your mouth quickly. “You do know about the policies surrounding fraternizing with colleagues, especially that of your superior, yes?”

You nodded and clenched your hands into fists in your lap, fighting the urge to look away.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Then you’ll know it is not acceptable to have feelings for agent Hotchner, your superior, nor would it be acceptable to engage in relations with him.”

Your jaw clenched.

“I understand, ma’am.” You gritted. Strauss clasped her hands together firmly as she tilted her head at you.

“You have two options: if you do not wish to lose your job, I will assign you to a new position in a different state. You will no longer have contact with agent Hotchner, nor the BAU unit as a whole.” Your chest heaved with utter shock, but she wasn’t finished. “Either that or you hand in your resignation. You will still not be able to have contact with agent Hotchner.”

All you could do was stare at her, unable to say anything. Never see Aaron again? Or talk to him? Even acknowledge his existence ever again? You felt your heart shattering to pieces, the coldness within spreading throughout your body. All of this time slowly building a positive relationship with him during your recovery, your feelings growing stronger for him, would all have been for naught. This was a worse agony than everything you’d been through, entirely heartbroken.

Strauss cleared her throat to bring your attention back to her and she handed you two envelopes.

“One of these is a form to fill in if you wish to transfer, and the other is for resigning. You have until the end of the day to make your decision, agent (L/n). That is all.”

You didn’t remember walking out of her office after that, nor finding your way back to the main precinct where the glass doors were to the bullpen. But as you heard your name being called and you turned to see Emily and the others approaching the doorway, you returned to your senses and quickly made your way into the elevator to leave. You couldn’t bear to face any of them now, especially him.

Just when we thought things were gonna get better for them too 😔😔😔😔 maybe next chapter it'll be different >:3 thank you for reading this far!! It means a lot to me 💖💖💖💖💖