#that would have felt too soon in ep 2

[asumi2020202]

Everything has a Price to Pay

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x reader

Summary: Daemon's hired men, whilst trying to slay Aemond in his bed, accidentally harmed his wife and his son and Aemond blames his wife for it.

A/n: The 2nd episode of s2 broke my heart. The way Helaena clung to her son's blanket. But anyways, this is something which is somewhat based on the storyline of ep 1 and 2 of s2 but unlike the directors taking out Alys Rivers from the show, I'm including her. Thank you for reading!

______ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ___________________________

All throughout the kingdom, you were known to be the gentlest of souls much like your sister. Though she was naive and all too forgiving, you were a bit unlike her. You preferred knowledge but both of you were kind.

Your marriage to Aemond was exactly like Aegon and Helaena's. To keep the bloodline pure. Except the only difference was that both of you loved each other and that he was not like Aegon.

You always stayed with either your sister or your husband ever since a child. Or sometimes you would accompany your eldest brother, he only had you who understood him.

Unlike his brother and nephews, you didn't tease and harrass Aemond, for you too knew what it felt like to not be heard. He felt as if he could only seek comfort in you and his mother as a child and even now.

When he had claimed Vhagar, he had to pay the cost with his eye.

He realised he loved you when the maester and maids tried to usher you away saying the stitching and mending to his face would too horrific to see for your gentle soul yet you stood your ground and held his hand while your mother pleaded for justice.

You felt hate for your father. For he blindly trusted his daughter, disregard anyone else. If someone even asks him your name he probably would not be able to say.

After that incident in the Red Keep, your half-sister's family fled to Dragonstone.

_________________________________________

War had started. Your mother along with your grandsire, successfully installed Aegon on the throne. Your husband Aemond had took the life of your nephew.

You knew that the House of the Dragon would tear each other apart. With no literal escape.

It was only some days before your child would be born. Having your first child with your husband. The only happiness in this devastating time.

Your happiness has crashed down when you got a raven. Your husband was laying with some bastard whore in Harrehal. The only thoughts you would get were

Did he not love me? He always swore that he would never leave me and stay by my side, that he will be different than our father.

He looked happy when he got to know of our child yet he is laying with another woman.

What did I do wrong?

Why did he lie?

He left you right when the war had been declared and he finalized it by killing your nephew.

Your mother tried to help you. Completely disappointed in her son. She raised him better yet he still did this. Harming her daughter, hurting her emotions and dishonouring her.

You stayed with Helaena until the pressure of it all became too much to bear and ultimately pushing you towards your labor.

_________________________________________

You laid in your bed crying, sweating and panting, while your husband was who knows where.

You held tight onto your mother's hand as Helaena quietly said "A price must be paid for all that is done."

Soon enough your child was born. It was a son. Your little Aenor.

Moonfyre's roar were heard. She could sense a new presence. One familiar to her bonded sister.

You cried as you took your son in your arms, your mother kissing your head as your sister gently rubbed your arms.

_________________________________________

Moonfyre had laid her eggs 3 weeks before your son's birth.

It had been a week since you had Aenor. Since your husband, if you can even call him that now, had not returned. You took it upon yourself to get him his own dragon egg.

As you walked through the dragon pit, you saw some dragon keepers scared.

"Moonfyre iksos daor īlva jikagon va zyhōn. Nyke suggest ziry would sagon wise naejot daor jikagon va zyhōn nykeā zyhōn drōma sir." Said a dragon keeper.

Moonfyre is not letting us go near her. I suggest it would be wise to not go near her or eggs now.

"Dīnagon aside. Nyke shall ūndegon skoros nyke kostagon gaomagon." Came your reply.

Move aside. I shall see what I can do.

As you walked further in, you saw you dragon, guarding her precious eggs.

You walked towards her. She's let's out a small noise upon recognising you. You gently placed your hand on her snout and then your forehead. With her wings she gently pushed you towards her eggs, guarding you.

You chose an egg for your son. Before leaving, you patted her snout and scratched it a bit, giving her some comfort.

_________________________________________

Night had already fallen over kings landing. You were with your son in your shared chambers. He had fallen asleep to your gentle humming.

As you were cradling your son to your chest, you heard the door being opened. You thought it was perhaps a maid but as you turned around you saw the rat catcher that comes everyday.

He was smirking and held a knife. Soon after him, entered a muscular man who had a knife as well.

"A son .. for a son he said." Said the muscular man. "Oh but look there, thats his son." Replied the rat catcher to the other man.

As the other one looked at you, you felt dangered.

"I.. have a necklace. It.. is of great value.." you cradled your son closer to your chest with one arm while with the other hand you tried to open the necklace.

The muscular man simply tore it away from your neck. Fear was evident in your eyes. You took a step back as the rat catcher said

"Hand him over and you'll live. We only need him."

As he approached you, you placed your right hand over your right thigh where your own dagger was kept.

The rat catcher tried to forcefully take your son but before he could do so, you kicked him in his crotch. While writhing in pain, he slashed your arm. The other one was coming towards your son, but as he tried to slash him in your arms you turned around.

His blade dug through your back. Muscles getting slashed. Extreme pain courses through you. Yet you didn't give up. U took out your dagger and slashed his cheek and stabbed his chest. As he flinched away, you took your chance and ran out the room, you nightgown red with your blood.

You didn't know where to go. Time was limited. You could hear faint moaning noises. Cradling your son closer to your chest, with your jaw on his head, you followed the noise.

You came infront of your mother's chambers and entered without a second thought. You saw her with Ser Cole but you didn't care about that. Your energy was running out. A lot of blood was lost. You didn't even know if you would survive.

With your remaining strength you said "Mother". You shakily walked to her and somehow gave her your son as you collapsed beside her bed.

Alicent's scream could be heard from everywhere. She couldn't believe her eye. Her little sweet y/n was bleeding out in front of her. She put Aenor on her bed as he wailed out loudly.

Alicent kneeled before her daughter and hugged her to her chest. Her blanket and body getting bloodied. She cried and cried.

Aegon and Helaena had appeared as well. Helaena couldn't watch, tears flowing from her eyes. She took Aenor as a maid escorted them away to her room.

Aegon rushed beside his mother and sister. Gently taking her in his arms as maester Orwyle came through hurriedly, asking Aegon to put you on the bed.

Aegon very carefully laid you on your stomach on the bed. While maester Orwyle asked them to leave the room, both your brother and mother did not stop crying.

_________________________________________

Aemond had landed on the Red Keep. Getting off of Vhagar, he walked inside the castle. As he entered, he could see a man being dragged to the dungeon. Blood everywhere. Maids rushing around.

He saw his brother. But he wasn't as he usually was. He knew after becoming the king, Aegon had changed, but now he looked completely different.

His hair not brushed. Eyes red and tired. Blood. He was covered in blood.

As Aemond walked towards him, he heard Aegon say to a guard "kill every rat catcher you can find. Spare none."

Aegon looked away from the guard and saw Aemond. His eyes filled with fury. He marched towards him and grabbed his collar.

"Finally came back huh brother? It could've been avoided with you here yet you chose your whore over everything else." Aegon said, trying to keep his calm which is very unlikely of him.

Aemond felt ashamed and confused. Ashamed for being disloyal to you and dishonouring the family and confused thinking about what Aegon was saying.

"Look I'm sorry brother, that was a mistake. But do explain what you mean by it could've been avoided. What has happened?"

"Our sister had given birth to your son a week ago. And today she-" Aegon stopped. His tears flowing uncontrollably. "T-today she and my nephew were attacked. She is badly wounded. Maester Orwyle is with her but he said that she lost a lot of blood. That she was already weak from the birth and now this." With this Aegon completely broke down.

Aemond's breathing stopped. He chose his whore over you. The one who always stood up for him. He felt ashamed. So ashamed that he might sink and drown.

He ran towards his mother's room after Aegon told him where you were while he went down the dungeons to deal with the man who dare hurt you.

As Aemond reached, he saw his mother. Scared and fearful. He knew he fucked up bad. As she noticed him, she walked up towards him, looked him in the eyes and slapped him. He deserved it.

_________________________________________

You slowly opened your eyes, trying to take in your surroundings. You saw your husband pacing around the room.

He noticed that you were awake and spoke. "You're awake" you remained silent as you recalled the events of last night.

"Aenor.... My son.. my son Aenor! Is he okay?! Did he get hurt?!" Your enquired as you suddenly sat up, ignoring the pain in your body. Worried for your son.

"He only had a small cut on his feet. Nothing else. He is okay." Aemond replied helping you back down. You felt relieved and finally acknowledged your pain and groaned.

He didn't knew what came over him in an instance. He felt anger towards the ones who hurt you and his son. He was angry with himself but instead it got directed at you.

"If only you had taken better care of the security, none of this would've happened.." he muttered.

"What?" You sat up again, not believing your ears.

"If only you knew how to fight, this would've never happened! You can't fight, can't run, you can't even protect our child like a mother should!! You should have called more guards!!" He shouted while pointing his finger at you.

You got up from your mother's bed and stood as you held onto the bed.

"It is my fault now?! Huh?! You're the one who's irresponsible. You left me!! You left me and my child to fend for ourselves!! You left us for your whore whom you sought comfort in instead of your wife!! Where were you when we were attacked huh?! Were you fucking your whore?! Were you creating your bastards?!

You promised me that you were different. That you would treat me with respect unlike other husbands with their wives. You said you were different but...... You're just more of the same.." your voice raised and came down as tears flowed rapidly. Your would reopened because of how tensed your body was. Your nightgown was starting to get bloodied again.

Aemond was shocked. He yelled at his precious wife. His gentle lady wife. And she who never raised her voice no matter how angry or raged up she may be, shouted at him.

He fucked up greatly.

You winced as you fell to the ground. Blood getting everywhere as Aemond rushed to your side and gently tried to pick you up but you refused.

"Don't. Do not touch me with the hands that you used to hold her. I may be a woman. I may be the most vulnerable, but I have an honor. Neither my son nor do I need you. I will ask Aegon to annul our marriage. After that you may return to your whore and I will raise my son alone." You said, wincing as pain shot through you body.

Your lady in waiting came in and got you up on the bed and called maester Orwyle.

As Aemond got up from the floor, he was speechless. He never knew one mistake would cost him his everything. The words you spoke hurt more than when he lost his eye.

The entire day those words circled his thoughts.

_________________________________________

It had been a week since the last time Aemond met you. He had went to Harrehal and returned. Aemond walked inside your shared chambers after he got to know that you shifted back there. Aegon provided two guards infront of your door.

He watched as you cradle your son to your chest with your left hand which was fine and hummed a valyrian song to him.

You stopped as you as noticed him. You gently put Aenor in his crib and straightened your back.

"I'm sorry" he started.

"You sorry means nothing to me. You say your sorry now but next chance you get you'll run back in her arms." You spoke, gazing out the window.

"There will be no next time. I got rid of everything that would come in between us." He replied as your body stilled after hearing his words.

"Whatever do you mean?" You asked, turning back to face him.

"I got rid of her. All i now need is your forgiveness. For you to accept me again. To trust me again. Please avy jorrāelan. Forgive me this once." He begged as he got down on his knees and held your hand.

You were shocked. He killed her. He killed her without a second thought. You wanted to loathe him but deep down you loved him.

"I don't know..... I don't know anymore. I want to trust you Aemond. But I can't. I can't trust you. You've hurt me far too much.

It'll take a while to heal the scar you inflicted upon me but I will try. I will try to forgive you." You replied shakily.

He got up and hugged you lightly not to press on your wounds.

"Thank you my love. Thank you" he spoke as he kissed your head.

You gave in to his warm embrace. War has started. But right now you just want to be held.

You would think later of how to punish those who dare harm your family.

Those who hurt your son will pay. They will pay with their life. And you will see to it that they burn in flames. You will make sure that they rot in hell even if you too would have to.

After all nothing is for free....

Everything has a Price to Pay.......

-Lillian

[mrs-kmikaelson]

What's in a Name?

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader Summary: 5 times you and Agent Hotchner questionably cross paths over the years, just for him to watch you walk away (+1 time you don't). Warnings: long asf, murder, violence, addiction, unhealthy coping mechanisms, corruption in government, allusions to abuse, one made-up case, hotch is a lil ooc (not rlly), and reader has grey morals (lmk if there's more) Eps incl: S1E21 (secrets and lies), S3E20 (lo-fi), S4E1 (mayhem) Words: 24.4K

Masterlist | Bonus (no.6)

a/n: this is the longest fic i have ever written. guys, one section is literally 10k words long— and i didn't notice!! it's too long for one part (there's a 1k block limit on tumblr) so the bonus is linked above and at the bottom. it took me... a while. so i hope u enjoy! might do a part 2. also i'm only on s4 of cm rn (even tho i know too much alr) so pls don't spoil. ly guys!!

1. The myth

Quantico, Virginia, 2004

The interrogation room was cold and your fingers felt frozen against the metal of the table, but you doubted it had anything to do with the fact that it was December. If anything, you'd bet good money that as soon as you stepped out of the room, the heat would return. You'd bet good money that a certain Agent Hotchner sitting across from you had fucked with the AC unit.

Nonetheless, you didn't show your discomfort, keeping a poker face.

Well, as much of a poker face that you could keep.

You had a smile on your face, a twinkle in your eye. While you preferred not to spend time in police stations, this really was turning out to be quite interesting.

Agent Hotchner didn't seem to hold the same opinion as you. The frown on his face was unmoving, his expression stone cold. High-strung, you thought, and then you wondered what crazy things he might've seen to make him that way.

You turn to the man sitting next to him (the boy really), and asked, "Does he ever smile?" You pointed to the man in question to emphasize your point, even though it was clear as day who you were referring to.

Spencer, as you'd learned his name was, looked somewhat flustered at your question, like he wasn't expecting you to speak to him, but he ignored you regardless. You took that as a no. "Ms. Y/L/N, you're known throughout the United States and many other European countries as 'The Angel of Death.'" Your smile widened at your nickname. "They say that, as soon as you contact someone, they're as good as dead."

"Oh? Is that what they say?" Your voice was sly and teasing.

Spencer ignored you yet again. Rude. "You send them a message through various online media, and then they mysteriously turn up deceased."

"Do they?" you drawled.

The stoic and silent Agent Hotchner took this as his cue to speak up. "As of late, your existence has been nothing more than a rumour, an urban legend amongst criminals and internet sleuths. A myth."

You hummed.

"But your recent attempt on Congressman Baylor has failed. You got sloppy," he deadpanned. "You went for a fish bigger than you could handle, and now the myth is likely headed for life without parole unless you tell me who you're working for."

You were silent for a moment as you held his stare, and he thought that finally, he was getting somewhere with you, but then you broke that silence with a giggle so bubbly it was almost hard to believe you were assassin.

"That's cute," you remarked.

He narrowed his eyes. "What's cute?"

You shrugged nonchalantly. "The fact that you think you can convict me."

It was Spencer this time that spoke up, his voice soft in comparison to the jagged edges of his partner's. Perhaps this job hadn't broken him yet, you thought. "Y/N, arrogance isn't gonna get you out of this."

You snorted. "No, trust me, this isn't arrogant. It's self-assured." You didn't give them a chance to get another thing in. "Tell me, what exactly has your technical analyst, Penelope Garcia, been able to dig up on me?" You saw slight alarm flare up in Agent Hotchner's eyes, surprise in Spencer's. "She's FBI, yeah, and you guys sure do like to play by the rules, but she isn't an agent like you, Hotchner. She must get impatient, bend the rules, perform some illegal activity that you don't question because it helps you with your case. That's why I'm a bit surprised that, even though she likely did run an illegal background on me, she didn't find my records. I mean, they're not that sealed. I bet I could unseal those bad boys right now."

He's lucky you didn't put money on that bet, because you would've won.

Aside from his eyes, no emotion other than irritation showed on his face. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, you poor sweet things." Another chuckle left you. "Have you ever heard of this little thing called immunity?"

Hotch was quick to dispute. "No. You do not have immunity."

You contested, "Oh, yes, sweetheart, I do. And if you had checked my pockets for anything other than a pistol, then perhaps you'd have noticed this." Since they hadn't cuffed you, you reached into your back pocket easily and pulled out your badge, the words Central Intelligence Agency catching their eyes immediately. 

Hotchner scoffed, the most emotion you'd seen from him since you met. "You're CIA?"

You cocked your head. "Y'know, for some of America's supposed best minds, I'm a little unimpressed."

Reid leaned forward in his seat. "You're—"

"Yes, I am. So your girl back at HQ seemed to miss a few details about me, and you have missed more than a few details about this case— if a case is even what you could call it." You stood up and rested your hands on the table, getting bored of this game already. "What you have, SSA Hotchner and Dr. Reid, is not a serial killer. I hope your victimology analysis picked this up already, but the quote-unquote victims you have are all bad people, people who have broken the law in irreparable ways. And when I say irreparable, I don't just mean Bill Clintoning it up with minors, despite many of them having done that. I mean selling government secrets, espionage, treason. Things that threaten national security, things that my bosses do not like. I'm sure you catch my drift, don't you?"

Before Agent Hotchner could respond, the door to the interrogation room was opening, and a smirk automatically arose on your face. About damn time. 

A man who you instantly recognized as Jason Gideon stood in the doorway. You briefly met once, but you doubt he remembered you. His face was stern, too, and reluctance shined through his voice. "Hotch, the Secretary of Defense is here, and the DOD is demanding she be released."

You maintained Hotch's stare all the while Gideon spoke. The clench in his jaw was small, but you caught it. Something told you this man didn't like to be challenged—you'd keep that in mind.

Eventually, he nodded.

You grabbed your coat from behind your chair, stowed your badge away and flashed them your million-dollar smile. "Well, it was nice meeting you, boys. Let's do this again sometime, yeah?"

Then you were out the door, and Hotch thought that if he went forever without seeing you, it'd still be too soon.

And when Congressman Baylor was found dead a few hours later, he wasn't surprised.

2. Smile

Langley, Virginia, 2006

"I've got the personnel files all set up for you guys. Video, whatnot—it's all there in the conference room. Now if you have any questions, feel free to talk to my senior officers. This is Gina Sanchez, she's the Associate Director of Field Operations. And that guy up there is Kruger Spence, the Assistant Director of Operations. The lady with him is his second-in-command, Olivia Hopkins. And then there's, of course, my boss."

Gideon's brows went up. "Your boss?" he echoed. The rest of the team's confusion was just as palpable. When he was brought in by Bruno Hawks to assist the CIA in finding their mole, he assumed he was the one running point. As far as he was concerned, Hawks didn't even have a boss that'd be there.

"Yes, she's flown in from an assignment to help with this case." Right on cue, you walked out of an office, heels clicking on the floor and the same smile on your face that Hotch could remember from two years ago. "Meet Director Y/N Y/L/N; she's head of a CIA black ops initiative and envoy from the NSA."

Your voice was smug. "Oh, trust me, Bruno, we've met before." This time, Hotch couldn't conceal his scoff. He felt Elle glance at him in confusion—she's the only one who didn't know who you were. "Agent Gideon, it's a pleasure to meet you formally." He shook your hand, albeit unenthusiastically. "Agent Hotchner, I knew I'd be seeing you again." He rolled his eyes, making your smile widen, but out of his strong urge to be polite above all other things, he shook your hand, too, pulling away as fast as he could. "Dr. Reid." He nodded back to you, almost hesitant. You nodded to the rest of them individually. "You two I haven't met, but you must be Derek Morgan and Elle Greenaway. I wish we had more time for pleasantries, but lives are on the line, so I'd like to get moving ASAP."

With that, you swiftly turned and walked back to the office you'd made your own. You didn't often spend time at headquarters, but a mole in the Agency was enough to pull you away from the case you'd been working previously.

As you left, you heard Reid explain to Elle in a hushed tone, "That was The Angel of Death."

You stifled a chuckle. Let's see if Agent Hotchner's team was as good as they claimed to be.

❧

You and Hotch stood on either side of Bruno on the platform as he spoke to the entire office, Gideon off standing alone, seemingly in thought. "Now, we all know why BAU and Ms. Y/L/N are here. They have their job and we have ours. And we're down to the wire on this. Aaliyah Nadir risked everything, and now she and her children deserve our fullest attention. Let's find her."

They all walked off after Bruno dismissed them, all but Gina Sanchez. You glanced at her from the corner of your eye as she went to talk to Agent Gideon. You didn't hear their conversation, but you saw the hostility painted all over her face. Interesting.

After she left, Gideon made his way over to where you were standing, speaking quietly. "We think the agent who's tipping off Hassan may have had some kind of extreme event in their life."

"Something that distorted or redefined their belief system," Hotch added.

Bruno was quick to get defensive. Why, you weren't sure. "No, every agent undergoes regular psych evals. You know that. They're trained to cope with extreme events"

"Well, whatever turned this agent must not've been something you can train for," you cut in. You didn't miss the way Hotch glanced at you.

Bruno gestured outward with his hands. "Well, you're welcome to everything I have. Every op undertaken by these guys is on file."

You snickered a bit under your breath. Your ops certainly weren't "on file."

"What about the ones that aren't on file, like the wiretaps of the Saudi Embassy?" Hotch questioned.

"Those don't even exist," Bruno said. You didn't confirm nor deny that statement.

"How long has your department been running operations in Riyadh?" Hotch turned to Bruno, back straight and eyes sharp.

"We have a declared presence in Riyadh, monitoring US interests there. You know that. Now if that's all, I have an informant to save." You hummed as Bruno walked off, finding his attitude quite intriguing.

"And you, Agent Y/L/N?" You turned to face Gideon. "What do you think?"

You tilted your head. "Aren't you and Bruno friends? Why not ask him?" Because he had the same feeling you have.

He responded without missing a beat. "You don't have a belief system—this job is all you believe in."

This caused you to chuckle. He wasn't wrong. "Good profiling, Agent Gideon. And yes, I have my suspicions, but until further information is gathered, I'm not at liberty to discuss them. For everyone's safety." You gave one last glance to Agent Hotchner. "I look forward to see what your team has brought together."

❧

Not long after your talk with Hotch and Gideon, you stood with the latter and Agent Greenaway in a supply office where the body of Olivia Hopkins was lying dead.

Gideon turned to you expectantly. "It's your job to clean house. You do this?"

You scoffed. "If I wanted to kill a CIA senior officer, believe me, you wouldn't have thought it was a murder at all." You glanced around the room you were in. "And I certainly wouldn't have done it in a federal building."

He must've believed you because he ended his line of questioning there, turning back to Elle. "Have any other agents seen the body?" When she shook her head, he replied, "Good. We can use this to our advantage. Get the others."

You met up with the rest of the BAU in their designated conference room as Gideon quickly explained the situation. Your suspects filed into the room shortly after, each confused and annoyed. You analyzed their body language closely, standing next to Agent Hotchner.

"You're pulling us away from our assignments?" questioned Kruger. "There's a woman out there whose life depends on us."

Defensive. Self-centred. Rude. But not your guy.

Gina was the first to ask where Olivia was, which was either genuine or she was covering her ass.

Hotch was the one to answer. "Olivia Hopkins was murdered 10 minutes ago. Her neck was snapped."

"Just like John Summers," you drawled.

Kruger let out a scoff, but you kept your eyes on the other two as he spoke. "What are you talking about?" Gina looked spooked, but Bruno's expression was cold, even as he tried to imitate warmth. "You're lying. Where is she?"

"Right now, she's dead," you emphasized, not really caring to be sensitive.

Kruger looked at you like you'd just killed his dog. "Look, people don't just... get murdered inside the CIA."

Gina looked at him with betrayal in her eyes as if he were a traitor. Shifting blame.

Hawks spoke up. "I realize the enormity of this, but Hassan Nadir is still out there looking to kill his wife, and I need every agent on this." You tilted your head. Deflecting. He didn't even acknowledge that his own colleague, his responsibility, was dead.

Gina was the first to leave the room, deeply frazzled. Gideon followed after Hawks, but you didn't go with him. You stayed in the room with Hotch while the rest of his team filed out.

You weren't expecting him to talk to you, let alone ask for your opinion, but he did. "What are you thinking, Y/L/N?"

You hid your surprise, nodding to the door Gina and Kruger walked out of. "My money's not on her; it's not on Kruger, either."

He furrowed his brows, lowering his voice. "You think Bruno Hawks is the mole?"

You shrugged your shoulders. "Bruno's been leading this unit for all of, what, ten years? And he hasn't advanced at all? Someone like him must have higher ambitions, like leading the Agency one day, but that's not in his cards. Gina Sanchez and Kruger Spence have bright futures here; Hawks is already at the end of the line. So what's the next best thing in this city besides power?"

Realization dawned upon him. "Money."

"And by the looks of the old car he drives, that's something he's lacking, but something that he wants," you deduced, pausing. "But I'll let you continue your investigation."

He caught your hand just as you turned away, and you ignored the small spark that was sent through your body. His eyes were earnest and curious, but most of all you realized that they were beautiful. "Y/N, what's going to happen to the mole when we find them?"

You ignore the unfamiliar flutter you felt after he said your name for the first time, and it's then that you remember Hotch was a prosecutor. Before he was unit chief Agent Hotchner, he was just Aaron Hotchner, a man who valued balance and believed in justice. Even now, after climbing the ladder, he still didn't seem to understand that his own government was different.

In matters like these, the United States government didn't value justice.

They valued revenge.

But still, if not just to help him retain his faith in his country, you shrugged and told him, "The scales will be evened, Hotchner." 

Then you pulled your wrist out of his light grip and walked away, and he couldn't tell if he wanted to know what you meant.

❧

Sanchez and Morgan were on their way to rescue Aaliyah and her children, and then you were made aware that Hassan was already there.

Bruno turned to Gideon. "Look, we can't arrest him. This is still a CIA matter. You do know that?" He then turned to you, like he was expecting to you to back him up.

You shook your head as Gideon said what you were thinking. "How are you going to explain this to the Saudi government?"

"Explain what?" he fired back. "This isn't happening."

You crossed your arms. "That's not how this works, Bruno. You don't just kill a Saudi diplomat and get away with it—that is how wars begin."

He scoffed at you. "Look who's talking. The Angel of Death, giving me a lecture on in-house cleaning."

You narrowed your eyes and stepped forward. "I don't know who the hell you think you're talking to right now, but you need to double back because, at the end of the day, what I. say. goes."

Bruno opened his mouth to argue, but Jason mediated, "Let's just get Aaliyah and her children back alive. We'll worry about Hassan's life after."

You gave Bruno one last hard stare before you turned back to the screen showing the Nadirs with Morgan and Gina outside. "Make the arrest, Morgan," Gideon called out. "It's FBI jurisdiction. You're in charge."

You listened to them over the comms. [FBI! Let the lady go and put the gun down. I said, put the gun down!]

The movement of heat on the screen told you that Hassan listened. [Diplomatic immunity, my friend], he said, and you chuckled.

[Uh-uh, you got it wrong, my friend. This container hasn't passed through customs. Officially, we're not on US soil. Summers was a smart man.]

Suddenly, you heard Gina's voice. [That he was.] Pause. [Drop the gun.]

The feed cut in and out as the figures moved out of the container. Confused, you called out, "Morgan, Sanchez, what's going on?"

Hawks turned to you and Gideon, and you wanted to wipe the smug look right off his face. "You two still certain that Gina isn't the mole?"

Gideon ignored him. "Morgan." No answer. "Morgan, what's going on?"

[Gideon, we got a situation here.]

You raised your voice. "Gina, don't do this. Do not do this."

"She doesn't take orders from you," Bruno snided. 

You took another step forward to him. "Listen here, asshole—"

Gina cut in, [Bruno, what do you want me to do?]

"Gina, you put down that gun. That is an order—"

[Bruno?]

This made you turn to Bruno, and if you were in an animation, smoke must've been coming out of your ears. "Hawks, I swear to god, if you don't stand down, you will be endangering the security of this country—"

Bruno only responded to Gina. "You know what to do."

[Say it!]

"This is not your call. It is not your fucking call, Bruno."

He finally turned to you. "This is strictly in-house and you know it."

"I don't give a damn. It is still not. your. call."

"Finish him."

"Gina, don't you dare do this."

[You're going to cut the visual feed, right, Bruno?]

"Of course. Cut it now. Cut it," he ordered, and the feed was off before you could even protest.

And then you heard four gunshots. 

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. White hot anger rushed through your veins in contrast to your normal playful demeanour. Meanwhile, Bruno turned to Gideon, saying, "I want to thank you, Jason, for your help."

You stayed quiet as Gideon responded, too angry to speak. "Why?" He paused, genuine disbelief evident in his tone. "Why'd you turn against everything you believe in?"

"What are you talking about?"

"When someone asks you how you feel about... losing one of your colleagues, the only human answer is 'I feel guilty,' isn't it?"

Bruno nodded and mocked, "But as you so brilliantly deduced, Kruger Spence is the guilty one." Following that statement, you watched as Elle walked up to where you three stood, a tiny paper in hand that she gave to him. Based on the ignorant smile that graced his face upon reading it, you could guess what it said. "Ridiculous," he deflected, tucking the paper into his jacket pocket. "Absurd."

That's when you snapped out of your anger-induced stupor. "No, Bruno." You shook your head. "The only thing that's absurd is how arrogant you are to believe that you're getting away with this."

Bruno pursed his lips, flashing you a sarcastic smile. "Unfortunately, with Hassan now dead, you have no proof."

"Oh, you son of a—"

Dr. Reid cut you off, announcing to everyone, "Actually, Hassan is alive and well. He's en route—that's all the proof we'll need." At this, you let out a chuckle. You certainly didn't need that proof, but it was nice to prove Hawks wrong before he was sent to where he deserved to be.

He clenched his jaw, stepping closer to Gideon instead of you, likely because he knew he couldn't shake you. "You are a fool if you think they're going to put me in prison with all that I know." He glanced at you and your lips quirked upward, because this was true.

"Why'd you have to kill Olivia?" Elle interrogated. She was straight to the point; you liked her. 

"Economics," Gideon replied, staring straight at Bruno. "Olivia was looking into your financial records when you snapped her neck."

Elle scoffed under her breath. "So she knew your dirty little secret."

"Which one?" Bruno asked. "I have so many."

You stepped closer to the trio. "The one that involves you cashing out through Hassan, maybe buying a real Rolex instead of the fake you don so proudly."

You could see Bruno's façade cracking, his frustration leaking through. "Twenty-million from Hassan will go a very long way to help occupy my mind on a beach somewhere."

Gideon wasn't fazed. "The only beach you'll see is on a postcard I send you from my vacation. Let me have your gun."

Knowing there was no way out of this, Bruno did what he said willingly, but he still had to taunt. "You know, I think the consequences of what you're doing to me, my friend, are going to be a lot harder to live with than you think."

Jason stared at him without blinking, and he stared until Bruno walked out, escorted by agents left and right of him. You found it comical, that petty thieves were escorted to the back of police cars in chains, yet a man who nearly started a war could walk out freely.

Well, you supposed Bruno Hawks wouldn't be free for much longer.

And it was your job to see to that.

❧

You were packing up your things in your office when a knock sounded. You turned to see a raven-haired man in a suit standing there, a hand in his pocket. A grin came to your face. "Agent Hotchner," you greeted. "Congrats on solving the case."

He let out a chuckle that surprised you. Aaron Hotchner didn't look like a man who laughed often. "Yeah, well, thank you, but I have a feeling you knew from the beginning."

Your grin widened. "Ah, I just needed proof." You continued to pack your things. "And besides, I wanted to see what your team was capable of."

He hummed, and you thought he'd leave after that, but he stayed, looking around the room with a careful interest. "No pictures," he noted. "No personal artifacts. It's extremely clean in here—untouched, almost. How much time do you spend here?"

You fully turned to him after that, giving him your full attention. With comments like those, that must've been what he was after. You crossed your arms, but the smile never left your face. "Perceptive, Hotchner," you remarked. "Profiling me now?"

He shook his head. "Not profiling, just observing."

Now it was your turn to hum, looking him up and down. You found that you liked what you saw, visually, but the implications to what you saw weren't very fond. "Well, what I observe, is an accomplished man in a nice suit, but you don't wear that suit because you're unit chief, you wear it because you got used to it as a prosecutor and now it makes you feel on top of things... professional. You're stiff and stoic, but that's because you like to separate your work life from your home life. At home, with your wife and kid, you're lively and relaxed, but that's also to compensate for the fact that this job takes a lot out of you; you're not home often, and that puts a strain on your marriage, which is why you haven't called your wife once today." Your voice was soft as you delivered that final blow. Hotch looked both uncomfortable and, surprisingly, impressed. But thus far, nothing about Aaron Hotchner was what you were used to. "Tell me, Agent Hotchner, was I correct?"

Hotch lightly snorted, but he didn't answer. Instead, he took to staring right back at you. You'd been stared at by bad men, murderers, rapists, terrorists and the like, but for some reason, his stare bothered you. You turned back around and packed one last thing into your bag. Then you walked toward the door, stopping just before you made your exit like an invisible barrier was holding you back. 

You patted his shoulder, telling him, "You should smile more, Hotchner. It'd suit you."

And then Aaron watched you leave for the second time in his life, except this time—for reasons he couldn't begin to fathom—he hoped he'd see you again.

3. The games we play

Washington, D.C., 2007

The air in Washington was always crisp. There was something different about it—like you could smell the power in the air, like you feel it. When you were home, in your apartment, it was suffocating. There was enough politics in this city that you could drown in it, politics you didn't care for. You saw enough of it as is.

Nevertheless, you weren't home often, so it wasn't too troublesome. Today, however, you were home, except you weren't here to rest.

You stepped out of your Mercedes as soon as you parked, locking the car and walking straight into the alleyway. Men in blue stood in your path, hands out. "Ma'am, this is a crime scene—"

You wordlessly held up your badge, effectively shutting him up. With red climbing up his neck, he nodded and lifted up the yellow tape for you.

When you made it past them, there was a woman in a red dress there. She'd be beautiful, you thought, if she weren't sprawled out dead on the ground. Her dress was so dark you almost couldn't see the blood stain. 

But the blood pooled around her was a telltale.

Next to her body was a card with typed-out letters and numbers that appeared random. 

But you knew better than that.

There was a woman taking photographs of the scene and a detective analyzing it. He was just as confused as those officers when you showed up. "Excuse me, who are you?"

You gave him a short smile. "Detective Walker, I wish we could've met under better circumstances. I'm Y/N Y/L/N." You held one hand out and simultaneously held up the other with your badge. "I've been instructed to take over this case."

He furrowed his brows. "I'm sorry, Ms. Y/L/N, but I've already alerted—"

"Detective Walker."

At that, you screwed your eyes shut and cursed under your breath. You recognized that voice—hell, you recognized the sound of his footsteps. And he was exactly what you didn't need.

Composing yourself, you spun around with your signature smile. "SSA Hotchner."

Hotch looked momentarily stunned at your being there, but that was quickly wiped away. "Y/N. What are you doing here?"

"Well, if you mean in the city, I live here. And if you mean at this scene, then that's because it's mine." You paused, letting that soak in. "This is my case."

Confusion was visible on his face. For a second, you thought it was cute. "No, this is a BAU case. Series of murders, victimizing high-level escorts—forgive me, but I don't see why this would require a CIA presence."

Of course, you don't, you thought, but for once, you didn't say what you were thinking. Instead, you explained, "I understand that 4 women have died in the past week, but believe me, Agent Hotchner, that is not the case I'm here to solve." When his brows knitted together, you elaborated, "These women are not the targets of these attacks."

"What do you mean?" 

You sighed, pointing over to the woman's body. "See that card over there?"

"Yeah, it's the unsub's signature."

"No, it's more than that. It's not a way for him to get off; it's not something he does compulsively. It is a taunt," you stressed. "Those letters aren't random. They're part of a code."

"A code to what?"

"A code to an NSA file recording every single undercover operation the United States has in foreign countries." Like your words were a vacuum, they sucked anything lighthearted out of the atmosphere—if there was any to begin with—and left tension in their wake. "6 high-level analysts have parts of that code. I'm guessing that 4 of them are already dead." You glanced back at the dead body before looking back at Hotch. "The unsub isn't a serial killer, Agent Hotchner. He's a traitor with a mission to annihilate everything in his wake."

❧

After looking at the scene, you sent Detective Walker away, telling him it wasn't personal but this case was too sensitive to be worked by local police. They didn't have the clearance nor did they have the means to help. You asked him to send you all of his evidence, and he complied easily, but someone wasn't so easily persuaded.

"You're going to need help."

You snorted. "Thank you, but I think I'll do just fine without it." Just as you reached your car, Hotch grabbed your wrist. 

You turned around, but before you could say anything, he spoke. "You could use my team, and you know it."

Your eyes ever so slightly narrowed. "All due respect, Agent Hotchner, but this is above your pay grade."

He held your stare for a few seconds until you saw his jaw tense. He glanced to the side before he exasperatedly muttered, "Please, Y/N." He looked up at you. "I want to help with this case."

Unknowingly, you straightened your back. Aaron Hotchner surprised you more and more each time you saw him. The corners of your lips curved upward, but something about your smile was more sincere. "You're not a man who says please much, are you?"

He rolled his eyes and neglected to answer. "Does that mean you'll accept our help?"

You paused. Was that what you meant? Your mouth didn't correspond with your brain as you replied, "I'm running point on this." Hotch's shoulders imperceptibly relaxed and he nodded. "I'll tell Detective Walker to send his stuff over to the BAU. I'll meet you there to brief your team." You turned away before you could see him nod a second time.

You don't know why you said yes, but you did. On the drive over, you told yourself it was because he was right, you could use some extra hands, and it helped that the BAU were good at what they did.

Yes, that's why I didn't send him away. 

You didn't explore any other option.

❧

Hotch got to the BAU before you but waited for you to arrive before walking into the building. To make sure you got to the right place, you reasoned. 

You went through the typical security procedure: removed your guns, walked through the metal detector, and showed your ID. In the elevator, you cracked a couple jokes that he didn't laugh at, asshole, but you nearly caught him slipping at one.

"This city's so damn power-hungry that even the serial killers would prefer a fucking computer code over sex. What a nerd. Hey, how often does that happen in your line of work, Hotchner?" You turned your head for his response when you saw his lips twitching.

You let out a dramatic gasp. "Agent. Hotchner. Are you..." you lowered your voice, a devious smile crawling to your lips. "smiling?"

His efforts to suppress his little smile failed after that. "Let's focus on the case, Y/L/N."

"Sureeee," you drawled. The elevator dinged and opened. "Better be careful, Agent. I might just start thinking you have a soul."

He shook his head at you and walked out of the elevator ahead of you so that you couldn't see him as a full smile graced his face. However, once you got to the conference, Hotch erased any sign of that smile and walked in full-stride.

You gave the room a cursory glance, duly noting that they must've spent a lot of time in here. You noticed immediately afterward that some faces were missing, and on the other hand, some new ones had appeared.

You followed Hotch to the front of the room in front of their TV. 

"Everyone, this is Director Y/N Y/L/N from the CIA. She'll be leading this case—and as some of you may recall, she's already worked with us on an investigation about a year ago," he announced, subsequently gesturing around the table. "Y/N, this is SSA Emily Prentiss, SSA David Rossi, our communications liaison Jennifer Jareau, and our technical analyst Penelope Garcia."

You nodded, smiling at them. "It's nice to meet you all—"

"You're— you're her."

You turned to the blonde with pink highlights that'd cut you off, Penelope, and furrowed your brows. "I'm sorry?"

"Oh my god, you're her," she whispered, her eyes wide and her face awestruck. "You're The Angel of Death."

You held back a laugh. "That is what people to tend to call me, yes."

She opened and closed her mouth repeatedly before eventually blurting, "I— you're an icon. I've read some of your code before in snippets, and it's beautiful. And, I mean, when you can code like that and then do what you do, it's no wonder that the government would want you all to themselv—"

"Garcia." At Hotch's command, Penelope's mouth snapped shut and snickers were heard around the table. "We are here to work," he told her, trying to be serious, but you could hear the amusement hiding behind his tone.

"Yes— yes, Sir. Work. Working," she said, but her eyes remained trained on you even as she spoke.

Morgan laughed, swivelling his chair toward you. "Sorry, angel. She gets a little..." he twirled his finger next to his head, "Comicon-y whenever things involve computers."

This snapped her out of her trance and made her whip around to point her finger at him. "You better shut it, Morgan, before I show everyone those pictures of you at Comicon with me."

His smile dropped. "Babygirl, you wouldn't."

"Oh, yes, sugar, I would."

Hotch exasperatedly cut their very entertaining banter off. "Work."

"Morgan, you've been to Comicon?" Without even looking at him, you could hear the smirk in the man's words.

"Leave it, Rossi. You heard the bossman: we've got work," he changed the subject, but based on the fiery look being sent his way by Reid and the teasing one by Emily, you'd bet that this conversation wasn't over.

Hotch signalled for you to start, so you stepped forward, got a little more serious for his sake, and began, "The serial killer you've been phoned in on is not a serial killer. The women he's killed are unfortunately collateral damage to a much bigger problem." Behind you, pictures of the paper left next to the bodies appear on screen. "The unsub is going after high-level members of the NSA who have fragments of a specific code. He's been leaving those fragments at the crime scenes. So far, he has 4—there are only 2 more. Once he gets the last two, it'll only be a matter of time before he's able to unlock a classified file, detailing every undercover op we have or have had in other countries."

The room was quiet. Morgan was the first to question, "So, he's a whistleblower?"

"No, not necessarily. Given his M.O. and need to taunt us with these papers, his goal isn't to expose the government—it's only a stepping stone to what he truly wants, which is chaos."

Emily spoke up next. "Well, he's clearly a narcissist, and he's sadistic at that. Otherwise, he wouldn't have killed these women like this."

Dr. Reid nodded, keeping his eyes on the file in front of him. "Craves control, finds a way to manipulate the situation and mold it into what he wants it to be." He looked up, talking with his hands while explaining, "Narcissists are devoted to themselves and will further themselves in whatever way possible. They lack empathy and find enjoyment in causing others pain, stemming from their grandiose sense of self-importance. Nathan Leopold and Richard Loeb were drawn in and obsessed with Nietzsche's idea of Übermenschen, supermen who possessed such high intelligence that it put them above the law. They later confessed to the police that they sought to commit 'perfect crime.' This unsub is likely suffering from the same sense of entitlement."

Rossi tipped his pen at him, agreeing, "Yeah, he's arrogant and he believes he can get away with this, hence the taunting. All he wants is to feed his ego, but he hides behind the whistleblower façade to absolve himself of blame."

"And he's impatient," Derek added. "4 bodies in one week. We don't have much time before he strikes again."

"No, we don't," you said. The screen changed to display the pictures of two men. "The last two people with the code are Malik Hussein and Ethan Torrie. I believe he'll go after Ethan first; he's in D.C. for this big gala tonight. That's where the unsub will make his move."

Emily looked between you and Hotch, almost as if she was unsure who she was addressing her question to. "So what's our plan?"

You, too, glanced at Hotch before looking back at her, splaying your hands out in front of yourself. "Well, we only have one course of action: wait for the unsub to approach Ethan."

Unexpectedly, Hotch interrupted you, saying, "Y/N and I will go in undercover." What? You held yourself back from widening your eyes and whipping your head around. "The rest of you will be waiting for our signal. Garcia, can you get us on the guest-list?"

"Already on it, Sir."

He nodded, firing orders away, "Alright, Morgan and Prentiss, I want you both to go back to the crime scenes. Talk to the owners of the establishments, bartenders, doormen—anybody who could've seen the unsub leave the building with the victims. Garcia, consult with CCTV footage. Rossi and Reid, I want you looking at his M.O. and why he didn't leave the men there with the women. JJ, contact The Post and tell them not to run the latest murder; it's imperative we keep this and the unsub's true motives out of the press. Y/N and I will go over tonight's plan."

They all voiced their confirmations and, like clockwork, filed out of the room until it was just you and Hotch left standing. The air suddenly got heavier—with what, you had no idea.

It felt different, old and new all at the same time, like everything and nothing you'd ever felt before. You couldn't pinpoint it, couldn't describe it.

Growing bored of the silence, you raised a brow, repeating, "'Y/N and I will go undercover?'"

Hotch, who was in the middle of collecting his things, paused and raised a brow of his own, turning to face you. "Yes. Is there a problem?"

You looked him up and down, taking your time and not bothering to be subtle about it. After a moment, you responded, "No." A smirk slowly came to your face. "Let's go over that plan."

He maintained his stare for a few seconds, reminding you of when you met. Eventually, he nodded and got to it. All the while, your mind ran rampant—but not with the case.

Agent Hotchner continued to surprise you.

And you'd be sure to return the favour.

❧

After planning for hours, you and Hotch came up with a decent story. He'd be going as himself. You'd pretend you were his girlfriend, his tag-along for the party, with a fake identity. His presence would make sense, but if people found out Y/N Y/L/N was there, they'd start to wonder things that this plan couldn't afford.

Your name wasn't widely known, nor was your face, but at a party like this, you had to be careful.

That's what you explained to Hotch.

"I don't understand. Nobody knows who you are. Not even Garcia could figure out who you really were when we met." He furrowed his brows in confusion.

You sighed, "There's going to be a lot of powerful people there, Hotchner. Everybody knows The Angel of Death, but there are some big fish in Washington that know she's Y/N."

This seemed to confuse him more. You surmised that he didn't like not knowing things. "Why do you say it like that—say your name as if it's not your name?" 

You gave him a look.

His eyes widened. And for the second time that day, you found yourself thinking that Aaron Hotchner was cute. "It's not your name?"

"Why do you think Penelope had such a hard time finding my credentials?" you inquired. You went on before he could answer. "I take it she didn't find my records at The Academy, either. She found that I went to Caltech, but she didn't find yearbook photos or my social media. She found that I grew up in Massachusetts, that my parents are dead, that I was born in '79. But otherwise, I'm a ghost, aren't I?" Your voice was somewhat playful.

Hotch didn't seem to find the humour in what you were saying.

"So everything about you is a lie." It wasn't a question.

Your eyes glinted with amusement. You leaned in to where he sat across from you on the other side of the table. If you didn't know any better, you'd say that Agent Hotchner stiffened. "'Nothing more than a rumour, an urban legend amongst criminals and internet sleuths. A myth,'" you whispered. "Does that sound familiar?"

He didn't respond.

"As you said, Agent Hotchner, I am a myth. I am not meant to exist. So find me another identity and show me that you're up for the task before this entire plan is derailed by a name."

Your memory was cut off by a knock at your door. You swiped your lipstick across your lips and they immediately quirked upward right after.

You took your time getting the door. Whether Agent Hotchner realized it or not—or rather, whether he was willing to admit it or not—this was a game. And you were nothing if not a damn good player.

Without knowing it, he started it when he picked you up off the street that day in '04. He moved another piece on the board when he walked into your office in '06. And then he asked to work on this case.

It didn't matter what he thought about you or what your name really was. All that mattered was the next move.

You opened the door and his eyes immediately widened on their own accord. They travelled down your body, tracing the outline of the red dress you'd picked out, finding the slit on the side. But this was all within a split-second.

In the blink of an eye, his eyes were back on yours. If you hadn't been paying attention, you would've missed it. He was hoping you did.

But you didn't.

You did, however, miss his ears going red when you turned around, leaving the door open as an invitation inside. 

"You're wearing a suit," you noted, smirking. "How out of character for you."

You heard the door shut, and then footsteps behind you. "Funny, Y/N."

You chuckled. "Please, I know you think I'm hilarious."

He lightly shook his head as you stood in front of your mirror, putting on your earrings. He took that moment to look around your apartment, eyes scanning over your living room. No pictures anywhere, no plants or art. You had a couch, but no television. He glanced to the adjoining kitchen. There was an espresso machine, but he was willing to bet that if he checked your fridge, it'd be empty. 

"You can stop trying to profile my apartment," you informed him, still adding the finishing touches to your outfit. "I don't stay here often."

"I can tell."

He watched as you picked up your heels then went to sit on the couch to put them on. He tried not to let his eyes wander, instead trying to look around the room some more, but even without having his eyes on you, he still couldn't get your picture out of his head.

Distractedly, he heard you absentmindedly ask, "Hey, whatever happened to Gideon and Greenaway?"

He looked at you to respond, seeing you get up. "Things with the job. Certain cases take more of a toll on others." He didn't explain that Elle spiralled or that Gideon lost everything he held dear. He preferred not to think about it.

You tilted your head. "Did things happen with you, too?"

He didn't answer, instead opting to suggest, "Let's go over the case one more time."

You nodded and let him get away with it.

Hotch schooled his expression. "You're Deirdre Carter. You're a CPA. We met years ago on a work conference but hit it off recently. We've been dating for five months."

"Dating," you repeat.

His brows furrowed. "Yes." He didn't understand why you were hung up on it until he saw you glance down at his hand. It's then that he realized he was still wearing his ring. "Oh."

Your voice got softer, and you didn't know if that was part of the game or not. "Look, Hotchner, you don't have to do this if you don't want to. I can do this solo."

"No—" he sighed, looking down at the ring he'd worn everyday for years on end. "I'm divorced. I guess I just wear it out of habit," he revealed.

"Oh."

He took it off and stuffed it in his jacket pocket. "Let's head out," he said. You nodded, leading him out.

And you didn't mention the ring again.

❧

Once you got to the building, you met Derek, who was in a secuirty uniform, at the front. He momentarily disabled the metal detector for you so that the guns on your thigh and in Hotch's boot weren't caught.

In the hall, the music played ceremoniously, an orchestra of jazz players working tirelessly to entertain D.C.'s wealthiest and most powerful. The President would be making an appearance later. You hoped to get this done and get out of here before that happened.

Your eyes found Torrie within a minute, subtly signalling his location to Hotch. He was by the bar, a redhead on his arm. The two of you went that way.

He ordered you drinks at the bar that he wouldn't drink, but as soon as your martini was in front of you, you were picking it up and taking a sip.

"What are you doing?" he hissed, talking through his teeth. "We don't drink on the job."

You smirked at him. "You don't drink on the job. I'm just keeping up appearances." You then took the olive and bit into it. For some reason, you enjoyed getting under Hotchner's skin.

He rolled his eyes at you, likely about to reprimand you again, but a voice in your ears stopped him. "Do the two of you have eyes on Torrie?"

Hotch turned to you and brought his hand to your face, cupping your cheek. To those surrounding you, he was just a man caressing his girlfriend—hell, the leap in your chest told you that you nearly bought it. But you knew he did this so that the mic hidden in his sleeve would be at your mouth. You held his stare, a sweet smile gracing your face as you replied to Rossi, "Yes. By the bar."

"Good. Prentiss is on the floor with the ambassador if you need her."

You leaned into Hotch, too, running your hands down his suit jacket while he glanced around for Emily. "Got it."

The next voice you heard was Garcia's. "Hello, my lovelies, I am watching you on camera. Hotch, to your left is the door through which you'll take our bad guy. It's being guarded by Reid and JJ as we speak."

You lowly thanked her, to which she stammered out a "you're welcome." Hotch took his hand away from your face and you removed yours from his chest, cursing the part of yourself that missed his touch.

If you weren't on a case, you'd have thought more about how pretty his eyes were.

The music suddenly changed, becoming a slow song. Your eyes darted behind Hotch to see Ethan and his date making their way to the dance floor. You downed the rest of your martini then grabbed onto his hand, wordlessly pulling him to the floor.

You felt him lightly tense when you put your hands around his neck. "Relax," you whispered. "Just go with it."

At that, he eased up, wrapping his hands around your waist. You moved to the beat of the song, taking control of your dance while he kept a close eye on Torrie. No one had approached them yet, you gathered.

The dance came easy to you, too easy, like it'd been rehearsed or like it was something you'd been doing all your life. Your feet moved synchronously like they had a mind of their own. You didn't have to think about it—it just happened.

It was funny, almost. The stiff and stoic Aaron Hotchner could dance. Your mind went back to when he smiled in the elevator earlier. It made you wonder what he was like before. Before he was a profiler or unit chief.

You know you were different before you were in this life, before you became Y/N.

You wondered what would've happened if you met back then, when you were just you and he was just him.

And just as soon as you started wondering, you no longer wanted to think about it. Instead, you asked him, "Did you ever think you and I would be dancing together like this when we met?"

He glanced down at you then looked away. "No." A ghost of a smirk came to his lips. "I thought I'd be putting you behind bars."

You chuckled. "I know. It was quite entertaining."

"To you, maybe." He glanced down at you again. "I don't like being blindsided."

"Oh, I know." When he glanced down at you this time, he saw your eyes twinkling. "That is precisely why it was so entertaining, Agent Hotchner."

He chuckled under his breath, and something in you fluttered. "You're something else, Y/L/N."

You hummed, murmuring, "And don't I know it?"

He was gonna say something else but then something in his expression changed. He was back to stoic, eyes hardening. You straightened your back and stopped dancing. "7 o'clock," he muttered.

You unwound your hands from his neck, turning around to see a man beelining at Torrie from across the room. But if you had your way, which you would, then he wouldn't make it to Ethan at all.

With Hotch hot on your heels, you headed his way, moving through the crowd effortlessly. Just before he was about to reach them, you inconspicuously unholstered your gun from your thigh and pressed it against his back, stopping him in his tracks.

Hotch caught up to you, standing to the side and obstructing the view. "Careful, friend. I wouldn't want to shoot you in front of all these people, but I will." As a warning, you clicked the safety off. 

The man tensed as Hotch grabbed his arm. Your voice was sweet in comparison to your sour words. "Now, you're gonna follow him or I'm gonna pump you full of lead. Capisce?" Neither you nor Hotch waited for a response, leading him towards the side doors that Garcia had notified you of.

Upon getting there, Reid and JJ opened the doors without a word and closed them immediately after you'd gone through them.

As soon as the doors closed, the unsub twisted Hotch's arm, prompting him to yelp. Simultaneously, he knocked the gun out of your hand, sending it thudding across the floor. 

He shoved you against the wall, knocking the wind out of your lungs. Meanwhile, Hotch threw a punch his way. A crack resounded through the hallway followed by the unsub growling. He threw a punch back that Hotch narrowly dodged, but in one quick motion, he pulled Hotch's tie, catching him off guard.

In a flash, he had Hotch in a chokehold, fighting for breath. You acted quickly, reaching for the knife sheathed on your thigh, running up behind the ubsub and holding it to his throat, causing him to go rigid.

"Let him go or I slit your fucking throat," you spat.

He didn't ease his hold, making you bring the knife closer, knicking him. "I said, let. him. go."

Begrudgingly, he let Hotch go, who was gasping for breath. You let him catch his bearings for a moment, but you had to alert him, "Hotchner, the cuffs."

He coughed but nodded, grabbing the cuffs from his pocket. You took them from him, shoving the unsub against the wall just as he did to you and pulling his arms behind him. You wrapped the cuffs around his wrists and tightened them until you heard him grunt.

"In case you didn't get the memo, you're under arrest, asshole."

Knowing this would never reach a courtroom, you didn't read him his rights or tell him what he was being arrested for. He knew.

Where he was going, he'd never forget it.

❧

You and Hotch stood to the side in an alley after you'd shoved the unsub into the back of a black sedan, watching the car drive off. 

"I know that you're just itching to interrogate him," you commented, your voice echoing in the night. "But trust me, that's somebody else's job now." You felt Hotch's eyes on you, but you didn't look at him.

His stare burned into the side of your head. "That wasn't a cop car," he said.

"No," you finally looked back at him. "it wasn't."

"Who was driving that car?"

"A CIA agent."

"And where is he going now?"

"To pay for his crimes," you slowly answered, narrowing your eyes. "Stop worrying about it."

He stepped closer to you. "He should be doing that in a federal prison, with a sentence decided by a judge and a jury. The families of those analysts, those women— they deserve closure."

You shook your head, an incredulous laugh leaving you. "You still don't get it, do you?" Your voice was teasing, but your undertone was hard and serious. "A trial means telling a bunch of people, including civilians, about ops that are not meant to exist. It's just not gonna happen."

Hotch kept staring at you for what felt like forever but was really only a few seconds, giving you the urge to squirm under his gaze. For some reason, you didn't like the way he was looking at you. Finally, he looked away, exhaling, "It's not right, Y/N."

Somewhere, deep inside, you felt a pang. You touched his shoulder, softly telling him, "You should know better than anyone that the law isn't about right and wrong." 

He still didn't look at you.

You sighed. "Thank you for your help, Agent Hotchner." You patted his shoulder one last time and then left the alley, walking through the door you came out of and, in doing so, you felt something change. 

The game was over.

You just couldn't tell who won.

By the time Aaron had noticed this change, he tried to follow you, but when he opened the door only to see an empty hallway, he realized it was too late.

You were gone.

And he didn't know why that disappointed him so much.

4. Unpredictable

New York, New York, 2008

Whenever Aaron was in New York, he liked to pick up good coffee and eat good food. But as he stood over a dead man's corpse, he felt his appetite vanish.

He and his team stood at the crime scene, analyzing it. It was different, but he couldn't shake the feeling that everything about these murders were different. There was something off about them, and he couldn't figure out exactly what it was.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a black car pull up next to the yellow tape, the Mercedes logo glinting in the light. He furrowed his brows then shook his head, thinking better of it. Stop thinking about her.

"Uniforms are rounding up witnesses."

Detective Cooper and Brustin's arrival made him look away from the car and toward them instead. "Doesn't sound like anyone got a clean look," Cooper said.

Morgan looked up at the security camera that should've caught everything but in reality caught nothing useful. "It's over in a flash," he remarked. "He's probably gone before anyone even realizes what's happening."

Right beside him, Kate asked, "Is this what it felt during the Son of Sam?"

Just as Brustin was about to answer, a new voice sounded from behind them. "Son of Sam is the least of your worries." His breath hitched. They all turned around, and Hotch instantly realized that he was right: that car was yours—and now you stood right in front of him.

You gave him a glance but then your eyes were back on Kate. "What you should be focused on is another 9/11."

Kate lightly scoffed. "My apologies— who are you?" 

"Y/N Y/L/N, CIA," you introduced yourself, flashing your badge. Recognition briefly flickered through her eyes. "And you must Kate Joyner, head of New York's field office." To be polite, you held out your hand, and she reluctantly shook it. "I'm here as the Agency's delegate, and I'll also be representing Homeland Security for the time being."

"Homeland Security?" You looked to Morgan. "It's nice to see you again, angel, but what does Homeland Security have to do here?"

You went to answer, but Joyner cut you off, "I'll ask the questions, Agent Morgan, thank you." Your eyes widened slightly in surprise, and a quick look at Derek told you that his did, too, but then Kate was looking at you again, waiting for you to answer.

Your mind was brought back to the situation at hand. You glanced at Hotch once more to see he was already looking at you, but then you looked away. "I have reason to believe that this guy is more than a serial killer. In fact, I have reason to believe this is more than one guy."

Kate crossed her arms. "What are you suggesting?"

Every time Hotch had seen you, no matter how serious the situation was, you were lighthearted, amused, knowing you'd come out on top. But this time, your voice was devoid of its usual playfulness as you disclosed to them a fact that changed their entire investigation.

"If I'm right, Agent Joyner, then we're dealing with terrorists."

❧

Once the initial shock from your revelation died down, you told them that you'd explain everything back at the field office. Unexpectedly, Morgan asked to ride back with you and you obliged, figuring his company wasn't too bad.

Hotch stared at you the entire time as you got in the car, and he continued to stare at you until you sped out of sight.

You didn't look back once.

"So, terrorism, huh?"

You glanced at Derek and smirked, finding that playful nature again. "I told you, I'd explain at the Bureau."

He shook his head at you, a similar smirk on his face, then he quizzed, "Hey, did Hotch happen to tell you why Joyner's giving me attitude?"

You furrowed your brows as you came to a stop light, turning toward him. "What makes you think I've talked to him?"

Derek snorted. "Please, every time I've seen the two of you together, you're all flirty—even when he was still with Haley."

"So what? I've flirted with Spencer before—doesn't mean I wanted to get into his pants," you defended.

His smirk widened. "I never said you wanted to get into the boss' pants."

"You insinuated it."

"Why, angel? Do you want to get into his pants?"

You deadpanned, "No, I do not." Despite yourself, you couldn't stop red from crawling to your cheeks.

"Yeah, keep telling yourself that." Right after, the light turned green, as if saving you from whatever this was. Then the teasing disappeared from Morgan's voice, replaced with curiosity. "Wait, so you're seriously telling me Hotch didn't call you?"

"Yes, Derek. That is exactly what I am telling you," you insisted, then you glanced back at him. "But to answer your question, Kate doesn't like you for the same reason she doesn't like me: power." He stared at you confusedly, so you elaborated, "Word on the steet is that the FBI wants to reassign her, and you're their star replacement."

"What?" Shock laced through his voice.

"What, are you telling me you actually didn't know?"

"No, I thought the Bureau was so proud of itself for stealing her away from Scotland Yard."

"Well, don't ask me to explain FBI politics to you. I'm in an entirely different organization, my guy."

Derek groaned in exasperation, making you laugh and forget about Hotch, even if it was only for a second.

❧

By the time you and Derek got to the field office, you were all business, unlike any time Hotch had ever seen you.

With the team gathered around you, you stood in front of the evidence board and started, "The unsubs' behaviour is questionable. They're disciplined, they're using countersurveillance. They take a quick shot then leave the scene immediately, not stopping to watch or enjoy the kill at all. There is nothing sexual about it, and that is because these killings are not the work of a serial killer. They're methodical. They look like mob hits at first glance, simulate gang initiations. They seem random, but they're not. The murders, just like the Death card you received, are a smoke screen."

Kate cut you off. "How can you be so sure?"

You suppressed your irritation at being interrupted and kept calm. Cooly, you explained, "Murders like these create panic— not just amongst the general population, but amongst law enforcement, as well; it is terror. It serves their greater goal." You gestured with your hands as you spoke. "The murders simulate a bombing. From there, they station someone to watch, gauge how long it takes police to respond."

Understanding flashed through Morgan's eyes. "At which point they bring in a second bomb."

"Exactly," you affirmed. "The goal is always to take out a first round of civilians, followed by a second wave of emergency responders. It's trial and error—it's how they practice. And if someone catches the shooter, that's fine because we just end up thinking we have a murderer; the cell is never compromised. And in creating such panic, they ensure the most urgent response time short of a bombing. It's by far the smartest way to plan for a terrorist attack."

You crossed your arms, giving them time to absorb your words. You didn't expect anyone to respond so soon, and you certainly didn't expect that person to be Hotch. "It's a theory, Y/N." His voice was soft, and that seemed to only add fuel to the fire.

You resisted the urge to scoff, sharply retorting, "Isn't any profile?"

He didn't answer. Perhaps that was the smartest choice; he didn't want to pick an argument with you, not now.

Hesistantly, Spencer spoke up, "I think— I think she's right." He walked behind you to the board, picking up a red marker and circling spots on the map before turning back around to face you. "I think they're targeting points of entry. All the murders have taken place near a bridge or tunnel."

"Holland Tunnel, Midtown Tunnel, Manhattan Bridge," Emily muttered.

"If bombs went off, emergency response would shut down any ability to get in or out of the city," JJ remarked. "It's— it's like people would be trapped on the island."

It looked like you had everyone convinced, even Hotch—despite his reluctance to believe you—but for some reason, Kate Joyner just couldn't let up. She crossed her arms. "I still fail to see how you came to the conclusion of multiple shooters."

Unbothered, you replied, "Having followers do the shootings would ensure they're willing to kill or be killed for their cause."

She countered, "But is there any evidence that that's the case?" 

You narrowed your eyes, going to respond when someone's ringtone sounded. Derek picked up his phone and put it on speaker. You could almost thank whoever it was for stopping you from saying something you would or wouldn't regret. 

"Talk to me, babygirl."

Penelope's voice came through the phone. "Okay, I have bad news then badder, connected news. What would you like me to start with?"

Derek glanced up at you, then at Hotch. "Gimme the bad news, Garcia."

"Alright, well, I was looking at the surveillance footage from the murders, specifically the most recent compared to the previous, and found something very, very off. I'll share my screen with you." Emily turned on the laptop on the table closest to all of you, and the footage immediately appeared. Silently, you watched the videos one after the other, and you had a feeling that Garcia was just about to vindicate you. "You guys see what I saw?"

"Well, he sprints off in one and walks calmly in the other. It's two entirely different demeanours," Morgan said.

"Exactly, my dove. So check it out, I did a digital perspective analysis rendering on all the shootings we have footage of. Now the first two were inconclusive, but again, in the last two, I found something très weird." Garcia did a freeze-frame, her analysis software appearing. "Your calm, walking type—he's about 6 foot 1." The screen changed to the other scene. "But your sprinter, he's like 5'9", 5'10" tops."

While the air in the office got colder, you stood there holding back the urge to smirk. You saw both Morgan and Hotch glance at you from the corner of your eye, but you only turned to Kate, seeing somewhat of a defeated expression on her face.

"Is this evidence enough for you, Agent Joyner?"

❧

That surveillance footage was enough confirmation for you, no matter what Joyner had to say about it. Following Garcia's revelation, you walked away from the team's makeshift conference room and walked into the bullpen, pulling out your phone and dialling Homeland Security.

You notified them of the situation at hand and that you were expecting something big soon, but not yet, telling them not to act without your say-so. It was of vital importance that you controlled the situation; you couldn't let the unsubs know you were onto them, so you couldn't make any moves just yet, either.

You hung up the phone, sighing. You hated cases like these. Being The Angel of Death was something you got used to; you could control that, but dealing with a cell like this wasn't just more challenging—it was unpredictable, and unpredictable was something you weren't quite fond of.

You turned around and nearly jumped out of your skin when you saw Hotch standing right behind you. Your hand slapped against your chest. "Holy shit, Hotchner, don't they teach you not to a sneak up on a girl in FBI school?"

Something almost like a smile came to his lips, the last thing you were expecting from him, especially at a time like this. "I'd hardly call that sneaking up on you. And according to you, you've been to 'FBI school,' so you should know."

You scoffed. "Regardless." Hotch's eyes remained on you, and the corners of his lips never went down. An uncomfortable silence then settled between you, despite the loud bustling in your surroundings.

You were hoping you could've gone this entire visit without speaking to him alone.

He must've noticed this, because his next words were, "You've been avoiding me."

You tensed ever so slightly. You'd been here all of five minutes, and he thought you were avoiding him. "I have not been avoiding you—"

"Yes, you have."

"We have bigger problems to deal with. Not everything is about you, Hotchner."

"Why are you avoiding me, Y/N?" You hated how his voice sounded, calm and soft. You hated the fact that he was even asking you this right now. You wanted him to be the stoic guy he always was. You didn't like this. And deep down, you knew that that was why you were avoiding him.

You didn't like the unpredictable.

And Aaron Hotchner was just that.

In lieu of responding, you dodged the question, biting back, "Why do you care?"

Hotch stilled as if you'd just hit him with the question of the century. It was then that he realized he didn't know. He couldn't answer you because he didn't have the answer himself.

He didn't know what he was going to say when he opened his mouth, and he supposed he never would, because a second later, a phone rang.

A sigh left his lips as he went to pick the phone up off some agent's desk, and you watched as the stoic man you knew returned. Yet, for some reason, you weren't as relieved as you thought you'd be.

"Hotchner." Kate chose that moment to walk out of her office while Morgan and Rossi came up from behind you. Hotch's voice became grave. "Does it look it could be one of our guys?"

Derek took the words right from your mouth. "What's going on?"

Hotch put down the phone. "We've got eyes on one of them," he answered. "He's on the subway platform at 59th and Lex."

"59th—? We could've been right there." He looked at Kate with an accusatory glare. The fury that lit up in his eyes and the way she refused to look back told you there was a conversation between them that you missed.

Over the phone, you heard Garcia let out a shaky breath, telling you all that the unsub shot the woman.

Kate paced. "Where the hell are the police?" 

Meanwhile, you picked up another telephone from the adjacent desk. "This is Y/N Y/L/N with the CIA. We have a murder suspect on 59th and Lex, subway platform. Hurry."

You slammed the phone down as you heard Penelope fret, "God, he's getting away."

"Garcia, can you get eyes on him above ground?"

A few clicks were audible as she responded, "He's heading west on 59th Street."

Kate spoke up, stating what you already knew. "If he makes it to the park, we've lost him."

"We lost the visual," another woman said.

Derek scoffed while Rossi questioned, "Are the police on the scene?"

"Negative."

And just like that, without another word, it was clear to everyone in the room that you just lost your only suspect. 

You pinched the bridge of your nose, cursing under your breath. Next to you, Derek made his frustrations much more known. "We could've had that guy," he snapped.

Kate finally looked at him. "Even if we were on that platform, odds are he would have moved onto someone isolated."

This didn't console him at all. "Maybe, but it was worth taking a shot—"

"I had every available man on the street."

Morgan stepped forward, seething. "And I suggested to you that you use this team." Realization came over you. Now you understood why he was so angry; Kate let her resentment of him get in the way of the case, and that decision may have just cost you a life.

Just as you thought Hotch couldn't get any more unpredictable, he scolded, "Morgan, second-guessing doesn't do us any good right now."

Your brows raised, but he didn't look at you, nor did he look at Derek. 

"Hotch, we have a possible terrorist attack coming. How am I supposed to look these cops in the eye and tell them that we're actually here to help them?"

Hotch's reply was sharp. "We're here to present a profile. That's what we need to do."

Derek ignored him, pressing, "I said to put as express stops. 14th, 42nd, 59th— and that's exactly where they hit—"

"It's not your place to have this discussion." This time, Hotch did look at him, and his eyes were hard.

Immediately, you cut in, spitting out his name. "Agent Hotchner." Hotch's eyes went right to you. You stepped forward, firing, "We have six bodies. And right now, I have to call Homeland Security and tell them that we not only have another one, but we also just lost a valuable chance to find one of the perpetrators."

"Which is exactly why we need to stay focused."

"Focused?" Derek echoed. Then he took a step closer, standing eye to eye with his boss. "From where I'm standing, all your focus is on her."

Kate's head ducked down, and from there, it didn't take much for you to connect the dots. All of a sudden, it made sense why Derek had asked you about Kate earlier instead of going straight to Hotch.

And to think that, just a few moments ago, he'd been going after you.

With a tick in his jaw, Hotch commanded, "Take a walk. Now."

Derek stared at him for a split-second before walking off without another word. 

"You know, I think I'm gonna take that walk with him," you muttered. And just like that, it was as if Hotch realized you were still there.

He went to say your name, but you were turning your back and walking away before he could even utter the first syllable.

Unpredictability. What a fickle thing.

You hated it.

❧

You found Derek at a nearby bar, the closest bar to the field office. Contrary to what you said to Hotch, you didn't come looking for him; he just so happened to find the same place you did.

Before you even pulled out the barstool, he was sighing. "I know. I was out of line."

You lightly snorted. "I'm not here to chastise you, Derek." He looked up at you, surprise flashing through his eyes. "I'm just here to drink." Right on cue, the bartender came up to you and asked you wanted to drink, to which you ordered brandy, neat.

When said drink arrived in front of you and you downed it in one go, it prompted him to ask, "Aren't you still on the job?"

A slight chuckle left you. "Morgan, I run an entire CIA ops division and then I also get asked to do things like this." You then deadpanned, "Trust me, I can hold my liquor."

He held his hands up in surrender, an amused expression on his face before something serious took it over, wiping the smile from his face. "I'm sorry about Joyner, by the way." When you look at him confused, he explained, "I didn't have to say that. Not in front of you."

You sighed. Not this again. "Derek, I have nothing going on with your boss. So whatever the deal is with him and Kate is absolutely none of my business." For some reason, the words stung coming out of your mouth, and you didn't like it one bit.

He left it alone and didn't press the issue further (thankfully). You glanced at the beer in front of him. You nodded toward it, stating, "You haven't touched that."

He glanced at it. "Guess I don't have the appetite for it right now."

You hummed. "Or you want to go back."

He let out a long, dramatic sigh, nearly making you laugh. "I have to apologize to her, don't I?" This time, when you nodded and he ran a hand over his bald head, you did laugh. "Fucking hell."

You sarcastically patted his shoulder. "Don't sweat it, sweetheart. I'll walk back with you."

"Sweetheart?" you heard him question as you stood up, putting enough money down for both of your drinks. "And now you're paying for me? You're threatening my manhood here, angel."

"Get over it, Morgan."

And as he let out a hearty laugh, you let yourself pretend that you didn't have a different agent on your mind entirely.

❧

Upon getting back to the office, you suddenly wished you'd had another drink as you were informed that there was not only another shooting, but Detective Cooper was shot after he and Prentiss chased after him.

Kate seemed to have taken Derek's suggestion and sent the team out on the streets in the hour and a half you were away. In that time, Prentiss and Cooper nearly got one of the shooters, but he was fast; he could've gotten away. Yet he stopped and shot Cooper, prompting Emily to fire a shot of her own.

Suicide by cop.

You hung up the phone, walking back into the room after telling Homeland that you'd be calling with another update soon. "Three shootings in one day," you said, catching everyone's attention. "They're ramping up to something."

Morgan held his phone up in the air and wiggled it. "Yeah, well, while you were on the phone, Garcia called. They hacked into at least one camera at every scene and have been watching from day one."

You cursed under your breath just as Kate called your name. "Y/N." You looked up at her in half-veiled surprise, seeing her standing with her arms crossed, a somewhat uncomfortable look on her face. "Aaron told me more about your position in the CIA, how you're more well-versed in situations such as these." It looked like she had a hard time getting the words out, despite the sincerity in her tone. "I'd like you to take the lead on this." 

You were sure that the surprise must've shown on your face, courtesy of fatigue, but you quickly masked it and nodded. You took one deep breath, and then you dived in. "We need to hit the ground running." You turned to everyone individually as you gave them instructions. "Rossi, I'd like you to talk to the Commissioner. He'll be familiar with you." He nodded and left the room. "Derek, you brief Homeland Security, tell them I sent you. I want them to know we're expecting them to strike any minute now."

"You got it, angel."

You turned to Emily, who was already ahead of you. "I'll head to the hospital, check on Cooper, and brief Detective Brustin."

"Good. And Spencer—"

He (with a creepy accuracy) anticipated what you were going to say before you even said it. "JJ and I will talk to the Port Authority Police."

You nodded then realized that left only two people, unwelcome dread filling you. Out of a stubborn attempt to prove his earlier claim about avoiding him wrong, you looked to Hotch but still didn't meet his eyes. "Agent Hotchner, you and Kate should speak to the mayor. I have to make some calls to the DOD. We'll all meet back here as soon as possible. We are crunched for time, but the one advantage that we have is that they don't know we know they're watching."

Everyone who hadn't already left nodded and got to their tasks. Hotch looked like he wanted to stick around and say something to you, but as you said, the clock was ticking. 

You called the DOD and briefly explained what Homeland Security had likely already spoken to them about, that you saw a terrorist event on the horizon. They told you that, luckily, the Deputy Secretary of Defense was in town, only ten, maybe twenty minutes away from where you were. 

Quickly, you gathered your things and made your way out of the building. At the exit, however, you found exactly who you didn't want to see.

Hotch and Kate.

They hadn't left yet.

They stood outside the door, facing each other. He had his hand on her elbow, and he was saying something you couldn't make out. Whatever it was, it made her lips upturn.

You couldn't recognize the feeling that crawled through your veins at that moment. The green monster and you hadn't been acquainted in a while, but for some reason, she was showing up, making your body her home, and you hated it.

Shaking off whatever it was you were feeling, you pushed the door open. Hotch noticed you first. "Y/N," he said. He took his hand off her arm. A weight was lifted off your chest.

"Agent Hotchner," you greeted, promptly turning to the blonde and doing the same. "Agent Joyner. I've gotten word that the Deputy Secretary of Defense is in New York; I'm heading to see her."

Kate nodded. "Good. Aaron and I are on our way to the mayor's office now." She turned, starting to walk away, and then you realized she was heading in the same direction as your car.

Fuck. They parked next to you.

You started walking, too, Hotch now at your side. Kate was ahead of you guys. You're sure that Hotch could naturally walk faster than you, but he remained at your side. This is deliberate, you thought.

Your conversation from earlier hung in the air. With Kate gone, the tension between you was now palpable. But he wouldn't say anything, you assured yourself, not with her in earshot.

But perhaps you underestimated him. With every meeting, Aaron Hotchner continued to surprise you. He had become unpredictable to you.

Yet, the two of you would soon bear witness to just how unpredictable life could truly be.

Just as you were nearing your vehicles, Aaron opened his mouth to say something, but a loud boom cut him off.

Before either of you could register it, you were sent flying backward, shockwaves rippling through your body.

And then everything went black.

❧

New York City has never been so quiet, you thought, blinking your eyes open. And you've never been able to see the stars in this city, either, but tonight, you saw them just fine. Part of you wondered if you were dreaming.

No, not a dream. A hallucination.

There's been an accident.

The thought hit you like a ton of bricks as pain erupted in your side. A groan left you unwarranted. You went to touch it then hissed at the throbbing. There was no blood there, though, no wound, so it must've been the bones.

Nowhere else hurt—not that bad, at least. You tested yourself, trying to sit up. It hurt to do so, but you did it. And when you did, you were met with the sight of an SUV, up in flames.

No, not an accident. This was planned.

But it wasn't your car. It would've made sense if it were your car, if you were the direct target, but you weren't. Your mind ran a mile a minute. Why would they blow up a random SUV?

It's then that you remember it wasn't a random SUV. It was Hotch's.

Hotch and Kate.

They were with you.

With that realization, any and all intellectual thought escape your grasp. You shot upward, the pain becoming nonexistent as a surge of adrenaline flowed through your body. "Hotch!" you screamed. No answer. "Hotch! Kate!" No one answered. "Aaron!" You continued to cry his name but no one answered.

Tears you welled up in your eyes. It was lost on you that you hadn't cried in years. It was equally lost on you that this was the first time you'd ever said his name.

You spun around, letting go of a breath you didn't know you were holding when you spotted a man in a suit, standing there, just staring at the fire. You jogged over to him and called out his name, but he didn't move his head. You tried again. "Aaron." No response. "Aaron!"

Finally, he looked at you. A plethora of emotions could be seen on his face. Confusion. Anger. Fear. Then worry. "Y/N," he breathed. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine." That was a lie, but you could handle the pain well. You had good experience. "Are you?"

"Yes, I think so." 

You took a quick moment to examine him, the cut by his brow, the blood by his ear; you think back to how he didn't respond to your calls. Concussion, you thought, and a ruptured ear drum.

You take ahold of his arm, gently but firmly, and slowly asked him, "Aaron, where's Kate?" 

He blinked, glancing back at the wreck and then back at you. You watched him swallow. "I—"

"Hey! Are the two of you okay?"

Your eyes and his simultaneously snapped to the voice that'd just appeared, seeing a scrawny kid stand in front of you. Like a switch had been flipped, the abundance of emotions on his face dissipated into one.

Determination.

"What's your name?" he questioned.

The kid looked at him, confused. "What?"

Hotch repeated, "What's your name?"

As if he thought you two were crazy, he glanced between you warily. "Sam," he replied.

Hotch didn't look at him or acknowledge his name as he ordered, "Call 911." 

"Yeah— yeah, I did."

"Call 911— tell that there's been an explosion."

"Sir, are you okay?" His eyes darted to you. "Ma'am, are you hurt?" Momentarily, he glanced down, his eyes catching the gun on your belt. He looked to Hotch, finding the same thing. Stunned, he looked back up. "Are you guys cops?"

Hotch's eyes were still on the fire. "Call 911. Tell them... that a— that a federal agent—" Without warning, he took off running towards the car, yelling, "Kate!"

"Hotch!" You went to follow him but the kid stopped you.

"Okay so you want me to say you're a federal agent?"

You turned around, eyes blazing. "Call 911. Tell them that there's been a car explosion, involving two FBI agents and one CIA officer." You barely finished your sentence before you were running after Hotch.

By the time you got to him, he was taking off his jacket, about to shield himself and run right into the car but you stopped him. "Aaron!" 

His eyes darted to you then travelled behind you. The dread painted on his features mixed with relief, but you couldn't tell which emotion was stronger. You turned, following his line of sight, and saw Kate lying on the ground, a trail of blood leading to her body.

Without missing a beat, you both ran to her, her coughing becoming more audible as you got closer. Aaron got down immediately, and her first words were, "My purse. I can't find my purse."

He shushed her. "Don't move, don't move."

"Aaron, my purse."

Shock. She's in shock.

If only just to placate her, Hotch glanced around for it. "I don't think you had one," he said.

"I must've dropped it," she gasped, moving her head.

"Kate—" you cut in from above, "Kate, you need to stop trying to move."

She looked up at you, her eyes widening at whatever she saw. "Y/N. Y/N, what happened?"

You ran a hand through your hair. "I don't— I don't know. A bomb. An IED, I think." You glanced back at the car, your mind going back to the same race it was racing in before you found Aaron.

"An IED?" she echoed. "I have to get up."

"No. No, no, no. Lie down. Lie still. You need to lie still," he pleaded with her.

Suddenly, she caught your attention back. "Am I moving my legs?"

Hotch shushed her again at first, then he questioned, "What?"

Both of you glanced down at her legs at the same time. You resisted the urge to cup your mouth.

You were gonna be sick.

Weakly, she asked again, "Am I moving my legs?"

You didn't have the heart to answer her. From the looks of it, neither did Aaron, because he changed the subject. "I'm going to have to turn you and see where the blood is coming from," he said.

"Do it."

"Alright? Okay." He turned her while you focused on the sirens wailing in the distance, getting closer. The sound blended in with Kate's crying until it was all one and the same to you.

Police cars and ambulances soon pulled up just ahead of you, maybe a hundred yards away. You stood taller, yelling, "Officer down!" When they didn't come any closer, you flailed your arms. "Officer down! Here! There's an officer down!"

Kate's voice, ever so quiet, cut through the noise like a knife. "They're not coming." You turned to her, seeing her look at both of you defeatedly. "We told them not to. Remember?"

Your own words rang through your head. The goal is always to take out a first round of civilians, followed by a second wave of emergency responders.

The reality of the situation struck you. They weren't coming.

"The first wave of responders are the targets," she got out. "ESU orders are not— to let anyone in until the area is cleared."

"No." You shook your head. "I'm not taking that as an answer."

"Y/N—"

"We are getting you out of here, Kate, come hell or high water." Your previous aversion to her no longer mattered. She was lying on the ground covered in blood, unable to move her legs. All that mattered was getting her out.

Without wasting another second, you ran toward the barricade. ESU officer braced their rifles, but you had your badge ready as you stood a safe distance away from them. You were trying to think calmly, as calmly as you could. Your ribs stung as you held the badge up in the air.

The words were spoken in an erratic panic. "My name is Director Y/N Y/L/N, I'm a senior officer of the CIA. Behind me are SSAs Aaron Hotchner and Kate Joyner. She is injured— badly—"

A man stepped forward and cut you off cooly, "I understand that, ma'am, but I have orders not to let anyone in—"

You lost it. "Screw your orders! She can't fucking move!"

"Ma'am, my orders are what they are."

"Your orders are what they are," you repeated under your breath, a humourless chuckle escaping. "What's your name?"

He squared his shoulders. "It's Captain Warner, ma'am."

"Well, Captain Warner," you spat. "Allow me to re-introduce myself. My name is Director or Agent Y/L/N, not ma'am. Director. And I am quite familiar with your orders, Captain; I gave them. You are here because I made the call that put you here. And, so help me God, if you don't listen to this order, I will make the call that relieves you of your position."

Warner didn't appear to be shaken, but you could see the cloud of doubt floating in his eyes. You'd think that anyone would grapple for their job, but Warner was being difficult. "I apologize, Director, but I can't do that."

Your nostrils flared. You were just about to continue telling him off when an awfully familiar voice sounded, asking for someone in charge. Your eyes widened. "Derek!"

Derek's head snapped your way. "Holy shit. Y/N!" He came running towards you but was stopped by the same officers that kept you from crossing the barricade, holding up their guns.

"This area is restricted," he said.

He held up his badge. "I'm Agent Morgan, FBI. That's my friend—"

"This area is restricted," Warner repeated, barely looking at him. "I will take care of your friend. Now go back to the Federal Building. There are evac marshaling spots. Check in and make sure they know where you are."

Morgan held his ground, stepping in front of Warner and retaliating, "I am not about to do that."

"Get out of my face or I'll have you bodily removed, Agent."

"Derek." You caught his attention. "Hotch and Kate are down there."

He spun around. "That's my boss down there!"

"My orders are what they are." 

You scoffed at the recycled statement while Derek argued, "I don't give a damn what your orders are!"

"I get it, Agent, but we've been told by you" he gave you a glance "'Responders are the targets.' So, until the blast site is cleared, no one goes in."

Morgan looked back at you then back at the Captain with a renewed resolution, trying a different approach. "You're Marine Corps, right?" Warner didn't respond, looking down. "Right?"

"Please. Go back to the marshaling point."

"I'm not doing it." He pointed to the site. "I'm not just going to let my man lie down there like that."

As if on cue, Hotch screamed, "Someone! Damnit, we're here!" You nearly flinched at the sheer pain in his voice, and Derek certainly didn't look unaffected, either.

"'Never leave a man behind.' You do remember that, don't you?"

Hotch kept screaming as Morgan and Warner stared each other down. It seemed that he must've gotten to him, because within just a moment, he said, "Go."

Derek didn't waste another second, immediately running to you and grabbing onto your shoulders. "Y/N, are you alright?"

"I'm fine! I'm fine, it's Kate."

He nodded and then took off following with you trailing closely behind, but not before you gave Captain Warner a pointed glare.

When you got to Hotch, the kid was back, seemingly tending to Kate as Morgan explained, "They're not letting any ambulances down here until they clear the scene." He glanced at the kid like he just noticed he was there. "Kid, you've gotta get behind the barricades. Let's go." The kid didn't move. "Go!"

"Go, Sam." At Hotch's word, the kid got up and ran, but your attention was focused solely on Kate, checking her vitals.

"Talk to me. Can we carry her?" Morgan barely gave him time to respond. "Hotch, can we carry her?"

"No, I tried. Morgan—" he paused, intaking a shaky breath, "she's going to bleed to death if we don't get her out of here. We've got to do something."

Derek's phone ringing cut off whatever he was going to say. He picked it up immediately. "Garcia, I got Hotch and Y/N, but listen to me, you got to get somebody down here right away. You hear me? Right now." You didn't hear what Garcia said next, but it caused his head to snap up. "What? You're absolutely sure?" He glanced at you then to the kid who you realized never left.

The kid held his hands out like he was asking what you were waiting for, causing you to tilt your head, confused.

Morgan hung up the phone and then his next words shocked you. "Hotch. The kid. He's the bomber."

Your eyes went wide before instantly going to Hotch. "Are you okay to stay here?" you asked.

He didn't even think about it. "Go."

With that, you and Morgan took off running. The kid bolted, leaving you to chase after him.

Despite the heels on your feet (that luckily weren't stilettos) and obvious bruise to your side, you couldn't feel pain. All you feel was the pure adrenaline pumping through your veins. You hadn't been so ready to fight in ages. The anger coursing through your body was unparalleled.

This kid wasn't getting away with this, and you'd make sure of it.

You chased the kid down the street, Morgan ahead of you. An ambulance passed you while you ran, and you prayed it'd be heading Hotch's way.

You kept chasing after the kid, turning a corner and he was gone, but Morgan was already heading down the stairs for the subway, so you knew he was down there.

You ran down the stairs, skipping steps as you went, following Morgan's lead and pulling out your gun. Civilians filled the station, evacuating. "Out of the way!" you screamed, pushing past them.

"Move! Where'd he go? Where?" Some pointed straight ahead, so you kept running.

You got down to where the subway was, but by now, it was empty. You came to a stop next to Morgan, holding up your gun.

"Show your face, you son of a bitch!"

No one showed. You nodded to the train and panted, "Morgan, I'll take the back. You take the front."

Heaving, he nodded, going for the front. You entered the train with your gun held high, pointing it on either side of the door. You walked through the cart slowly, checking beheind yourself periodically to ensure the kid wouldn't sneak up on you.

You pushed open the door to the next cart warily. It was just as empty as the previous one. You went for the next cart. Nothing again. You met Morgan in the middle. "Nothing," you said.

"Me neither. But there's a door at the front. I'm thinking he could've hopped through there," he told you.

You nodded and followed him there, accepting his help and jumping down. Carefully, with your gun and flashlight in hand, you walked on the tracks, avoiding the power supply. You shouted, "We know you're in here, kid. Show your fucking face, you coward!"

A noise sounded, making you turn around to check it while Morgan continued forward. "You've got nowhere to run, man. You hear me? There's nothing down here for you."

"Is that all you see?" At the sound of the kid's voice, you spun around, moving your flashlight around. "Huh? Darkness?"

You caught up to Morgan, and then the kid showed himself. Your flashlight revealed his shoes lying on the ground while he slowly walked on the rail, balancing himself like this was a game. You cocked your gun. "You listen to me, you little shit. This is not a fucking game. Get your ass off the tracks and put your hands on top of your fucking head. Do it now."

When he failed to listen to you, Derek yelled, "Do it now!"

The kid did as you said, but not to listen to you. It was to mock you. "You will lose in the end," he said.

Derek moved forward. "Shut up. Shut your mouth."

"You wanna know why?" He continued on like he'd never said a word. "Because you fear what we embrace."

Before you could do anything, he took one foot off the track and put it on the third rail. "Get off the— no! No, no!" Derek and you were forced backward as the light blinded your eyes. Without even lifting your eyes up, you knew undoubtedly that the kid was dead.

He just killed himself right in front you.

"Damnit." You reached to run a hand through your hair but you were stopped by the stabbing pain in your ribs, suddenly reappearing. You hissed, "Ah, shit."

"Y/N?" Within a blink, Derek was in front of you. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"I'm fi— fuck." Your knees buckled, but Morgan caught you, holding onto by your waist. When that caused another hiss, he switched his hold to your arms.

"I think you might've broken some ribs. How the hell didn't you notice this before?"

"I— it didn't feel this bad before."

Morgan cursed under his breath. "Your adrenaline is wearing off. We need to get you to a hospital."

"No, I'm o—" a sharp stab cut you off, making you grunt. "Fine. But what about Kate?" 

"We both saw that ambulance drive their way," he reasoned. "They're gonna be okay. Look, if we get back and they're still there, we can stay, alright?"

You thought over his proposal and eventually relented and let him lead you off the tracks, giving in to the pain. You just hoped that he was right, that they were okay.

Please let them be okay.

❧

You arrived at the hospital in record time, passing through the streets like light work. After receiving confirmation that Hotch and Kate were at Saint Barclays, he drove the two of you there, too, insisting that a doctor see you despite your equal insistence that you were fine.

Now, you sat on an ER bed. You had a few cuts here and there but nothing too deep; you were given sutures for one cut across your cheek. The doctor wasn't looking at you right now; she was looking at your chart, giving you time to glance around the triage room.

You weren't a big fan of hospitals, never were. They were never a source of good news, and every hospital you stepped into smelled the same, like bleach and chemicals. When you were younger, you were convinced that this was to cover up the smell of death.

That wasn't too far off.

The doctor pulled you out of your revierie, snapping the chart shut. "So, Ms. Y/L/N, I've ruled out the possibility of a collapsed lung, but you've broken 4 of your left true ribs," she informed you. "From what your partner has told me, you've over-exerted yourself, and thus exacerbated the issue."

"I'm a CIA officer and had to chase a suspect," was the only explanation you offered.

She deadpanned. "I understand that, Ms. Y/L/N, but you've just made your healing process ten time harder."

You gave her a short smile. "I've been through worse."

She looked at you for a few more seconds before she sighed, re-opening the chart book. "I can prescribe you some medication for the pain."

You declined perhaps a bit too quickly. "No, that's alright."

Slowly, she looked up at you, her eyes questioning. "No? Why not? I can imagine you're in a great deal of pain right now."

At her inquiry, you were reminded of someone else's interrogative questions. Hotch's voice filled your head, Why do you say it like that—say your name as if it's not your name?

Your mind travelled back to a time you weren't Y/N. There was a girl with a different name who wore your face, a girl you separated yourself from entirely. She didn't grow up thinking she'd have a future in law enforcement—she didn't even think she'd have a future at all.

She hung around the wrong crowd and picked up bad habits, habits like oxycodone and amphetamines. But you weren't her anymore.

You were 7 years sober.

You'd rather not explain all of this to the attending in front of you—you'd rather not explain it to anyone. Instead, you just said, "I have a high pain tolerance. I can handle it."

She stared at you warily, but otherwise, there wasn't much she could do but accept your decision. "I'd advise against that, but it is your choice."

You pursed your lips into what you hoped was a small smile. "It is."

She kept her persistent stare until she eventually gave up, leaving the makeshift room. You didn't wait long before you left, too, jumping off the table and pushing back the curtain. You walked through the halls in search of the tan-skinned man you came in with, avoiding looking anywhere but ahead of you.

Hospitals were unpredictacle.

You didn't like that.

You turned a corner, and as if you just had good luck, Derek was there, already walking your way. 

He raised a brow at you. "You all good, angel?" 

You fell into step beside him, letting him lead the way to wherever you were going and flashing him a flirtatious smile. "Never been better, muscles." It wasn't a total lie; the pain had mostly subsided, and you'd felt worse in your life.

Morgan didn't bat an eyelash. "Well, that's good because we need to get moving. The team's on the way."

At the mention of the BAU, your thoughts were re-directed. Without stopping, you glanced over at Derek and gave him a quick once-over. He seemed normal: he was flirting with you, no signs of dejection. So Hotch must've been alright. Still, though, you felt compelled to ask, "Hotchner and Joyner. Are they okay?"

If Derek noticed the small blip in your voice, he didn't say anything. You weren't sure if you even noticed it, either. "Hotch is fine, back to barking orders and being a drill sergeant. Kate's in surgery, though."

You couldn't explain the wave of calm that came over you at that moment. You couldn't explain why you even cared.

But you did.

You nodded in response and changed subjects. "Has anything happened since the first blast?"

"No. Nothing."

An exasperated sigh left you. "That doesn't make any sense. Something should've happened by now." You ran a hand through your hair, your gears turning. "I mean, why go through all this trouble just to hit a single SUV with a few agents? Why not wait until we were in our cars?"

"I don't know," he replied. "What I'm still stuck on is why the kid would stay knowing we'd figure him out."

"Yeah, why would he stay—" suddenly, you halted in your tracks, cutting yourself off as memories rushed to the forefront of your brain.

[Thank you for your input, Ms. Y/L/N. The Secretary of Defense is unavailable at the moment, so the Deputy Secretary will be fielding all defense matters for the moment. She happens to be in town, and she'd like to be briefed in person, if that's alright.]

Yes, I can do that. Just send me an address.

Then you heard the voices of Secret Service agents in your head: I'm sorry, but this hospital is on strict bypass.

"What? What is it?" Derek's voice shook you out of your reverie. You looked up to see him standing in front of you, a worried expression on his face. You would've laughed if it weren't so serious. He probably thought you had a concussion—and while you didn't, what you were going to say was worse than that.

"Derek," you started.

Your tone must've scared him because he stepped closer. "What?"

You paused, mulling over the details in your head. Secret Service was here. Someone important was in the building, someone like the Secretary of Defense. And that bomber just so happened to stick around until an ambulance showed up, taking Hotch and Kate straight here. 

Sam didn't wait until you were cars, and that wasn't a careless mistake. It wasn't because he was so excited that he couldn't wait. It was because that blast wasn't meant to kill you, not on impact.

It was meant to take you here.

When you made up your mind, you took a step closer to him and lowered your voice, not wanting to attract panic in spite of the fact that it'd happen, anyway. Your voice was rigid.

"I think there's a bomb in this hospital."

❧

After quickly explaining your theory to Derek, you parted ways; he went to go find the team while you took off to find the head of that Secret Service detail.

Any uneasiness you felt being in this hospital increased a tenfold, no longer because of the fact that it was a hospital but because it could blow any minute now. You knew you weren't scared, though—and maybe you should've been, but this was the job.

You found the SS soon enough, calling out to them, "Hey, men in black!"

Your volume turned heads, including theirs. The bald man stood up from where he was leaned over on a counter and greeted you first, leading you to believe he was in charge. "Ms. Y/L/N." So he knew who you were. That made this a lot easier.

You didn't waste any time. "The Secretary of Defense is in this hospital, isn't he?"

"Ma'am, I know you're high up on the ladder, but—"

You cut him off briskly, "There is a bomb in this building, and it's rigged to assassinate the Secretary." 

The agent whose name you didn't ask for stiffened but adapted quickly, ordering the agents behind him to hit the alarms all without looking away from you. "Where is it?" he then questioned.

"The ambulance my colleague drove in, I believe." The word colleague tasted wrong on your tongue, but you didn't have the time to dwell on it. "Is it already in the basement?"

"Yes."

"Okay, then you need to evac the building. You need to get the Secretary and everybody else out of here right now."

"We can't do that," he answered. "He's undergoing surgery as we speak."

You were sure that the next words to leave your mouth would be curses, but before you could even get them out, a band of rushed footsteps became audible from behind you. It didn't take you long to recognize who they belonged to.

The footsteps stopped where you were. You glanced to see the team surrounding you, Derek on your left and Hotch on your right. So he was alright. You held back a sigh of relief and kept your eyes off him, directing all your focus to the task at hand. 

Silently, Morgan handed you a Kevlar vest. You nodded to him in thanks and put it on while Hotch hurriedly interrogated, "The paramedic I came in with—do you have eyes on him?"

The Secret Service Agent briefly glanced at you, to which you nodded, prompting him to turn over a computer playing a live feed. 

"Is that a cell in his hands?"

Rossi pressed onto a mic on his chest. "Garcia, can you remote access the grid I'm in and jam all the frequencies?" She said something you couldn't hear and then he added, tone clipped, "There's a bomb in the basement of this building."

Garcia worked quickly, disrupting the satellite feeds in your location within seconds. You could tell she did this by paramedic's actions on the screen. "Look. He's coming back," Prentiss said. "He's going to detonate the bomb manually if he has to."

"Where did Morgan go?" At Hotch's abrupt words, you turned to your left but Derek was no longer there. He'd snuck off while you were paying attention to the feed, and you had no doubt as to where. 

His appearance on the computer screen confirmed your suspicions. You sighed, before tiredly voicing, "He went to find the ambulance."

Hotch's voice was incredulous. "Alone?"

Rossi didn't share Hotch's surprise. "Let's head down."

You were off before he even finished the sentence, trusting the Secret Service agents to do their jobs well enough while you all did yours. You removed your gun from your holster, holding it up and jogging through the now empty hallways with tunnel vision.

You barely noticed the others behind you until Hotch somehow got ahead of you. "He's going to the basement," he called out.

You think it was Emily that replied. "Stairs."

You pushed the door to the stairwell open and Hotch entered quickly, scanning the area with his gun as he moved. It was eerily silent, the only sound being the alarms in the distance and your footsteps rapidly hitting the stairs as you took them two at a time. 

None of you said a word.

By the time you reached the basement, the alarm was non-existent. Your loud footsteps became quieted, soundless with the precision only people like you could have. You could hear a pin drop. 

At the end of the hallway, you wordlessly split into two groups: you with Hotch and Rossi, and Prentiss with Reid.

Hotch led the way while you and Rossi covered him. Your bomber was sitting criss-crossed against the netted gate, gun tossed on the ground with a cellphone in one hand and a knife in the other. Fuck.

You could only pray that Morgan got out before that signal came back online.

You had your gun in the air, even though you knew what was gonna happen. You all did.

Rossi's voice cut through the air. "FBI."

The bomber didn't flinch, staring at the ground with a lifeless look in his eyes. He was a dead man. 

He raised the knife to his neck—and if you weren't with FBI agents right now, you would've shot his shaking hand and knocked that knife straight to the ground. You would've forced him to take accountability—perhaps not in a courtroom, but in a place that would still enforce a semblance of justice.

But you were with FBI agents. And Hotch reminded you of this as he spoke up, "Put it down. It's over."

Yes, it was. Because the coward slit his throat thereafter, and the knife clattered to the ground.

Slowly, you lowered your guns. You holstered yours, and then you were walking away. You didn't spare the body another glance. It wasn't a life lost.

Either way, he would've died. It just shouldn't have been on his terms.

Emily was behind you. She flipped her phone open and then you heard a sigh of relief. "Garcia just messaged me," she told you. "Morgan's okay."

Spencer and Rossi let out their own sighs while you muttered a small "Thank God" under your breath. You hadn't known Derek Morgan for long, but he was good, and he felt like a friend.

You didn't have many of those.

You got back to the floor you were on in little time, and everyone parted ways, likely going to rest. The night was over—this was over. You, on the other hand, still had some administrative work to do, starting with checking on the Secretary of Defense.

But before you did anything, you stood there. You stood there and watched the team trickle out of the area, everyone but Hotch. He was still down there.

You went to glance back to see if he was coming up but then thought better of it, choosing to walk away instead.

He's fine, you thought. He was fine.

And so were you.

❧

You got off the phone with the DOD, your last in a long line of phone calls, telling them that the threat had been eliminated as far as you were concerned. You would've been out of that hospital ASAP, but they asked you to stay there until the new Secret Service detail arrived, and you couldn't really say no.

The lack of action suddenly made you more aware of your surroundings. Your senses returned to you; the smell of bleach became more pungent, and the fluorescent lights seemed to just bounce off the white tile.

With nothing else to focus on, the pain in your side returned, too, but you were good at handling pain. It hurt to breathe, but the alternative was relapsing, and you'd come too far for that.

Normally, when you were craving drugs or just stressed, you'd find a drink. It wasn't the best coping mechanism, but it worked. Alcohol wasn't strong enough to hook you; it was just enough to sate you, to take your mind off the pills.

However, you were in a hospital, and none of that was around. So you went looking for the next best thing: coffee.

You found a mini coffee bar in a nearby waiting room, right next to a vending machine. It was one of the automatic ones that took capsules. The selection was pretty shitty, but you weren't exactly expecting premium Italian coffee, so you plopped a pod into the machine, anyway.

You waited for your coffee to brew in silence, listening to the sound of the machine whirring. The PA dinged in the background and footsteps were muffled. You had a habit of listening for those, for footsteps. Most times, like now, if you weren't preoccupied, you could detect them right away.

You sensed Hotch when he was 5 feet away. You could recognize his footsteps so easily, but that was the habit.

You told yourself it was the job.

Without turning around, you quietly greeted, "Agent Hotchner."

He returned your greeting, grabbing a styrofoam cup and going to stand next to you. "Y/N." His voice was as saccharine as the sugar you poured into your coffee.

 You hated that, and you hated what it implied.

The case was over. The threat was defeated. And now you were alone together with a conversation unfinished, a conversation you'd much rather not have.

To think that, when you last saw Hotch in Virginia, you were all for the game, the chase. But now it felt like the roles were reversed. This was different. He shouldn't be talking to me.

But he was.

"Yo—"

You cut him off, "How's Kate?" Low blow, Y/N. The breath of air he sucked in made you look up from the creamer to his face. His eyes were no longer on you; they were on the machine as it poured his coffee, but you understood. You could taste apology on your lips before you even said the words. "I'm sorry."

Hotch nodded, grabbing his coffee from the tray when it was finished brewing. "She wasn't in pain," he said. That's all there was to say, really. She wasn't in pain when she died, nor was she in pain when you found her.

Kate Joyner was dead the second that blast hit.

But you spoke none of this. You went to grab your cup, intending to walk away, but Hotch stopped you, placing his hand on your arm before you could fully turn away. You stopped yourself from intaking a sharp breath.

"You're avoiding me."

He said it so plainly, like you were talking about a case or the weather, like this was normal, like the two of you didn't see each other every other year at most, like you weren't you and he wasn't him. It made you want to screw your eyes shut, but you didn't. As if to prove a point, you turned yourself toward him fully, facing him head on.

"I'm not."

"You are."

Your eyes narrowed. "I'm not an unsub, Hotchner. I'm not gonna fold to this interrogation tactic."

"I met you as an unsub," he retorted.

"But I wasn't." You let out a little scoff, half amused, half annoyed. "How would you know if I was avoiding you? You didn't know me then, and you don't know me now."

"But I want to."

Whatever reply you were expecting, it wasn't that. Your breath got caught in your throat. His voice was still so soft, a harsh contrast to the cuts littered across his face. He took a step closer to you. "I want to know you."

You blinked once in shock, almost like you were checking if you were hallucinating, but when your eyes opened, he was still there. When you blinked a second time, it was in realization.

He's just been told Kate's dead, and now whatever pain meds they gave him are kicking in.

Reality slapped you across the face. You took a step back, slowly shaking your head. "You don't want to know me, Hotchner."

He took another step forward. "I do."

Another step back. "You don't." You shook your head again, emphasizing your point. "You really don't."

"Y/N—"

The shrill sound of your ringtone cut him off, and you'd never been so grateful. You picked it up immediately. "Y/L/N." The lady on the other end got to it quick; all you had to do was agree. "Okay, I'll be there momentarily. Thanks."

You hung up your cell, snapping it shut. You gave Hotch a glance before you were looking away, letting your eyes wander everywhere else. "That was the DOD. Secret Service is here. I have to go check out with them." You didn't let him get a word in. "I'll see you around, Agent Hotchner."

And then, just like every other time Aaron Hotchner had ever been in your proximity, you were leaving. In his grasp one second, in the mist in the next.

He watched you walk away wordlessly, not knowing when he'd see you again, words he was going to say dying on his lips.

And then you were gone.

He let out a long sigh, and then looked to his coffee on the mini table, spotting a similar one right next to it. 

You left your coffee there, he realized.

With all the other things you left, too.

5. The gavel and the gun

Southbridge, Virginia, 2008

You didn't find yourself down in Virginia too often, not unless you were on business, but Derek assured you that tonight was about everything but that.

"I'm breaking you out of your shell, angel," he said, making a turn on Curtis Drive. "You need to get out more."

You snorted. "One, I don't have a shell. Two, I am literally out so much that my apartment collects dust, and three," you held up a third finger, despite his close attention to the road, "that's bullshit. You just want me to score you some hot chicks."

He let out a burly laugh, something you'd gotten used to after hanging out with him. "Baby, I don't need you to pick anyone up for me. I can do that all on my own."

"What, are you afraid that I'll steal all your girls, Morgan?"

His reply was swift. "Couldn't do that if you tried, Y/N/N. You're still hung up on Hotch."

Your jaw nearly fell, but you were used to this banter you had. You quipped back, "Please, the only one hung up on anyone here is you. You want Garcia."

He choked on his own spit, making you throw your head back and laugh. He didn't see that one coming.

You caught onto Derek's feelings for Garcia early on, but they became especially prominent when he was buzzed one night and told you she was the one on call with him when he drove that ambulance into the field.

That was six months ago. And now, you were in Derek Morgan's car, trying to coax him into asking out a woman with whom he violated many HR regulations.

Derek clearly didn't have a response which only made you laugh harder. You patted his back while he recovered. "Caaaaareful, muscles. I don't want to die on my way to a bar. I'm literally in the CIA—that would be so heavily anti-climactic."

The only thing he heard in that sentence was his nickname, snapping out of his stupor. "Okay, this 'muscles' thing is starting to feel less like a compliment and more condescending." 

You huffed out a little chuckle as he put the car in park. "And 'angel' isn't?"

He furrowed his brows, opening his door. "You love that name."

You copied his movements, getting out of the car before pointedly looking at him. "Yeah, when the words 'of death' follow it."

He snorted. "Cryptic." He held his arm out for you, to which you obliged, wrapping yours in his before walking into the estabishment with him.

You would've responded and teased him further had you not been cut off by an oddly familiar voice. "Morgan!" Your head snapped to a table where not only the object of your teasing stood, but all of their crime-fighting friends. From afar, you watched Penelope's eyes widen behind her glasses. Then she squealed, "And Y/N!" 

To her credit, she did look just the slightest bit embarrassed when people turned to stare at her.

She still wasn't used to you. And God, was that comical.

A smirk crawled onto your face as you walked to their table, glancing at Derek and recalling your earlier quip. "Ooh, careful, Morgan. Your girl's a fan. I might just take her."

For a guy that nearly died in the car at the mention of her, he didn't seem all that startled. In fact, a smirk of his own graced his face. "I doubt you'll be focused on Penelope tonight, angel."

Your brows pinched together, but before you could question what he meant, you reached the table. JJ and Emily greeted you with wide smiles, the latter pulling you in for a hug that was surprising but not unwelcome. Garcia followed right behind her, hesitantly wrapping her arms around you. You cleared this hesitancy by embracing her tightly. Goodness, she's precious.

Over her shoulder, you mouthed to Morgan, Don't fuck it up.

When you let her go, Rossi tipped his glass at you while Reid just gave you an awkward wave. For his benefit, you resisted the urge to laugh.

You spun back around to flash a smug smile at Morgan, eager for him to see that you weren't fazed by this little surprise he so clearly wanted to jar you with, but then your eyes locked with a darker pair and you realized, oh. They weren't the surprise.

He was.

"Y/N."

What was this feeling? Winded? Was it— breathless? You couldn't describe it; you'd only felt it a few times in life, and you didn't know why you felt it right now. Eventually, you realized you had to answer. 

"Hotchner."

You were going to fucking strangle Derek Morgan.

❧

If it wasn't considered rude and you weren't surrounded by a horde of profilers, you would've been texting Derek furiously. It didn't help that the only spot left at the table was next to the man you'd be texting about.

Derek was fun to party with—you went out with him all the time—but whenever he invited you out with the rest of the BAU, you politely declined and came up with whatever excuse was available. Clearly, he caught on to the reason.

You've been avoiding me.

And maybe that was true.

A gasp broke you out of your thoughts. You looked over to see Penelope jumping out of her seat. "Oh, my god, I love this song. Derek, get up right now, we're going to dance," she all but demanded.

It's then that you noticed that JJ and Emily had already beat them to the dance floor, and Spencer was being talked up by some girl at the bar. 

No— "Alright, alright, calm down, mama, I'm coming." You glared daggers at him as he flashed you a sly grin, then he wrapped an arm around Penelope and left. He left you alone with Hotch and Rossi.

At least Rossi's still here— "You know, I think I'm going to get another drink." You're kidding.

Apparently, he was not kidding. Rossi got up, and you could've sworn you saw him wink at Hotch before he left for the bar.

And then there were two.

Fuck.

Now that the others were all gone, you felt his proximity much more prominently. If you moved just the slightest bit, your knees would touch. You hated that the thought even crossed your mind.

But you couldn't leave. If you left, then it'd be obvious that you were, in fact, avoiding him, and you didn't want it to be obvious. It shouldn't have been obvious because there was nothing there to avoid; the two of you were nothing, so you had no reason to avoid him.

You were nothing.

Even if, for a second, you might've felt something.

"What's wrong?" His voice cut into the tension like it was butter. But the question didn't sound like concern; if you didn't know any better, you'd say it was almost teasing. 

You finally looked at him, turning your head and realizing he was closer than you thought. Close enough to see the specks of green in his eyes and the locks of hair falling over his face. Close enough that you could push those locks back if you wanted to. And you wanted to. 

But you didn't.

You schooled your expression and raised a brow, causing him to elaborate, "You were much more flirtatious when we didn't know each other."

Of course, I was, is what you wanted to say. Of course, you were; that was before whatever happened in D.C., before you danced with him and before you let him down. Before reality came knocking and showed him that you were polar opposites, that he was a man of the gavel and you were a woman of the gun. Before he confronted you. Before he told you that he wanted to know you.

So, of course. Of course, I was. Because what the hell was I supposed to do with that?

That's what you wanted to say, but you didn't. Instead, you countered, "Why do you assume something's wrong? Maybe I've just lost interest in our game."

Hotch looked at you like he knew that was a load of bull. He looked you up and down like he could see right through you, and you hated that, because if he looked hard enough, he just might. You thought, for a second, he'd drop it, but then he came back harder. "Is that because you're not winning?"

Taken aback, you laughed to hide how astounded you were, looking away as you deflected, "You must've been one hell of a lawyer, Agent Hotchner." 

He let you re-route the conversation, humming. "I was good at my field," he admitted, pausing briefly. "I actually got my nickname while I was working at the DA's office, Hotch."

"Oh?" you uttered, disinterest shining through your voice that you hoped he'd pick up on.

"Yeah. And now it's what everybody calls me." Another pause. "Everybody but you."

You turned back to him. Clearly, that's what he wanted from you with that statement. He was looking at you expectantly, waiting on you for something—you just didn't know what. "You dwell on what I call you?"

He shrugged like he was unbothered. "It's just an observation. You refer to everyone using their first name, even Kate. At one point, I think you even said our names consecutively. Agent Hotchner and then Kate."

Shit, you didn't remember that, but he was probably right. It must've been a blip, you must not have been paying attention. Still, you shrugged right back at him. "I don't put that much thought into it."

He continued like you'd never said anything. "You said my name after the blast." You stiffened. "Repeatedly. And then, once we were in the hospital, you were back to formality."

You forced a smile onto your face in attempts to mask the discomfort. "So?" you said. Like you weren't affected. Like you weren't surprised that he noticed or equally surprised that he was calling you out on it.

"So," he repeated. "What's holding you back from saying my name?"

Damnit, he had you. He had you, and he knew it. You knew he knew it based on the fire in his eyes, fire with intent to burn.

But you had more. 

You had walked through fire; you were forged in fire, so this was a challenge you'd accept.

You leaned in closer, just until your mouth was next to his ear. He inhaled sharply. Good. Slowly, you breathed, "What's in a name... Hotchner?"

When you leaned back, you were met with a thrown-off-Hotch, but you didn't stick around to savour the image. You hopped off your barstool and left the table, opting to go dance with Emily and JJ as opposed to let him have the last word.

If you had it your way, he wouldn't get another word in for the rest of the night.

If only you could always have it your way.

❧

You danced with the girls the rest of the night, Hotch forgotten. The others were elsewhere, off on their own. They were good company, and it was nice to hang out with other women. Eventually, the dancing wore them out and they decided it was time to head out, making sure to exchange numbers with you and add you to their group chat before they bid you farewell.

Something told you they were a little more than friends, but you weren't sure if they even knew that.

Alone, you decided to get off the dance floor, making your way over to the bar to text Derek. It was getting late; the bar would close soon, and you wanted to head home. But when you opened your phone, you already had a message from him—timestamped an hour ago. Furrowing your brows, you clicked on it.

Sorry, angel, but Pen opened a window for me and I had to take it.

If you know what I mean ;)

Please don't kill me. I'll send a car for you when you're ready.

Audibly, you groaned, closing your eyes in exhaustion. Of course, he shot his shot with Garcia on the night he's meant to drive you home. And you couldn't even be that mad about it. 

You sighed, accepting it and going to open your Uber app when a voice queried from behind you, "Are you alright?"

Fuckkkkkk, you were really hoping he left by now. Reluctantly, you turned around, facing Hotch. "Yeah, Derek was my ride home, but he um," you paused, wiping a hand across your face, "he got lucky."

"With Garcia?"

You laughed at how transparent it was and how quick he, their boss, was to get it. "Yeah, so I'm just gonna catch an Uber home."

"Don't be ridiculous; I'll drive you home." You were shocked at how quickly he shot you down, looking up at him to see he was being totally serious.

"No, you are being ridiculous. I live all the way in Washington."

He shrugged his shoulders like it was nothing, like you were friends and his offer was normal. "I live in Arlington—it's not out of the way. Besides, would you rather pay for an hour-long car ride or have me drive you for free?" 

Honestly, you'd rather do many things besides let Hotch drive you home for an hour, so you excused, "I'm good for the money."

He rolled his eyes. "It's 1AM, Y/N; I'm not gonna let you take an Uber home." He nodded to the exit. "Come on, let's go."

Now you rolled your eyes. He'd made up his mind, despite your disapproval. Yet you still glanced down at your phone, debating it. You supposed that he was better than a total stranger, and it was only an hour.

Maybe you were tired and your judgement was impaired, but for some reason, you obliged. "Fine."

You didn't know if it was a trick of light, but for a second there, it looked like Hotch's lips quirked upward.

For a second.

❧

The car ride was silent if not for the music drumming lowly in the background. You didn't crack any jokes or say anything playful or innapropriate; you were a silence filler, you hated silence, but you'd rather sit in silence than talk to Aaron Hotchner any longer than you had to.

His presence was already pushing it.

If Hotch noticed how quiet you were, which he likely did, then he didn't comment on it. You were sure that he was profiling you silently, though, the same way you were silently profiling him.

He wasn't driving his official government vehicle, but it was still a black SUV. Not a Tahoe, though; it was an Escalade. It wasn't too proud or boastful but it wasn't too unassuming, either. Expensive but not too much of a head-turner.

A glance to the back displayed a car seat. You suspected that his son was with his ex-wife, since he was here at one in the morning and not at home. He was a stable father, and you could tell.

You knew what instability looked like.

The CD he had in when you got into the car was the White Album, Beatles. That, you could've guessed easily. It fit.

The car was clean. It smelled like peppermint and his cologne. If you opened the glove box, you'd probably find a gun. He carried two on his person while working, so he probably had one in here and then another at his place.

Prepared.

But what neither of you were prepared for was the sudden downpour of rain.

Hotch turned on his windshield wipers, then you saw a flash of white followed by a loud clap of thunder. He cursed under his breath, and you then cursed yourself for finding it attractive. "It's a storm."

"I can see that."

He ignored your quip. "Well, we're already in Arlington. My apartment is two minutes away—we could stop there until it's clear."

You held back a sigh. Regardless of your feelings, it was unsafe to drive in this weather. That's why you agreed. "Okay."

He wasn't lying about being two minutes away. With in no time, you were in front of his complex. Running inside barely did anything; you were drenched after being outside for maybe ten seconds.

The thunder was loud and continuous; the only place you didn't hear it was in the elevator. Then it returned once you were out, walking through the halls to his apartment.

You were on your phone while he unlocked the door, checking the weather app. This time you couldn't repress the sigh that left you. "Forecast says this storm's going all night."

"Oh." He opened the door, holding it open for you. "Well, you can stay the night." What? "I'll drive you home first thing in the morning."

"Um—"

He gestured to his living room, suggesting, "I'll take the couch. You can have the bed." Well, it wasn't really a suggestion, and you didn't have much of a choice, either.

So you nodded. He said something about going to change and fetch you clothes, and then you were alone in Aaron Hotchner's foyer.

You. In his apartment.

You thought back to when you met him, in an interrogation room as he accused you of being a serial killer. And you were a killer, just not that kind. Yet, now, he willingly had you, a gun for the government, in his apartment. This was the same Aaron Hotchner who prosecuted criminals, who hunted down evil, and believed in justice and court of law. The same Aaron Hotchner who frowned upon your unseriousness and grey morals. And he was also the same Aaron Hotchner that stood next to you in a hospital waiting room and told you he wanted to know you.

God, it was ironic. Him wanting to know you. You didn't know if he understood what that meant, what that entailed. 

He was the gavel, and you were the gun.

And that was that.

He walked back into the room after a good three minutes, changed into attire more informal than you'd ever seen him. He wore a button-down and jeans to the bar, but you didn't imagine you'd ever see him in sweats.

"Bathroom's on the left," he told you, pointing to it. "Feel free to use the shower. I left some clothes on the bed for you, and if you need anything, I'll be out here."

You nodded, saying a quiet "thanks" before you walked past him to his room. You'd skip the shower; you didn't have any underwear for that.

Closing the door, you took a moment to scan his room. Bed in the middle, navy blue sheets. Window facing the door, dark red curtains covering them. There was a closet to the side, likely filled with suits, then a dresser across from the bed for ties and everything else.

There were two nightstands on either side of the bed, a frame on one. When you got closer, you saw it was a picture of a little boy with a grin so wide that it brought a smile to your face. 

On the bed, Hotch left you a pair of grey jogging pants and a worn blue hoodie with George Washington University painted on in chipped white in the middle. You changed out of your wet dress, and all hesitation for wearing Hotch's clothes went out the door the second you put on his hoodie.

The sweatpants were just as comfortable, despite having to pull the drawstrings immensely far. You could fall asleep like this no problem, but then just as you went for the bed, the light cut out, drowning you in darkness.

You're kidding me.

There was a knock on the bedroom door soon after. You weren't sure if you could find it without stumbling or knocking something over, so you just shouted, "Come in."

Hotch's head poked in, illuminating the room with the flashlight on his phone. "It's the whole neighbourhood. Do you want a candle?"

Yes, I do. You had a thing about sleeping in the dark, but like hell if you were gonna tell him that. A CIA agent, afraid of the dark—you weren't telling anybody that. "No, I'm good, but um," why am I stammering? "Could I get some water, please?"

"Yes, of course." Hotch was quick to leave the room for what you requested, and you were quick to follow him. He was the one with the flashlight.

His kitchen was barely visible, but you caught a glimpse of a few drawings on the fridge. When he lit a candle and placed it on the counter, you saw the the drawings were finger paintings, one of a whole child's hand. Again, you couldn't stop the corners of your lips from curving upwards.

Aaron Hotchner. You'd seen the prosecutor, the profiler, the unit chief, and now the father.

"Here." Hotch's voice cut through your thoughts as he handed you a glass of water. You didn't even hear when he turned the tap on.

You wordlessly took the water, thanking him with a nod. He stood there as you took a sip, watching you with a gaze that felt scrutinizing but probably wasn't. He was good at hiding what he was thinking, but you could still tell that he was thinking, nonetheless.

In a split-second decision, you lost the battle with yourself not to engage in conversation. "What? Did you poison this?"

He ignored you, like always, and questioned, "Are you afraid of the dark?"

You just barely stopped yourself from choking, masking your cough with a chuckle. "What?" How the fuck did he guess that?

Vaguely, he added, "You seem like the type."

"Oh, 'I seem like the type?'" you echoed. "Is that your normal-person way of saying 'it fits with my profile?'"

He shrugged. "More or less."

Another chuckle left you, this time unforced. You were wondering if he was drinking before you and Derek showed up. This confidence and nonchalance was new, but amusing. Maybe you had one too many drinks, too, or maybe something about this version of Aaron was drawing you in, but you indulged him. "Okay, Hotchner. Give me my profile."

He paused, looking at you like he was debating if you really meant it but you saw the moment he made up his mind, decision flashing through his eyes. He gave you a once-over, but not because he needed to; you had a feeling this profile had been brewing for a while now.

"You're a control freak," he started. "This doesn't just shine through in your work—it also appears in your day-to-day life, like your overwhelming need to fill silence or dislike for the dark. This comes from a period of your life when you weren't in control, and now you have to control every situation you encounter. You come off as easygoing, but in reality, you're closed off. You hide behind jokes and arrogance because you don't want people to know the real you, but every once in a while, she reveals herself. She cares, but you can't have that be used against you, so you pretend you don't. You don't have many friends because that opens doors, and you are afraid of what is behind them. That is why, even as you stand in my kitchen, wearing my clothes, you still refuse to say my name. It's a defense mechanism, a way for you to create distance because, as much as you deny it, you feel something."

Somewhere in his explanation, he got closer to you. He never broke eye contact, not once. He stared at you like you were a puzzle he was waiting to solve, and he had too many pieces. You suddenly wished you'd never asked.

You intook a deep breath. "Ho—"

He cut you off, voice now just above a whisper. "What are you hiding from, Y/N?"

What am I hiding from?

Your eyes involuntarily darted down to his lips, and he caught it. He took another step closer, and you let him. What am I hiding from?

Your breath was shaky as Hotch leaned down, resting his forehead against yours. One movement and your lips would touch. You wondered what it'd feel like. To kiss him. To stop hiding. 

What are you hiding from, Y/N?

You leaned in, and then just before your lips met his, the lights turned back on.

Just like that, you pulled away, the sound of your racing heart concealed by the sound of the heater kicking back on. "I should— I should get back to bed now." You kept your eyes on the tile.

"Y/N—"

"Um, thank you for the water—"

"Y/N."

Finally, you looked up at him, concern and confusion swimming in his eyes, and you understood it. One second, you were on the verge of kissing, and now you were on the verge of tears. You didn't understand it, either.

But this, whatever it was, it couldn't happen. This was a lapse of your judgement. He was Aaron Hotchner, the prosecutor, the profiler, the unit chief, and the father: the gavel. You were Y/N Y/L/N, the hacker, the director, the addict, and the killer: the gun. 

This wasn't gonna happen.

So you loaded a round into the chamber, put your finger on the trigger, and took the safety off. Then you aimed it at yourself and fired, "You're a good man, Aaron." Too good for me.

You think he was too shocked by his own name, and that's why he let you walk away.

And as you closed his bedroom door, you had a feeling that it wasn't the only door you just closed.

6. A lie is the truth (link)

taglist: @flow33didontsmoke

extra a/n: guys i'm so mad ab this block limit and how this can't be one part but wtv!!

[narujenreacts]

Will Murder Drones get a Season 2?

Alrighty. So, after GLITCH's post yesterday of Digital Circus that also mentioned "We're also working hard on Murder Drones & will be releasing final episodes soon!", which sent a lot of the fandom (including yours truly) into a panic that this meant these are the final episodes for the SERIES and not the 1st season. However, that felt off to me since GLITCH has been promoting MD as Season 1 and not a short series, which, if it had always intended to be only 8 episodes, it would've been. That's just how it goes in the industry for online series. And I believe GLITCH wouldn't make that kind of mistake in marketing. It'd be different too if it was only promoted as Season 1 for the teaser, but it's been that way up until that Digital Circus post. Hell, here are some of the things Kevin and Liam said during GlitchX:

"I remember when we were coming up with the, uh, this is like way before when, you know, Murder Drones was really, like we were really going for a smaller, smaller show-" - Kevin

"The whole oil thing that was getting set up in the pilot, that was gonna be like a MASSIVE sort of plot thread throughout the season." - Kevin

"Because in terms of importance to kind of where I want the story to go, it just ended up being less relevant." - Liam

"We, um, did the opposite of that. I think the series as it progressed, which I think is - it is intentional, I would say. We have gone from, I think, supremely silly to supremely kind of self-serious." - Liam

"There's so many dog easter eggs if you go and watch through the entire season." - Kevin

"We are announcing the finale of the season." - Kevin

With everything they said, none of it sounds like Murder Drones was intended to be a single season series. Now, this leaves two questions myself and I'm sure some of you have, "Why haven't they announced a S2 yet then and why are they barely posting MD?" I decided to enter analyzation mode and went digging through GLITCH's Twitter and YouTube. What I found was that this isn't GLITCH's first time handling their series like this.

Meta Runner Season 1 (Animated Movie Cut) was released on Aug 28, 2020 and in the description Season 2 was immediately announced since they already had it done.

Meta Runner Season 2 - EP 1: Hard Reset released Oct 16, 2020. The final episode for S2, "EP 10: Fatal Error" was released Dec 18, 2020 and there was no mention of the 3rd and final season.

Want to know when they announced it? Not until Nov 29, 2021. Over a YEAR later.

And before that they barely posted anything of MR. At first it was Sunset Paradise, and then once that series was about to conclude they started posting about MD. A lot. Way more than they have for DC. And when they announced S3 for MR they didn't even mention it was the series finale! That wasn't announced until May 6, 2022, 6 months after S3 was even announced.

However, once they did they made it VERY clear it was the final season. 99% of their posts of MR after that mentioned it was the final season.

So, to conclude my thoughts. I don't think we should be worried. I wouldn't suggest getting our hopes up TOO high, because despite GLITCH handling MD the same way they did MR, there's always the chance MD doesn't get a second season. That way we're not deeply disappointed if it doesn't, but after looking into it I personally feel a lot more confident MD will get a S2. Just be prepared that if GLITCH doesn't say anything, it could be up to a year before they do, but if MR fans could hold out for as long as they did, we can too. Don't forget either GLITCH isn't only working on the first season of DC. They're also working on the pilot for Gaslight District.

[lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom]

I’d love to request a fic with a female reader and a angsty/comfort storyline with the Bad Batch.

For a broad storyline I was thinking something by along the lines of a female reader joining the Bad Batch (per Hunter’s idea) and Crosshair and/or Echo not being very happy about it. However they eventually they come around to having another girl in the group.❤️

Winning Approval

Clone Force 99 x Platonic!Reader

Summary- You felt as if you were living a purpose-less life, so when Hunter asks you to join his crew, you say yes! Not everyone on the force is as happy though... Takes place during and after Season 1, Ep. 2.

A/N- Thank you so much for requesting! I appreciate it so much, but I think I'm done writing platonic xD. This was sooo hard for me to write. I love the challenge, but i'm not sure how great my platonic writing skills are!

Word Count- 1,454

Growing up, helping people seemed natural. You remember discovering this when your old friend Kaiya fell and scratched her knee. It was second nature to dress her wound and comfort her. You were nine at the time.

Your mother enrolled you in medical classes as much as she could, you learned how to set bones, stitch holes, and treat infections. Amongst many other skills.

The city you lived in was soon taken over by the empire, but you found a way out before it was too late. That's where you found yourself- living with Suu and her husband Cut. The two had taken you in when they found out your home had been destroyed.

It didn't hurt when you found out you and Suu's parents knew each other in their youth.

When you had stumbled onto Hunter- he and his crew had set off a trap you had set in the fields. Your gun raised at him was lowered by Cut, claiming he knew them.

Things blurred together since then, everything moved so fast. Having to relocate away from the empire again was not something you fashioned. You were tired of running, and expressed your concerns.

Hunter initially suggested dropping you off at the planet of your choice, (a repayment for taking care of one of Omegas wounds).

Crash landing on a moon wasn't on anyone's roster, but it happened nonetheless. It did, however, give yourself an opportunity to prove yourself to them.

You helped Tech repair a part of the hyper-drive, earning his favor.

You shared your rations with Wrecker, earning his approval.

You played and entertained with Omega, earning her and Hunters trust.

Last was Echo. You wanted him to like you, as you enjoyed everyone's company. They were so kind to you, and didn't pay any mind to flaws. They knew themselves that they were defective- what was one more defect?

Maybe you were in over your head, would they really accept you as a member of their squad? They just met you a week ago. For all they knew you were an Empire spy... You couldn't deny that you wanted to stay though. You felt like you belonged- finally.

When Echo still avoided you like the plague and the ship was ready to fly again, you felt like you had run out of time. You sulked around the ship for awhile, waiting for Hunter to ask where you wanted to be dropped off.

That was until you noticed- he hadn't asked you. It had been hours and he had said nothing about you leaving.

This made you crack, anxiety like ice through your veins.

"Hunter, I mean this in the least selfish way possible. But, why haven't you asked where I wanted to go yet? What planet?" You thought you messed up when his face fell. He looked dissapointed?

"Well, we were hoping you would want to stay. We were going to formally ask, but Wrecker and Omega are still making the poster." He rubbed the pack of his neck and chuckled a little bit. "Would you like to join us? If not, that's completely understandable. Just name the planet and we will be headed there." He stated, making sure you knew you had options.

"R-really? You guys want me to join you?" You wanted to smack your head at how cliche you sounded. Though, you didn't have time to think on it, as Hunter started talking again.

"We don't have an official medic. While Tech possesses all the knowledge needed, he doesn't have a, uh how do I put it? A steady hand when it comes to medical means." He reasoned.

"You are more than capable as we've seen, and between Wrecker and Omega we need a medic- bad." You smiled at this. You felt a purpose. Someone needed you! You would be able to help your squad and civilians you came across on any journey.

Before you could respond, Omega and Wrecker barreled through the mid-section of the ship. Omega held a small banner in her hand, and Wrecker a large sheet of paper. It was full of colorful pictures, drawn by the two.

Your heart warmed at the effort they put in, all to make you feel welcomed.

"How could I say no? You guys have been so perfect to me, and I want to help you guys as much as I can." You smiled up at Hunter, he patted you on the shoulder. His way of officially letting you on the squad.

After that day, things started to move more smoothly. Yeah, you had some bad run-ins, almost got captured a few times, and had many near-death experiences. But, you were with your family through it all. The only problem was Echo.

Maybe 'problem' wasn't too nice of a word. Echo never did anything wrong. He just, never seemed to like your company. You guessed he didn't have to like you, not everyone would. Because of this, you pushed back your guilty feelings surrounding him. That was until you over-heard a conversation between him and Hunter.

"Something feels off about her." Echo told Hunter. You couldn't see either of them, and didn't want to expose your position by moving.

"Yeah, and what's that?"

"I can't place it. I don't understand how everyone can just accept her, no questions asked." Echo sounded confused.

"She's shown us many times that she can handle herself. Plus, Omega needs another female on the ship.'' Hunter defended you, but still wanted to hear Echos concerns.

"She's not a clone. She doesn't think like us!" Ah, so that's why he's been so put-off by you. It was because you weren't a clone. You assumed he was so used to clones, that of course you were an odd piece in their clone family.

You slowly moved back to your sleeping cot. You sunk down slowly. It wasn't your fault, really. You can't control where or how you were born. Thoughts surrounded you. Was it that obvious? Were you that different from them?

As much as you wanted to pack your bags and not burden anyone else, you decided to talk to Echo first.

After landing on a planet to resupply, you asked to speak to Echo alone.

"Uh, sure." He replied, skeptical. You both exited the ship, though keeping close.

"Echo, I didn't really know how to bring this up. I figured I should just get straight to the point?" You asked, not wanting to waste his time.

He nodded, looking straight to you.

"I overheard you and Hunter talking last rotation..." You nervously picked at a nail. He still stared, not wavering.

"I can't help that i'm not a clone. I'm not sorry either, but I do want to know what I can do. To gain your trust." You dropped your hand, eager for his response.

He licked his lips, thinking. "I'm sorry you heard that..."

"Echo, I don't care. I just- I want to be a part of this family..." You mustered out. Now or never!

This surprised him, "What are you talking about. You already are!"

He seemed, mad? Was he really that disgusted by 'normal' humans?

"I can't help that i'm not a clone!" You regrettably yelled, throwing you arms up.

"That doesn't matter, everyone accepts you anyways!" His words were strained, like he didn't want anyone to know.

"Why don't you?" You whispered.

He sighed and took a step back. "When I first joined force 99, it wasn't as easy."

You couldn't imagine what he was referring to. You knew he was a regular clone before joining Hunter, but what did that have to do with anything?

After seeing your confused look, he continued. "I wasn't born a defective clone, I became one. It took a lot of time to understand how to use this. But you fit in so easily." He gestured to his mechanical arm.

"I had no idea you felt that way... I wasn't trying to mean anything-" He cut you off.

"I know, and really, we do need a medic. I was just being resentful, I'm sorry."

"I'm not trying to take anyone's place. The team wouldn't be the same without you. Besides, Omega adores you, and I think Hunter will do whatever it takes to keep her happy." You laughed, he luckily gave out a chuckle as well.

"Thanks. I think It'll just take some time to get used to the difference." He said, honestly.

"I get that, just let me know if there's anything I can do... Ya know, to speed things up?" You smiled up at him. It was then that you knew everything would be fine. That you really had found your family, and nothing could take you from them.

A/N- Thank you so much for reading! I am sorry if this isn't what you had in mind! Feel free to send in another request if you would like a more specific plot! Again, sorry that my platonic writing skills aren't that sharp! Tags- (lmk if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @knight-of-flowerss

[buckyplsmarryme]

Home

Din Djarin x female reader

One shot takes place during season 2 ep.6

Right after the razor crest is destroyed, Din thinks he loses you during the chaos.

Warnings: some angst, but leads to happy ending. Din being a little dramatic but we love him, he talks of running into fire. Fear of loss/ panic

Helmet comes offfff<3

When Moff Gideon’s cruiser fired at his ship he felt a pang in his heart that he was not expecting, after all he had grown accustomed to temporary things. He knew too well that nothing lasted forever.

The crest was different. Din had brought Grogu onto his ship, he had brought you onto his ship. Memories of the past year with his adopted son came flooding in. Grogu’s beloved toys, pictures he had drawn, his blankets. Everything gone in an instant.

You lit up the small ship with your laughter, your passion, and your love you gave out to him and Grogu freely. Qualities that he was not used to, but quickly became what made him fall deeply in love with you.

As soon as the two of you came into his life the razor crest exuded warmth and home. Feelings that he had not felt since his childhood.

When he first came to owning his ship, he cursed under his breath upon seeing it, it was a piece of work that needed constant maintenance and skill to fix.

When he took in Grogu, his time and patience was wearing thin. He could no longer put all of his focus into what needed to be done to keep the ship from breaking down. And as masterful he was in almost all areas, he was no mechanic.

This is what led him to you.

Seeing unfamiliar flashing lights come on all across his ship, he had no choice but go to Tatoonine and seek Peli and her overpriced repair shop.

He was greeted however not by Peli, but by the most angelic creature he had ever seen. You had begun working at Peli’s shop since the last time he had been and he was instantly drawn to you.

After your first meeting, Din started to go to Peli’s for just about any and every problem he encountered with the Crest. Where he once was too stubborn to go, determined he could fix anything himself he now leapt at any chance to go to the shop, just in hopes of talking to you.

He could not stay away, and you yearned for him when he was gone. From the start you felt instantly connected to him and his little green son.

You quickly grew to love him. Peli made fun of the way you would longingly stare at him when he departed, and anxiously awaited his next visit.

You loved how he loved Grogu. You were in awe of how someone who seemed so intimidating, was the most gentle and caring man you’d ever come to know.

He told you things he could never imagine telling anyone else. He opened up to you completely. He told you about his parents, and how he came to be a mandalorian. He took careful time in explaining his creed, and although you longed to see his face, you understood and respected him completely. You loved him regardless even if you never see under his helmet.

You told him your past, all about your family, and how you wished to leave your planet because there was holding you to it any longer.

Within months, Din asked you to join him. He stated he had buisness to reunite Grogu with his kind and get him away from those who threatened him. He stated that he would miss you terribly when he went away and offered you a position to help him with his ship and Grogu.

Of course you jumped to go with him and the months you spent with him on his ship have been the happiest of your life.

You truly had a family and a sense of belonging with him and Grogu. He had changed your life completely.

You awoke a feeling in Din that he could not describe. All he knows is that you fixed him in all ways possible. You made him a better person, a better father to Grogu. You made his life more meaningful, you gave him the strength he needed to make it back after every bounty just so he could see your face and know you are safe.

You.

Where were you?

As he watched his ship burn, he looked around, he had not seen you in an hour or so before the attack.

He had been out with Grogu in search of contacting the Jedi as he had been instructed to do.

Had you gotten back on the ship?

“Meshla please listen to me” he had pleaded just hours before with you.

“If Gideon finds us, promise me you will get yourself to safety” he held her face as she said “I will Din, I promise”

Had he sent her to her death? Din became frantic. He started sprinting towards their burning home to see if what he feared more than anything had occurred.

“No please no” Din kept muttering as he was searching and praying.

He began hyperventilating, of course you would go back to the ship if you saw the danger above. That is exactly what you had promised him many times you would do in this situation.

When he realized there was no way of entering the ship without being consumed by the fire himself he fell to his knees.

He could feel the aggressive heat of the flames roaring onto his skin where his beskar did not cover. However he did not care, and if it were not for abandoning his son he would run into the flames himself.

A life without you had no meaning. How did he go so long without you? He had never felt this agony before, not even when he lost his parents so long ago.

What would he do? All his hopeless and devastating thoughts were burning in his head as he cried until suddenly he heard a voice.

“Din” your soft voice broke him out of his despair.

He felt arms wrap aound his body as you squeezed him into you.

He cannot stop crying, and you try your best to comfort him. He pins you down and cries on you for what feels like hours.

“Cyare I thought you were gone” he cried into your neck.

“Im sorry Din, I didn’t mean to scare you” you whispered softly.

“I was up the hill looking for you and Grogu when I heard the explosion, I’m so sorry it took me so long to get back to you” you explained.

You had never seen or heard him sound so broken before. And in your state of worry you hardly processed him pulling away from you and throwing his helmet to the ground.

You gasped as you saw beautiful curls and deep brown eyes before his lips were on yours.

Din had no ship to call home, and now no creed to cling on to but he no longer cared.

He had you. And he wanted none of himself hidden any longer. Nothing else will ever matter to him more.

He knows that him and his precious family will always be okay as long as they have each other.

“I love you so much meshla” he tells you as he pulls away.

“I love you Din, always”

-this is my first time writing on tumblr, thank you for reading:))

Translations:

Cyare: beloved, loved, popular

Meshla: beautiful

[rey-jake-therapist]

I noticed a lot of discussion around the ending (will Galadriel leave with Sauron?) but not about the “last temptation” itself, and I’m so curious and excited by this scene? Sauron will play some mind palace shenanigans on Galadriel to persuade her into being his queen. What will he play at this time?

I think the Halbrand vision of Ep.4 was a preview for this scene, and Sauron will come back to his human form for her. He’s also wearing his numenorean armour, and they already teased the “I felt it too” scene with Galadriel in Ep.2. Will Sauron have them return to this memory, and show her what could have happen if they hadn’t been interrupted? Can this be the shocking kiss scene?

One of your anons talked about some cool points. Tempting Galadriel with power didn’t work on S1 finale, and he might take the love and family angle this time. I would love to see that! How would it play out: them ruiling together and there’s a child (or children)?

Sauron will bring out the big guns this time, no doubt. Recently I reblogged a great analysis of the track "Last Temptation"... It shouldn't be hard to find.

We know he'll taunt her with her memories of Halbrand, or why would he change from Annatar to Halbrand? I *hope* he will remind her of their moment on the log, even make her relive it, tease her with what could have happened if they hadn't been interrupted... But then, it's what *I* would write if I was in the writers' room. I'm still skeptical about the idea that they will dare to make their connection explicitely romantic. I'd never be so happy to be wrong though !

Anyway, recently an anon suggested that maybe Sauron would disguise as Celeborn, like he did with Finrod, to trick her into giving in. But honestly, I don't think he would even consider it. Not because "he would never do that to her" lmao But he wouldn't do it because it wouldn't serve his purpose in the long term.

When he pretended to be Finrod, it was because he knew that Galadriel loved and missed her brother very much ; Sauron's smart, so he assumed that if he pretended to be Finrod and that Finrod told her only good things about Sauron, she would respect his opinion and change her mind. His purpose was not to become her brother lmao It could have worked, if he hadn't played the "creepy brother" card at the very end...

But what would he gain in pretending to be Celeborn in a vision? She would follow him believing he's Celeborn maybe, but then what? As soon as the vision stops, she'll see he's not Celeborn but Sauron, she'll realize he tricked her again and it will have been all for nothing. Not to mention that Sauron will probably not try the same trick that he used the last time : she may expect this and it will backfire on him. And even us, the audience, expect him to try a different method this time because we don't wan't to see the same game with different players... No, really, I don't think the writers had him impersonate Celeborn.

[mythserene]

DRUGS COST MONEY (MARK LEWISOHN, DRUG BUDDY)

I'm late, but I'm here, and this is something I've thought about since I read Tune In the first time.

First of all, Lewisohn's definition and description of what Preludin was is wildly underplayed and misleading, so I have to just get out a few quick Preludin facts. They're helpful.

Lewisohn:

Preludin was an appetite suppressant, an anorectic drug introduced into West German society in 1954, when commercial pressures were making women become more image-conscious. Users maintained an appetite but quickly felt full when eating, and the reduced intake brought about weight loss. Preludin’s primary ingredient, phenmetrazine, was not an amphetamine but an upper, giving the user a euphoric buzz. It was soon sold internationally and used recreationally, and though available in Germany only with a doctor’s prescription...

- “Tune In” - Chapter 19; Piedels on Prellies

(Oh, those women and their obsession with weight.)

I know Lewisohn's not a chemist and I don't expect him to have done extensive study before writing “not an amphetamine but an upper”—which, first of all is just a weird, grade school sounding statement about any stimulant in general that no scientist would ever say or write—but also he makes it sound like it's a fizzy little pill that gives you the sillies.

But definitely not an amphetamine or anything bad like that.

Look, even Wikipedia says right at the top, “[i]ts structure incorporates the backbone of amphetamine,” and although I didn't spend more than a few seconds there, I saw it because it came up first in the search like Wikipedia always does. Just saying it's basically impossible to miss.

And whether he was trying to hide the ball or not, since he wrote so much about them I am going to quickly set the "not amphetamine" record straight before I go on.

“Methamphetamine hydrochloride (Desoxyn) and phenmetrazine hydrochloride (Preludin) are two variants of the amphetamine structure.”

- “Amphetamine Abuse”, Sidney Cohen, MD, JAMA

“The experience in Sweden seems to indicate that phenmetrazine (e.g. Preludin) has the highest potency, and the greatest risk of psycho-toxic, acute and chronic effects (Rylander 1966). Amphetamines and methylphenidate seem to show less dependence-producing and psycho-toxic effects than phenmetrazine.”

- (United Nations Bulletin; Vol XX, No. 2)

Basically, Preludin was synthesized by taking an amphetamine skeleton and boosting tf out of it by adding a very common sort of chemical scaffolding to it called a morpholine ring, allowing them to tweak it by sticking on a nitrogen group. But morpholine rings by themselves also increase potency and usually bioavailability.

So in the narrowest technical sense, Phenmetrazine (Preludin) is classified as a morpholine instead of an amphetamine, but in every way it is an amphetamine on speed. (And every description of it anywhere says so right up front.) It was Amphetamine Plus. The little added synthetic kicker the pharmaceutical company figured out how to attach to the amphetamine made it stronger—gave it the Preludin "kick"—made the high feel better in general (according to all this crap I spent way too much time reading) and also made it way more addictive. It increased dopamine and norepinephrine reuptake, and the compound itself displayed “some entactogen properties more similar to MDMA." It made Preludin far more psychoactive than straight amphetamines. Made smells stronger, sensations more intense, and made you horny and "increased performance." It was taken off the market in 1980 because it was so hyper-addictive and the “psycho-toxicity” was so extreme. People reported doing things they barely remembered, including to a kind of freakish degree, like a lot of users committing crimes for the very first time in their lives. And so the company tried to replace it with a similar drug called Prelu-2, which is apparently still available but also almost never prescribed because even that was excessively addictive compared to non-boosted amphetamines.

And also, it made you feel body odors?

"...perfumes and flowers get a stronger smell, and body odours are felt more strongly than under normal conditions."

- (United Nations Bulletin; Vol XX, No. 2)

What are normal conditions? Maybe my normal conditions are different from everyone else's because I don't normally feel body odors?? But tbh I would literally try this drug just to see if I could.

Okay.

So... John was feeling some serious body odors because my man took a lot of them. Usually with lots of booze.

And apparently they made him more awesome.

George spoke graphically of how they would be “frothing at the mouth … we used to be up there foaming, stomping away.” John, as always, dived straight in, wholeheartedly grabbing another new experience with an open mouth and no thought of tomorrow. The Beatles called them “pep pills”—the commonly used British term of the period—and also “Prellies.”

...Two pills a night were more than enough for most but John frequently took four or five, and in conjunction with hour after hour of booze he became wired, a high-speed gabbling blur of talent, torment and hilarity.

- “Tune In” - Chapter 19; Piedels on Prellies

Yeah, he sounds like a blast. Good thing you got a quote there, my guy. I'm sure the first description that would’ve come to his roommates’ minds would be “hilarity.” Or second, after “hero.” (Sorry, I don't want to be hard on John. I have a lot of bandwidth and patience for drug indulgences, especially in a situation like this, but Lewisohn is unbelievable.)

Ruth Lallemannd, a St. Pauli barmaid who knew the Beatles from 1960, recalls an occasion when “They crushed ten Prellies to powder, put them in a bottle of Cola and shared it between them. They were always wound up.”

Drugs cost money

Amazingly enough though, these prescription-only pills didn't just magically get from people with nice doctors to John’s hands. Someone sold them to someone else and they ended up with “the toilet lady,” Tante Rosa, who sold them.

They looked like little white sweets … but these were no mint drops.

- Chapter 19

So cute!

Preludin small-print advised against its being taken less than six hours before bedtime, in case of sleep disorders.

- Chapter 19

So if Lewisohn is reading the small print of a drug that was discontinued 44 years ago he did not miss the Wikipedia page and must know that “not an amphetamine but an upper” is wildly misleading. Technically true in the chemical classification sense, but not in the medical or pharmacological sense. And true in the same way that “fentanyl isn't morphine” is true.

But that's not my point.

My point is that these “little white sweets” were strong, had wild “psycho-toxic” effects, John took a lot of them, and they weren't free.

Because drugs cost money.

Paul slept fine on just the one pill, John and George didn’t. George would recall “lying in bed, sweating from Preludin, thinking, ‘Why aren’t I sleeping?’ ” John simply took more: “You could work almost endlessly until the pill wore off, then you’d have to have another … You’d have two hours’ sleep and wake up to take a pill and get on stage, and it would go on and on and on. When you didn’t even get a day off you’d begin to go out of your mind with tiredness.”

Or, put another way, John was “a high-speed gabbling blur of talent, torment and hilarity.” And Paul did uncool stuff like sleeping.

Also, what in the...

Tony, George, Paul, John and Pete, along with Rosi and perhaps some stray females, would stagger wearily and noisily up three long flights of wooden stairs...

“Stray females”??? Is he talking about cats? Don't call human beings “strays,” you self-important oddity.

THE GROWNUP

John was never much into paying for stuff. Like rent, for instance. But that's what friends are for.

John was blessed with a particular talent for frittering away his funds (the council grant designed to provide his working materials) and was rarely in a position to pay [rent]. As Rod remembers, “During the week I’d go and have a pint with him and he’d always have money for a beer, but when it came to the day to pay the rent he was always hard up. ‘Could I owe it to you?’ ‘Would you like this jacket?’ One time he paid me with a Mounties-type Canadian jacket he’d probably nicked from someone else.”

- “Tune In” - Chapter 13; “Hi-Yo, Hi-Yo, Silver–Away!”

He paid rent with a jacket? Landlords take those?

I'm not gonna lie, the only real issue I've ever had with Paul—the things I have the most confusion and hesitancy about—are when he seems inexplicably cheap. Like paying the Wings band so little for so long. There's only a few cases that come to mind, but they're my weak point with him.

Still, having done my share of experimenting—as well as dating a guy who became a high-functioning addict before becoming a non-functioning addict before becoming an ex who died of an overdose—I know very well how it feels to see money flow through your hands like water and into someone else's bloodstream. And what happens then is you either both starve or you are the only one eating. In the end, someone has to have money to live, and the more drugs my ex took the more I was forced into being a walking, talking, pissed off safety net.

Stu supposedly got in a fight with Paul because Stu owed Paul money. (Although that doesn't explain attacking Paul out of nowhere on stage half as well as a three-days-awake-Prellie-binge psycho-toxicity does.)

It does, however, mean that at least one guy in the band who was taking Preludin was running out of money between paychecks.

And there's no way that if Stu was running out of funds that John wasn't too. And faster. And according to Lewisohn, George was eating a lot of Preludin, too. Because he was also cool.

That leaves Paul.

John was notoriously bad with money even when he had a lot, and when everyone is living and working together it's almost impossible to be the only guy eating or the only guy smoking. But at the same time if you know you can't do anything to stop your friends from going hard and never thinking at all, it tends to make you more careful. Because you're all you've got and all they've got. You didn't ask for the job, but you drew the short straw. So you hide some cigarettes and share too many, and get increasingly sick of it and resentful, but there's no good answer.

John heaped a ton of spice into the mix by suddenly moving back into Mendips. He’s unlikely to have told Mimi of the Gambier Terrace eviction, but Rod Murray knew little of this hasty departure: John left most of his possessions in the flat and several weeks’ rent unpaid—to the tune of about £15. He just scarpered.

- “Tune In” - Chapter 15; Drive and Bash

“Spice.” Dude really said “spice.” That John, so spicy. And fwiw, that's £300 today.

Maybe John had another jacket to pitch in.

Paul says he's more cautious by nature and I'm sure that's true, but also you know they all relied on him because they knew he wouldn't be as stupid as they were. Who knows what he would've done—whether he would have lived a more libertine life in Hamburg—if he'd felt like that was an option and he didn't have to be the grownup. Who knows what he would have done if anyone else gave a shit whether they ate or smoked.

I'll end by repeating the freakishly weird way Lewisohn told a John psycho-toxicity story that the AKOM ladies pointed out in Ep 8: No Greater Buddy, since it's almost impossible not to talk about John and Prellies without it.

“PAUL AND GEORGE’S HERO-WORSHIP STAYED FULLY INTACT”

George was second only to John in the swallowing of Prellies and knew better than most the sum effect of taking too many for too long, how the combination of pills plus booze plus several sleepless days caused hallucinations and extreme conduct. He’d describe one occasion when he, Paul and Pete were lying in their bunk beds, trying to sleep, only for John to barge into the room in a wild state. “One night John came in and some chick was in bed with Paul and he cut all her clothes up with a pair of scissors, and was stabbing the wardrobe. Everybody was lying in bed thinking, ‘Oh fuck, I hope he doesn’t kill me.’ [He was] a frothing mad person—he knew how to have ‘fun.’ ”

Handling John was something his friends were well used to doing. If he didn’t murder them in their beds there was no greater buddy. They might fear for their lives but they loved him still. No way would they walk out and join another group. John was just John, and Paul and George’s hero-worship stayed fully intact.

- “Tune in” - Chapter 28; You Better Move On

Mark Lewisohn knows nothing about drugs or drug culture. Which is fine. Good. Great, even. But the thing is, it doesn't stop him from knowing everything about it. He has confidently and emphatically stated that John and Yoko weren't doing heroin in the daytime during the Get Back sessions. He even claims that they weren't on heroin during the Two Junkies interview. Even repeating this paraphrase makes me feel ridiculous, but he says that was a hangover from the night before, and that they were too lucid to be high. Which, first of all, is not how heroin fucking works. They were blasted. The aftereffects would be them being antsy and jumpy, not going in extra-slow motion and puking. Blows my mind, the hubris this guy has. To confidently state something he unquestionably pulled out of his ass without even a moment's hesitation. Not only is that not how heroin works, but it is the drug that people wake up to do. Not wake up and do. Wake up to do.

And you can tell from the way he talks about John on Prellies—“a high-speed gabbling blur of talent, torment and hilarity”—that he has never experienced anyone who's been up a few days. And I still have a more daring nature than most of my friends, and am in no way shocked by the drug use. Me and my friends in Houston used to take Fastin and go midnight bowling every Saturday. The memories are good and I regret nothing. But the naive way Lewisohn romanticizes John and low key mocks Paul—as if Lewisohn was the ultimate drug buddy and Paul a total prude—is so weird. It's freakishly, embarrassingly, weird. Like he wants to be the cool guy. Like he thinks he can be the cool guy, and is being the cool guy, but to me it's painfully embarrassing and nothing else makes him look more desperate and delusional.

[midoribobatea]

Lato's Birthday 2023 - Lato's card

Part 1 & Part 2

(Not 100% accurate translation ,So sorry in advance for any mistranslation and any missgramer)

Under The Moonlight - part 1:

*Notice before reading the Butler Story: This story contains some spoilers for Main story - EP 3

We recommend reading this after reading the main story EP 3.

If you wish to avoid spoilers, please return using the button on the top left.

.........

- A few days before Lato's birthday -

With Lato's birthday coming up soon...I was thinking about what present to buy for him.

So... I thought I'd talk to Flure and Miyaji about it, and when I called out to them...

For some reason, we all ended up gathering in the wine cellar in the basement floor of the mansion.

Miyaji: I'm sorry, master. I made you come all the way to a place like this.

Choices:

<Why here?>

Flure: Umm...well... because Lato has good hearing...

Flure: We were worried that our conversation might be overheard if we were somewhere else..so we ended up here.

Miyaji: Sounds,voices are usually hardly echo in the wine cellar...so there's no need to worry about Lato hearing us.

Choices:

<I see>

Miyaji: Then...about the birthday present for Lato.

Miyaji: Actually, me and Flure too have been talking about it for a while now.

Miyaji: But we can't seem to decide... If it's alright, I'd like to think it over together with you master...

Choices:

<Thank you>

<Of course, Please>

Miyaji: Great. if the three of us discuss it together I'm sure we'll come up with a good idea.

Choices:

<Right>

Flure: Hmm, a present... I guess it would be safe to give Lato something he likes.

Miyaji: Speaking of things that Lato likes...

Choices:

<Like parsley>

Flure: That's right. parsley is Lato's favorite food.

Flure: But... it doesn't really feel like a birthday present...

Miyaji: In that case... how about a handmade picture book or an original song...?

Miyaji: Lato also likes reading picture books and listening to music.

Choices:

<I see, That sounds good>

Flure: That's right... That feels more like a birthday present.

Flure: Alright! Let's give Lato one of those two...!

Lato: What are you doing in a place like this?

Choices:

<!?>

Flure: L-Lato?! Why are you?

Lato: When I returned to our room, Flure and Professor Miyaji were not there, so I came to look for you.

Flure: S-so that's what happened...

Lato: Hello, master.

Choices:

<H-hello Lato>

Lato: By the way.... What were you three talking about?

Choices:

<Well...>

Miyaji: That's...

Flure: Umm... well...

Lato: Hm?

Flure: M-master...!

Flure: Master asked what wines we would recommend...so we were just showing a few.

Flure: Isn't that right, master?

Choices:

<Y-Yeah>

Lato: Hmm... Then show me too.

Flure: Wha...?!

Lato: Master... What kind of wine are you interested in?

Lato: I don't know much about alcohol, but I'd be interested in the wine you choose.

Choices:

<U-umm...>

Lato: .......

Lato: Haha... just kidding.

Lato: after all it was just a lie that you were looking for wine, right?

Choices:

<Huh...?>

Miyaji: So after all.. you noticed.

Lato: Yes.

Lato: You were actually talking about my birthday present, didn't you?

Flure: D-did you hear that?

Lato: Yes. When I returned to our room, I faintly heard master's voice.

Lato: I followed the voice..and ended up here at the wine cellar.

Miyaji: So that's what happened... By the way, from which part did you hear us?

Lato: Since the parsley talking part.

Miyaji: Almost everything... As expected of Lato.

Flure: Seriously...you really do have good ears.

Lato: Haha... I am especially sensitive to master's voice.

Choices:

<I-Is that so...>

Lato: I felt like it would be better to pretend I didn't hear in this situation...

Lato: But there was something I really wanted for my birthday, so I ended up calling out to you.

Miyaji: Something you want? What is it?

Lato: A parsley cake.

Choices:

<P-Parsley cake?>

Lato: Yes, this is the cake that appeared in a picture book I read a long time ago.

Choices:

<(There's a picture book like that...)>

Lato: It looked like a very interesting dish, so it made a lasting impression on me.

Flure: Umm... Is there really such a picture book?

Miyaji: Come to think of it... I think I made a picture book like that for Lato a long time ago...

Flure: Huh? Professor Miyaji did...?

Lato: Yes. It was a handmade picture book that professor Miyaji made for me.

Choices:

<So you can make picture books, Miyaji>

Miyaji: Well, even if I call it a picture book... I didn't really make anything that impressive or anything like that.

Miyaji: I wondered at that time if there was something I can make that could interest Lato even just a little...

Miyaji: I made this a long time ago when I was still researching.

Miyaji: I do remember the picture book depicted a sponge cake mixed with parsley...

Miyaji: I think it was a cake served with parsley cream...

Lato: It was also topped with finely chopped parsley.

Flure: T-that's sounds...

Choices:

<Like a parsley cake..>

Miyaji: Hmm..

Miyaji: It's a special day for you, Lato. Then, If that's what you want, I'd like to make it come true.

Lato: And if I can ask one more thing...

Lato: If you don't mind, I'd like to make that cake together with you...master.

Choices:

<With me?>

Lato: We can't?

Choices:

<It's not that, but..>

<No, I was just a little surprised>

Miyaji: Master, I'm not sure if it's even appropriate for a butler to ask you to do something like this, but...

Miyaji: Could you please help bake this cake with Lato?

Choices:

<Let's bake it together Lato!>

<Sure!>

Lato: Thank you master.

Flure: Good for you, Lato.

Lato: Haha..Once it's ready, I'll let Flure try it too.

Flure: Huh? Y-yeah...Thanks..

Flure: Ah, but…Do you know how to bake a cake?

Lato: No, I have no idea.

Flure: Y-you wanted to make it without even know how to bake?

Miyaji: Don't worry about that, I'll find out how to make it before the day comes.

Miyaji: Master, you can rest assured too.

Choices:

<If Miyaji says so>

<Thank you Miyaji>

Lato: Haha..I'm looking forward to it, master.

Choices:

<Yeah>

- A few days later -

Then, on Lato's birthday in the afternoon...

Miyaji gave us a note written with the recipe... After gathering all the ingredients for the cake, me and Lato went to the kitchen.

Meanwhile Miyaji and Flure prepared for the party in the basement butlers room.

Lato: Speaking of which, this recipe note we received from Professor Miyaji...

Lato: Apparently he asked Lono to help him with it.

Choices:

<So Lono also helped out>

Lato: Yes. Both Lono and Professor Miyaji did it for me...they are very kind.

Choices:

<Okay, Shall we start baking?>

Lato: Yes, let's bake it.

Then we started cooking while looking at the recipe notes.

During the baking process...Lato broke some plates and spilled some ingredients...

It wasn't a smooth process,but...

I followed along as best as I could too... Somehow, Lato and I were able to make the cake according to the recipe.

- After a while -

Lato: Master, the cake dough is ready.

Choices:

<Next, we need to apply the cream>

Lato: Understood.

We spread fresh cream mixed with parsley on the baked dough.

Finally, We sprinkled chopped parsley on the top and the special cake is complete.

Lato: Haha... It looks just like in the picture book.

Lato: Thanks to master's help... I have finally completed my long-awaited parsley cake.

Lato: I could never have made such a wonderful cake by myself.

Lato: Thank you for granting my wish, master.

Choices:

<Today is Lato's birthday after all>

< I'm glad it made you happy>

Lato: Haha... I feel like eating it right now.

Lato: But Professor Miyaji and Flure are preparing the party, so... I'll just have to be patient.

Choices:

<Right>

Lato: Now... before we bring the cake...

Lato: After I change into the costume Flure has prepared. Let's return to the butler's room in the basement...

Under The Moonlight - part 2:

- After a while -

Lato: Sorry to keep you waiting.

Lato: What do you think about this costume?

Choices:

<It suits you>

<So cool>

Lato: Hehe.. Thank you.

Lato: It's a costume that Flure made for me. It's very beautiful, I really love it.

Lato: Now that I'm all dressed… let’s bring the cake.

[Devil's Palace basement hallway]

Knock Knock…

Lato: Is it okay to come in now?

Miyaji: Yes. It's okay now.

Lato: It looks like we can come in. Shall we go?

Choices:

<Yeah>

Clunk...

Miyaji: Welcome to the birthday party venue. Lato and master.

Miyaji: We've just finished preparing it.

Flure: Oh! You've changed into your costume, Lato.

Lato: That's right. How is it?

Flure: Didn't I already told you though when you first tried it on?

Lato: I would like to hear it again.

Flure: Wasn't it enough? It suits you very well.

Lato: Haha... I was complimented by master too just before.

Lato: Thank you Flure, for this beautiful costume.

Flure: You're welcome hehe.

Flure: I'm glad you liked it.

Miyaji: Haha..So Lato, did you enjoy making the cake?

Lato: Yes. It was fun to cook with master.

Lato: Take a look. We made a parsley cake that looks just like the one in the picture book.

Flure: I kind of imagined what it would look like but... W-woah What a strong color.

Flure: This... is not matcha, it's parsley, right?

Lato: Yes, there was a lot of slicing, chopping and mixing involved.

Flure: W-Wow...

Miyaji: Did any of you two got injured anywhere?

Lato: Yes. We are alright thanks to master's support.

Miyaji: Then that's good.

Miyaji: Thank you, master. For all of your help and doing it for Lato.

Choices:

<It was fun cooking with Lato>

Miyaji: Haha..If that's the case I'm glad.

Miyaji: Now then, Lato. I would like you to receive this present from us.

Miyaji said as he placed a lot of dishes on the table.

Lato: this is...

Choices:

<Since when did you prepare it?>

Miyaji: Actually, I was cooking in the kitchen early this morning.

Miyaji: After hearing that Lato is going to make a cake with master.

Miyaji: I wanted to prepare something too for Lato.

Miyaji: I used parsley while preparing the dishes so that Lato could eat it.

Miyaji: By the way, this fried chicken has parsley mixed into the batter...while this is a potage that uses plenty of parsley...

Miyaji: I was able to make it thanks to Lono's help in tasting it, so I'm sure it's delicious.

Choices:

<Amazing!>

Lato: Professor Miyaji, Thank you.

Flure: Well then, it's my turn next.

Flure: Here. This present is from me.

Lato: Oh. this is quite a beautiful box.

Lato: Thank you, Flure. I'll treasure this box.

Flure: ...No, the box is just a container. The gift is what's inside the box.

Flure: Try opening it quickly.

Lato: Inside it? Alright...

When Lato opened the box, he found beautiful forks and spoons inside.

Lato: This is…?

Flure: It's a cutlery set.

Flure: Use it to eat a variety of dishes other than just parsley.

Flure: If you keep being picky about what you like and dislike, you'll end up damaging your health.

Lato: Flure..You were worried about my health...

Lato: Hehe... Thank you so much, I'll treasure it.

Flure: Yeah...

Miyaji: Now that we have given you the presents...

Miyaji: Shall we start the birthday party?

Lato: Yes. So, first of all...

Lato: ..should I start with this cake using the cutlery that Flure gave me.?

Flure: Are you going to start with the cake first?!

Lato: Yes, is it a problem?

Flure: Well..it's Lato's birthday after all... I guess it's best to let him eat what he likes.

Lato: Well, I'll try it.

Lato: Hm.... *munch munch*.

Choices:

<Is it delicious?>

Lato: Yes, it tastes like parsley and it's very delicious.

Choices:

<I'm glad>

Then Lato cut a small piece from the cake... and picked it with the fork, and held it out in front of me.

Choices:

<Huh?>

Lato: Here master try it too.

Flure: Wait-- Lato! What do you think you're doing to master?

Lato: It was so delicious... I really wanted master to try it too...

Lato: Now.... Open your mouth, master.

Miyaji: La..Lato...I understand how you feel, but if you suddenly do something like that, it will cause a problem for the master too.

Lato: Oh... Is there something wrong?

Lato: Professor Miyaji once told us that "the more good things we share, the happier everyone will be."

Miyaji: That's, well... I did said that sometime long ago...

Lato: That's why... I want to share the deliciousness of the cake with the master too.

Lato: Master... Is it bad...?

Choices:

<I-If it's only just one bite...>

Lato: Thank you. Then, Here you go..

Although I was a little hesitant, I took a bite of the piece of cake that Lato offered me.

Lato: Hehe... Master, is it delicious?

Choices:

<M..Mm-hmm>

<I-it's delicious>

Lato: That's good.

Maybe it was because I was nervous... but to be honest, I couldn't really tell the taste of the cake...

But seeing the happy look on Lato's face... made me feel happy too.

- Tonight -

After Lato's birthday party was over... I was relaxing in my room.

While peeking outside the window for a moment, I noticed the beautiful full moon in the sky.

Knock Knock…

Choices:

<Come in>

Clunk...

Lato: Greetings, master

Choices:

<Lato, did something happened?>

Lato: I'd like to have a little chat with you, master.

Lato: If you'd like... would you like to go for a walk outside with me?

Choices:

<Outside?>

My eyes instinctively turn through the window to the moon rising outside.

Lato: It's alright, master. Now I no longer feel pain when I see the full moon.

Choices:

<Are you really okay…?>

Lato: It's really okay. I'm not forcing myself.

Lato: Would you like to come with me?

Choices:

<Okay>

Lato: Haha..Thank you, master.

Step... step...

Lato and I walkd together under the moonlight.

Lato looked at the full moon rising in the sky... rather than looking distressed, he was smiling with joy.

Lato: Being able to take a walk like this with master on a full moon night...

Lato: I couldn't even imagine it just a short time ago.

Choices:

<I'm happy too>

Lato: Haha...

Lato: ......It really feels like a dream.

Lato: Until recently, full moon nights were nothing but painful for me.

Lato: I was suddenly overcome by an inexplicable anxiety and fear, and I lost my composure, breaking things in the room.

Lato: There were times when I harmed Professor Miyaji and others.

Lato: This has always...always...

Lato: This has always happened for over 200 years.

Lato: But everything changed...ever since I met you master.

Lato: The full moon that was once such a painful experience

Lato: Is now just feels so beautiful.

Lato: This is all thanks to meeting you, master.

Choices:

<Lato...>

Then Lato stopped and looked straight in my eyes.

Then he smiled and removed the gloves he was wearing...

Lato: Master... can I hold your hand for just a little while...?

Choices:

<What?>

I was a little confused, but... I reached out my hand towards Lato's outstretched hand.

His cold hand gently held mine.

Lato: Warm…

Lato: I can feel master's life force.

Choices:

<U-umm>

Then Lato pulled my hand towards him and pressed the back of my hand against his cheek.

Choices:

<Lato...!?>

Lato: Shhh. quiet.

Lato: You don't want the other butlers to notice us, right?

Choices:

<S-sorry...>

<B-but...>

Lato: Haha...

Lato: Right now...I am very happy.

Lato: Being next to master.... being able to see master's smile....

Lato: I feel happy to be alive, more than I've ever felt before.

Lato: This...is what called love, right?

Choices:

<T-That...>

<.........>

Lato: Just being able to feel master's warmth like this... makes me feel at ease.

Lato: You, master... have become an indispensable part of my life.

Choices:

<Lato...>

Lato: That's why, master.

Lato: Please don't ever disappear from me...

Lato: Can you promise me that?...

Choices:

<Of course...>

<I'm not going anywhere>

Lato: Haha, thank you.

Lato: Then, me too... I promise not to leave your side.

Lato: We will always be together...forever.

Choices:

<Yes...>

Lato: You are the first person I have ever felt such love and desire to cherish.

Lato: I'm not much interested in my own life but if...

Lato: Next year's birthday too... Two years from now, and ten years from now...

Lato: I could spend those times forever together with you like this, master...

Lato: Looking forward to that... I want to live.

Saying this, he gently squeezed my hand again.

Hearing those words... I squeezed his hand tightly back.

Choices:

<We will celebrate every year>

Lato: Master...

Lato: Yes... that's a promise...

Lato: Because I believe in master...

I felt Lato's cold hands gradually warming up.

Through the warmth of his hands, I could really feel Lato's life force.

- End -

[svtjinny]

JUYEON :: GAME CATERERS x SVT | 01

[editors captions] | speaking | english , but she only speaks it once and it's clarified there warning: food mentions, use of a razor is mentioned [if i forgot anything don't hesitate to lmk and i'll add it here] for context, during the filming of game caterers she was blonde. she dyed her hair again soon after.

ep 1-1

the first time you see jinny in the episode is when the camera turns to hoshi, mingyu & jinny squatting during s.coups's intro

then again you can see the three

jinny : do well, leader coups!

the camera cuts to jinny yelling during mingyus intro

finally its jinny's part!! they played hot

[ Finally, the 14th member ]

[ The second blonde in SEVENTEEN ]

[ The older ones are her fanboys ]

jinny starts dancing to the post chorus, up until the end of her part (end of chorus)

[ (Jinny) (Vocal Team) (Youngest) ]

[ (Designated cook of SEVENTEEN) ]

[ (Always a Social Butterfly) ]

everyone was shouting during her part as always.. and she was just dancing there and giggling

jinny's last part in the intro is during the super dance bit where they cut to her dancing

theres a small scene of her while they're standing

jinny : i'm already tired and it's only the first time.. how will we perform this...?

she starts laughing when seungkwan is trying to introduce the show

jinny : our seungkwannie works too hard, can you tell? while looking at the staff sitting down LMAO

when they're going to sit she walks in after dino & sits with him, next to joshua

[ (Golden Kids sit together) ]

when s.coups says he doesn't have any friends sitting around him, jinny leans back in her seat and looks towards him

jinny : you'll start rumors with that kind of talk..

during seungcheol's interview she looks at him at the "curious meerkats" part

jinny : [turns to chan] you know, i've been wondering why you've been so moody lately~ while he was explaining why he and seungkwan fought

when joshua picked up his water bottle she moved away so fast

jinny : i was scared he was actually gonna do it :(

[ (Has to keep her guard up) ]

after jun explained while he was so quiet during hybe picnic, the camera cut to jinny looking at him and then a couple of videos of her interacting with EVERYONE at the picnic :sob:

[ Unlike Jinny, who was ready to greet everyone~ ]

when jun said they weren't normal she laughed

jinny : wow, junnie.. i thought you loved us?

that was her last scene in 1-1

ep 1-2

jinny's first part in 1-2 was her agreeing woozi never leaves home

jinny : i always have to drag him out...he's like a vampire

[ Youngest in charge of getting her brothers to sunlight? ]

seungkwan : [seungkwans interview part // after hoshi, before the na pd coupon bit] after the show, jinny told me "you could do better at hosting, honestly"

[ M COUNTDOWN Host Jinny giving feedback ]

the camera cut to jinny laughing at what he said

jinny : i was teasing him~ in all seriousness, i was proud of seungkwan-oppa for being able to host in the show in front of all the groups even though he was nervous

jinny : ["dino, which razor did you use today?" // while they were laughing] he used gillette~ i watched him earlier

[ (16 year best friend can confirm for us) ]

finally it's jinny's turn!

na pd : jinny.. ah, there you are. nice to see you again.

[ Finally, the last member Jinny ]

[ Jinny was the extrovert of Game Caterers x HYBE! ]

na pd : when we looked at the comments of the videos with you before, CARATs were saying you were so friendly with every group there because you were already friends with them. is that true?

jinny : partly, yes! i've either worked with them all on choreo or songs or i knew them from being an MC. but, i am just naturally friendly.. i think i would've felt a little awkward if i just sat there like my members.

[ Youngest is the extrovert of the group ^^ ]

dino : i can back that up! jinny was the one who asked to be friends when we first met..

dokyeom : i remember when we began training as a group, jinny would go out of her way to talk to everyone

jinny : she got flustered :( i wanted to get to know the people i would be stuck in a group with.. you guys are much different now though..

[ (Jinny, is that good or bad?) ]

her bit was her last part in 1-2 !

ep 1-3

this time she sits between seungkwan & seungcheol [ 1:32 : she sits between kwan & hoshi | 14:49 : she sits between cheol & hoshi | 18:30 & 18:49 : she sits between to wonwoo & joshua | 20:35 : she's second in line, next to wonwoo ]

they changed seats so many times.. so if you wanna know where she sits when they move, refer to this LMAO

jinny : ["the game is over food"] food? i think i'll be good at this.. then she giggled

[ (SEVENTEEN's Food Know-It-All) ]

the camera went to her agreeing and laughing when seungcheol said they only listen to the minority in arguments

jinny : [when everyone began yelling over acorn jelly] you see, this is how we settle arguments...shouting

the camera cuts to her being zoned out until cheol gets his question wrong

jinny : [to cheol] yah, why are you sitting there? you're not good at games..

jinny : [ when mingyu moves // to seungkwan ] i think we were all just nervous, kwannie, cut him some slack

cue cheol hitting her leg right after that bc of what she said to him before LMAO

[ (Jinny was the only one to get a question right last year) ]

[ Perks of being an MC? ]

jinny : ["i don't think i'll get it" - wonwoo] i'm sure you'll do fine, oppa. i think it's a lot more nerve-wracking when it's almost your turn. she pats his shoulder while speaking

wonwoo gets his question right :proud: it's jinny's turn now !!!

[ (Next is Jinny, master at the character quiz) ]

the camera zooms in on her concentrating; her person was taeyeon & ofc she got it right !!!! that's mother

jinny : [she puts her head in her lap then brings it back up] wow, i was so scared it would be someone i didn't know..

mingyu : but who don't you know?? [some members start to laugh]

seungkwan : right right, that's what i was going to say!

[ Her members disagree with her for once ]

[ (Let's keep this in mind next time SEVENTEEN visits) ]

jinny : [when joshua got his 'cramp'] she looks at the camera while smiling and then turns to joshua playing along and saying are you okay?

that's it for 1-3 !!

ep 1-4

jinny's first scene was when they reached shua hoshi n cheol on the quiz

[ Urgh/Performance Team leader/Knows everyone/Leader]

her next part is after dino gets mimi

her person was irene (rv) please she was so relieved

jinny got down to the floor and bowed bc they gave her such an easy question :sob:

[ (Thankful for getting someone who she admires) ]

[ (Jinny is the REVELUV president!) ]

jinny : [to hoshi] it's okay~ it can't be that bad...horanghae!

[ (Encouragement) ]

and then the camera turns to staff going "aww".. she gained some fans that day

she moved to the middle between wonwoo and hansol

jinny : you got it wrong? amazing [eng.]

and some of the members started mimicking her "amazing"

[ The two peaks: Jinny and Vernon ]

[ (It's Jinny's turn) ]

her character was wonyoung !!! got it right obvi

[ (Jang Wonyoung, who she's made songs for) ]

[ Even helped with her debut ] + they played a snippet of eleven

jinny : i don't have any faith in us winning the kimchi, but at least i got all my questions right!

they all starting shouting when she said that and she just laughed LMAO

[ (The one who's usually loud watching chaos surround her) ]

skip to when they were eating gyu's cake; she was standing next to joshua (around 23:40)

the camera was zoomed in and you could see shua holding jinny's chin and feeding her a piece

[ (Taking good care of their sister) ]

and that's all! part one was so chaotic but yk i had to end it on a cute note

from xia ! : ermm i got too lazy to change the bold

[dragon-creates]

She Was Like A Sunflower

Read on AO3

1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9/10/11/12

UM!!! EP 2 WAS SO GOOD!!!!! GUMMI GOO😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭!!!!!!! Um yeah that's all I have to say, sorry this is late lmao. Hopefully I'll get back to a better schedule soon. Also, trigger warning for child abuse in the first few paragraphs in this chapter as it does go into detail with Jack's backstory. As always I will put (1) when it starts and (2) when it finishes. All I want is for my audience to feel safe so if this is something that you know you can't read please don't feel ashamed skipping this. Stay safe xx.

3. Seven

And I've been meaning to tell you I think your house is haunted Your dad is always mad and that must be why And I think you should come live with Me and we can be pirates Then you won't have to cry - Seven by Taylor Swift

.

.

.

(1)

“Jack! Jack! Get out here you little shit!”

A five-year-old boy whimpered at the loud voice, crouching behind a garden shed in the backyard. He held his breath, begging for the voice not to find him. In his arms he held a small, trembling baby rabbit, its nose twitching in panic as they hid.

“You can’t hide forever Jack!”

The young boy had come home from school, wanting to get into the house and not bother anyone. He had to be good, he will be good! But sometimes, good didn’t seem to be enough. Even when he was ‘good’ they still hurt him…

That was when he saw Luke, kicking a baby rabbit in the front yard. The poor thing was limping, it had probably wandered too far from its mama, now Luke was torturing it for his own amusement. He begged Luke to stop, to do something else, but the teenager had gripped his face and growled at the child to mind his own business. Jack didn’t know why he did it, maybe it was a reflex from the sudden fright he felt, but he kicked Luke in the stomach, leaving the older boy winded. There was nothing but red-hot rage in Luke’s eyes, that’s how Jack knew how much trouble he was really in.

So he picked up the rabbit, ran through the house and out into the back garden, now he was here. He heard Luke’s footsteps on the grass. Jack held his breath, forcing himself to not make any sudden noise. The seconds were achingly long, his heart pounding against his chest as he tried to hear if Luke was approaching or not. The footsteps stopped, Jack squeezed his eyes shut, as though this were all a nightmare and he would be waking up soon.

Unfortunately he was very much awake when a hand grabbed him by the hair and through him onto the open ground, forcing him to drop the baby rabbit. “You think you can get away with that?! Huh?!” Luke mocked, kicking the boy in the stomach as Jack let out a cry. “Come on! Finish what you started!”

“I’m sorry Luke! I’m sorry!” Jack wailed as the teen kicked him in the knees. “It was an accident!”

Luke paused, a sadistic grin creeping on his face as a vile idea came to mind, “Accident? Heh, I’ll show you an accident.”

His eyes darted to the baby rabbit still limping on the ground and marched towards it. Jack looked up from the ground, pushing himself up as he scanned the grass for the rabbit. It was only when he heard a crunch and a distressed squeak did his heart plummet to the pit of his stomach. Luke stomped on the little rabbit over and over again, little squeals leaving it as it writhed in pain. “No!” Jack cried, trying to stand despite his aching limbs. “Luke, stop it! Please, stop!”

Luke ignored him, continuing his attack on the poor creature. Jack tried to stand as quick as he could, the blood rushing to his head as he swayed on his feet. By the time he was fulling standing it was too late. There was nothing left of the rabbit but a mangled corpse and a manic sneer on Luke’s face. The blond teen turned to the young boy, shrugging as it he only flicked a piece of dust off his shirt, “What? It was just an accident?”

Suddenly, Jack didn’t feel the lightness in his head anymore. He squeezed his fists, a rush of adrenaline rushing through his veins as he screamed, running to Luke and tackling him to the ground. The blond wasn’t expecting this reaction, letting out a screech as he felt sharp nails scratch across the skin on his face.

“How dare you!” Jack screamed, not ceasing. “He did nothing to you! Why did you kill him?!” There were stains of red, Luke grunted as he tried to stop the scratching but Jack’s hands were too fast for him to catch. “I hate you!”

When Luke finally caught one of Jax’s hands, did clarity start to fill the young boy, along with the fearful dread. He tried to run, but Luke’s grip was firm and bruising as he stood up. With his other hand, his fingertips tapped against the blood on his face, inspecting it closely. A small chuckle left the blonde, lacking humour and filled with nothing but bad intentions. And little Jack had nowhere to run and no chance to hide now.

“Luke, please don’t do this,” Jack whimpered, trying to pull away from the older boy’s hold on his upper arm.

“Too late,” Luke hissed, his head turning back to the large, ivory house. “DAD! MOM! COME SEE WHAT JACK DID!”

Jack’s blood ran cold. Luke was already a bitter, vile person, but even bad people had to learn their behaviour from somewhere. As for Luke, he had received it from his parents. The only people – other than Luke – Jack feared the most, “Luke, I’m sorry! I’m really sorry!”

But his cries fell on deaf, ignorant ears. Two adults rushed out the house, a man and women in their mid-forties with scowls that seemed to be printed onto their faces. Luke’s parents, the ones who had also adopted Jack.

The woman let out a sharp, horrified gasp, “You! What did you do to my son?!”

“Little bastard attacked me out of nowhere,” Luke threw the child forward, making him fall forward and land on his palms.

Jack barely had any time to gather himself before a rough hand grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt and lifted him up. Luke’s father glared at him, a cigarette hanging up his lips as Jack tried to not breathe any of the smoke being forced down his nostrils. “You think I accept that behaviour in my house?!” He glowered.

“I-I’m sorry sir!” Jack wailed. “But he killed that bunny! He stomped on it till it couldn’t move! I just wanted to protect him!”

“All this over a stupid rabbit?!” The foster mother screeched. “You’re nothing but a little monster! Hurting my boy over a useless rodent!”

Jack’s eyes widened at what she had said. How cold and callous her words were. How she devalued the life of an innocent creature who couldn’t take care of itself. He turned his gaze to Luke, the boy holding a t-shirt his mother fished from the laundry basket and held it to his face. He was still grinning, blood staining his teeth, looking more like the monster that his mother was talking about.

“Get in!” The man growled, dragging the boy into the house again. Jack grunted as his feet scrapped against the ground with the sudden, harsh movement, feeling Luke’s eyes on him as the blonde’s father kept pulling him.

He didn’t stop until the boy was pushed into the kitchen and the door was slammed shut behind him. The man’s grip moved from the back of his shirt to his foreman, nearly cutting off the child’s circulation.

He took the cigarette out of his mouth, “This is what happens to little brats who act out of line.”

Jack gasped, the realisation of why they went inside finally setting in. His foster father didn’t want to risk any prying eyes, any witnesses to see what he was about to do next.

Jack struggled, trying to escape, but the man struck him across the face, his ring leaving a mark in the child’s delicate skin.

The cigarette moved closer to his arm, the young boy crying and writhing. The blunt hadn’t even touched him yet somehow he could already feel it.

The flaming end met his skin.

And Jack’s scream echoed throughout the empty house.

(2)

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Jax gasped, sitting up straight in his bed as he clutched his hand to his chest. He scanned the surroundings, even putting a hand to his forearm to feel for any scarring. His breathing slowed, relief settling when he saw that he was in his own room, and that there were no scars to be found. Just an armful of purple fur instead.

He felt a body stir next to him, Pomni had the blankets tucked around her like a cocoon. Jax didn’t mind, he got too warm most nights anyway. He settled back down, sliding and arm round her waist and pulled her close. He felt her chest against his, rising and falling with each breath. He matched his own with hers, letting it calm his racing heart. His eyes began to droop when he heard a small voice.

“Did you have a nightmare?” Pomni asked, peering up at him with sleepy eyes.

Jax sighed, he promised not to lie to her and he wasn’t going back on it now or ever, “Yeah, I did.”

“Are you okay? You wanna talk about it?” She attempted to sit up. He patted his hand against her waist, reassuring her that she was fine where she was.

“It was about my old foster family,” he told her. “Way before I met Winter.”

“Oh, babe,” she tucked her head under his chin, snuggling close. “You didn’t deserve anything that they put you through. I’m so sorry that you had to relive that in your head.”

“There’s nothing you gotta apologise for,” Jax kissed the top of her forehead. “Honestly, I don’t think about them a lot anymore. I know that sounds ironic cause of Luke confronting me back then. But they don’t mean anything to me, they don’t matter…but you do, more than anything.

He felt her lips smile against his chest, pressing a small kiss next to his heart, “You mean more than anything to me too.”

Jax pulled her closer again, feeling his eyes fluttering shut as sleep came for him once again, “Thanks little lady.”

“I am not a little lady,” she mumbled causing him to chuckle, his voice vibrating against her ear.

The nightmare was at the back of his mind, his eyes gazing on the small jester curled up beside him. Luke didn’t matter anymore, his old foster family didn’t matter anymore. Thinking of them never did anything good for him, there was no need to focus on his past when his future was right next to him. He would talk about them if the situation occurred, he didn’t want to repeat the mistakes of secrets, but Pomni was all that mattered. And that was okay.

With one last sigh, he pressed a kiss to her forehead, joining her in a peaceful, blissful sleep. His dreams for the rest of the night were filled with the smiles of a certain brunette.

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Another day, another adventure. Everyone already had the same shared opinion of Caine’s adventures, but one of the worst things they all agreed on had to be mentally preparing themselves for whatever it was going to be. It was a process that had each one of them dreading for whatever Caine had created for them. Sometimes they were the most thrilling and exciting experiences they ever had, others were boring and had them wanting to go back to their quarters, but the worst ones had to be when they were left emotionally or physically scarred with the most haunting imagery that would be stuck in their minds forever. They never understood why Caine would create such adventures like those, how could he ever think they were fun?

Jax shuddered, hoping for at least a boring adventure instead of the awful third option. He turned to Pomni – who was busy talking to Ragatha – he definitely didn’t want her dealing with that type of adventure. She had already been through enough as it is. He knew that they were to keep a low profile, but he also knew that Caine was unpredictable. Whatever adventure was chosen, he was going to stick as close to Pomni as he could. The last time they were separated she nearly…

“Good morning my superstars!” Caine beamed, a juxtaposition to the circus members sleepy and dreary attitude. “Don’t I have just the perfect adventure for all of you today!”

“Wow, such a surprise,” Jax grumbled under his breath. The jingle of Pomni’s giggle at his sentence made him smile, making sure it was hidden from Caine.

The pair of dentures didn’t seem to notice, simply continuing with his speech, “I know you all miss your old lives as boring humans, so being the gracious ringmaster that I am, I decided to base our new adventure around one of your earthly activities I heard one of you mumble about – though I can’t seem to remember who said it.”

Everyone gawked at that. Caine so rarely laid any notice or curiosity to what the outside world was like, stuck in a firm belief that the circus was the greatest place to ever reside in. This was the first time that he mentioned basing an activity on the real world, what could he even imagine what said activity involved? But more importantly, what activity did he pick?

“I’ve done the amount of research that I felt bothered to do and created this!” With a snap of his fingers, there was a flash of light and the walls of the tent disappeared. Each member blinked, rubbing their eyes from the sudden bright light. When the brightness faded, they let out a small gasp at the scene around them.

An orange sunset, tall and long hedges and miles upon miles of fresh golden corn. Caine had created a cornfield maze. Other than the vegetable, Jax felt a tingling familiarity at the sight of the maze, the memories of falling asleep with a certain jester and dreaming about his best memories of his past in a place just like this. He looked to Pomni, she seemed to be having the same familiar feeling too. She turned her head to him, her eyes twinkling and her smile sweet. He returned it with the same warmth.

“Your goal is simple!” Caine interrupted the couple’s train of thought. “It will be a race between each one of you! Whoever collects the most corn by the end of the adventure wins…oh I actually haven’t thought about that. Um, what do humans usually win at these things?”

“Oh, well it ranges from a lot of different things,” Ragatha piped up. “It could range from prize ribbons, stuffed toys, sometimes even food. Something that most people can enjoy!”

Caine hummed, tapping a finger against the bottom of his jaw, as though he were deep in thought about a life changing matter rather than a prize for a silly game, “Aha! I’ve got it! The prize can be…water! Everyone likes water! Right?”

Ragatha cringed, not surprised in the slightest from his answer, “Sure Caine.”

“Well then, I’ll you all to get started superstars!” the ringmaster grinned, about to snap his fingers. “Oh I should mention, you’re all going to be separated until all of you have found an exit! Okay, bye!”

“Wait, what?!” Pomni paled, but her question was cut short but the familiar snap of Caine’s fingers.

Jax whipped round, his heart pounding. No, no, no! He promised her he would stay! He promised to protect her! He let his feet run as fast as they would take him, not letting the red and blue woman leave his sight for a moment. But she was quickly replaced by green, towering hedges covered with the yellow vegetable he had to collect.

Jax begin to pant heavily, panic filling him from head to toe. Would she be alright? They hadn’t left each other’s sides ever since they got their memories back, too afraid to let go as if they were afraid this were only another hope filled dream. Was she alright being on her own? What is something happened to her?

He took a breath, smoothing his hands over his ears until they sprung back up, picking up the basket placed next to him. Curse Caine and his sudden stupid rules. It didn’t matter, all he had to do was pick a few pieces of corn and find an exit. Maybe he would run into Pomni as well? Yeah, that’s what he had to focus on. Finding Pomni.

He plucked a piece of the edge, placing it inside the brown woven basket before walking down the path. He would find Pomni…

He will find Pomni.

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Knock, knock

“Come in!” a woman’s voice called through the door.

Riley’s wrapped her hand around the knob of the captain’s office door, with it creaking as it slowly swung open. A slender woman with warm, dark skin and brown locs sat at a table, reading through the files on her desk. Ever since Penny and Jack’s disappearance, it had thrown their entire case for a loop. But that was part of the reason why Riley was here.

“How can I help you Agent Reed?” she asked, looking up briefly before returning her attention to the papers.

“Good afternoon ma’am,” Riley stood straight, hands clasped together in front of her. The perfect picture of professionalism. “I’ve just come to receive a warrant to do a search.”

“State the place and case Reed, and I’ll see what I can do,” Rae nodded, sifting through the dozens of notes.

Riley bit her lip, praying this would work, “C&A industries ma’am, for the Penny Reed and Jack Bloom cases.”

Rae paused, the silence was somehow more deafening than Riley ever imagined it could be. The captain placed the papers down, looking back up at red-haired woman, “Weren’t you there a while ago for your case? Something about seeing if a possible witness was involved somehow?”

“Yes ma’am,” Riley nodded. “And I believe that he might be right. Which is why I’m requesting the warrant.”

“It’s also funny that you mention the case for your sister and Mr Bloom,” said Rae.

Riley raised a brow, “What do you mean?”

“We just received word this morning that the files for the missing persons cases that were related to C&A went missing. I was about to make an announcement but as you can see, because of the recent incidents I’ve become more swamped with paperwork that usual,” Rae sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Riley cringed, “It’s really become that bad?”

“Since Jack Bloom was connected to C&A, it’s opened a whole pipeline,” Rae told her. “Apparently, the company is extremely defensive with being accused of these sorts of things, and it’s not the first time someone disappeared on their property on in relation to them. However we haven’t found any proof that they were involved, so we’re still stuck in limbo until we find something to shut them down.”

“That’s why I’m asking for this warrant ma’am. There might be a chance that C&A have these files,” Riley explained. “Some of the cases had this company involved before, right? Not all, but some? Maybe this could be a good chance to see how they were connected to C&A?”

“You sure you got the right plan for this, Reed?” Rae questioned, raising a brow. Her tone was stern but not demeaning in the slightest. “C&A have a pretty tight record. One slip from us and they’ve got lawyers, attorneys, everything coming after us.”

“As long as we have the warrant, we have the right to say we’re allowed to be there,” Riley said. “I’m not going into this blind ma’am, I’ve got a plan and I know what I’m doing.”

“It’s not that I doubt you Riley, but I do know that this case is personal to you. Since it’s your sister going missing as well,” Rae took note of how the redhead tried not to stiffen up at the mention of her sister. “I just don’t want you going into this with wool over your eyes. I’ve been seeing how you and Winter come into work sometimes. Both of you would never stop grinning and smiling at one another, now it looks like you two have become strangers. I don’t want these cases getting to you to the point where you feel like you’re losing yourselves.”

Riley crossed her arms over her chest, gazing down to the floor as though she were a child being scolded. Every time she saw Winter’s face - downed and saddened from the past few months - she wanted nothing more than to kiss every inch of it. She knew Winter wasn’t ignorant to her attempts to avoid anything that attached Penny’s name to it, like retracting a hand from touching a burning flame. But she saw how it was affecting Winter. She knew that she was only trying to help, yet Riley kept turning away, kept refusing any conversation about how she was feeling. It was making things worse, she knew that. Yet the fear of watching Winter tear herself apart from grief and pain had imprinted itself on her mind, and she just couldn’t muster the courage to try and talk to her wife.

One day Riley promised herself, one day I’ll say something. Just…not now.

“Everything is fine ma’am,” she reassured Rae. “These cases are stressful, but not impossible.”

Rae hummed under her breath, fiddling with her ring finger before saying, “Okay, I’ll send to you later today. You better know what you’re doing.”

Riley grinned, a sigh of relief escaping her, “I do ma’am.”

She gave a quick nod to her superior, turning on her heel and grabbed the door handle before Rae called her one last time, “Riley.” The redhead faced her boss again. “I’m serious, be careful with this. C&A aren’t to be taken lightly.”

The captain’s voice was stoic, serious, holding deep truth that Riley was slightly nervous to ask about. But she knew that Rae was right, they had to be careful with this. “I will ma’am.”

With that, she walked out the office, straightening her blazer. She whipped her phone out of her pocket, typing quickly once it was in her hands.

I got the warrant Samual

Be ready

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Riley had told her to wait, just until things were set in stone. But Amber had never felt so restless in her life. Here she was, waiting in her living room by her old computer, with both of her daughters out of reach. Was this really what was expected of her to do? Nothing? For god’s sake! Penny was trapped inside a literal video game and she was supposed to wait?! How could any mother simply do that without complaint?!

Amber groaned, burying her face in her hands before standing and walking to the kitchen. She at least had to do something to keep her mind busy, maybe some tea would help. After all, if she had anymore coffee she was sure she would only get more agitated. She opened the cupboards, her eyes roaming each corner before landing on a familiar yellow box. She reached her hand in to fish it out, sighing with slight melancholy when she saw what type of tea it was.

Chamomile, Penny’s favourite.

Penny who completed half of Amber’s heart with Riley. Penny who wanted others to see the best in themselves when they weren’t able to do so. Penny who had gone through hardship after hardship only to end up in a place that forced her away from her family and into a state of terror.

No. Amber wasn’t going to stand by. She slammed the box onto the counter and marched out the kitchen and up the stairs into the hallway. She could figure out a way to help, even if it was just a little bit. When she made it up the stairs, she reached up to a little strong connected to a trapdoor on her roof, pulling on it carefully as a ladder slid down.

Amber couldn’t remember the last time she had been up the attic, it had seemed it had been decades ago since she stored the last childhood memory of the girls up here. But it held what she needed with the plan in her head. She climbed up the ladder, poking her head up through the trapdoor as coughed from the leftover dust from the wooden floorboards. It had definitely been a while since she had been up here. She lifted herself up inside, taking out her phone to turn on her flashlight. Despite the length of time, she knew where everything was placed and kept in here. Time to get to work.

In a few minutes, Amber had packed a box full of long-lost belongings way back from her time, hopefully it was what she needed as she climbed down the ladder and shut the trapdoor. She made her way back downstairs, placing the box on the coffee table once she was in the living room. She placed her hands on her hips, where would she start? She peered down at the box, filled to the brim with gadgets, old software and objects that she and the girls used to use in a time where technology wasn’t so advanced. She picked up a walkie talkie and a string of fairy lights, perhaps she could start with that. Amber had a long way to go, but still, at least she wasn’t waiting anymore.

She just hoped that this would work a little bit, as long as it helped bring Penny home.

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Pomni sighed as she picked up another piece of corn, placing it in her basket. She did panic when she was separated from her fiancé and the others, but so far the adventure didn’t seem to be too hectic. Just a peaceful stroll in the fields while picking corn. She smiled, breathing in the fresh air – as fresh as simulated air could be at least. Doing this reminded her of similar activities she, her mother and sister used to do when they were younger. To get away from work, school, chaos, her father. To just have a day where they could focus on making happy memories. Well, it worked.

It almost felt normal, but…she wished this was something she was doing with Riley and her mother. Riley would lift her onto her back for a ride, despite her younger sister’s protests of not being a child anymore yet would still cling to her like a koala. Amber would be pestering the girls in a way to make them smile, perhaps picking up one of the pieces of corn and waving it like a sword as she chased her daughters.

Pomni gripped the handle of her basket, a shaky breath leaving her lips. She missed them so, so much. She just wanted to go home. She wanted to feel the waft of the warm oaky smell that hit her every time she entered her mother’s home. She wanted to be squeezed in one of Riley’s protective hugs. She wanted to explore every area of her childhood home, to make sure that each place was burned into her mind so she would never forget it ever again. “I miss you guys,” she whispered under her breath, despite the isolation of where she stood.

She shook her head, she had to get a grip. Right now she had to focus on completing this adventure so she could get back to Jax and figure out the next step of their plans. Just as she was about to reach for another piece of the vegetable, a small blue butterfly fluttered out from the leaves and stems. Pomni let out a yelp at the sudden appearance, tripping and falling back, the corn spilling out of the basket as it toppled to the ground. She kicked her feet, backing away from the bug – the last time she was near a butterfly she nearly…

She started to tremble at the memory, internally scolding herself for getting frightened by a single insect. But the feeling of the cold water forcing her down, down, down – burning her lungs as the simulated feeling of being unable to breathe wouldn’t leave her brain. Her chest started to heave with each panicked pant as the butterfly inched closer, fearing that it would glitch if it touched her again and send her into another spiral.

It got closer, she shut her eyes, bracing for that painful static when-

“Don’t be afraid.”

Her eyes snapped open, scanning the area. She swore she heard a voice, like it belonged to an older woman. But it was just her and the butterfly.

“It’s not going to hurt you dear,”

There it was again, “Who’s there?!”

“Just someone who wants to help.”

Pomni scoffed, disbelief curling her lips into strained smile, “How can I trust you if I can’t even see you?”

“I’m sorry. I wish you could, but the rules of this game won’t allow you to see my face. Not anymore.”

The jester raised a brow. Here was a voice, a voice so different, so foreign and unlike anything she had ever heard in the circus before. But for some reason, it didn’t seem bad to trust it. Despite it not actually being her, the voice reminded her of the soft tone her mother used to use to comfort her.

Pomni gulped, looking at the butterfly again. It was simply floating there, no threat lingering in the slightest. Maybe, just maybe. She lifted her hand, her face cringing as she turned away, shoulders stiffening in case that glitch did happen. The tiny feet of the bug landed on her finger. Nothing. No pain, no glitch, just the butterfly resting there as it waited for the jester to make her next move.

She opened her eyes, she was okay. She looked up, trying to detect where that voice came from, “Thank you.” It felt silly, sitting in the dirt as she called out for someone she couldn’t see, but sillier things have happened in this circus. She looked back at the butterfly, letting it crawl across her hand, “Sorry for getting scared earlier. You seem like a friendly guy. I’m sure Kinger would like you.”

The butterfly seemed nice, and it was gentle, but why did the one from before glitch? And why was there a voice this time telling her not to be afraid? With each passing day since she got her memories back, more questions kept opening up. She stood up, picking up her basket and placing the small bug inside, “Guess we’ll need to figure you out later. Hope you don’t mind the corn, I don’t want Caine finding you just in case anything happens.”

The butterfly didn’t seem to mind, already laying down on top one of the vegetables like it was a bed. Pomni smiled, lowering the lid and continued her trail. Now this was definitely going to be an interesting story to tell Jax. She just hoped he was okay.

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Jax grumbled as he hit another dead end. He had given up picking up corn a long while ago, settling for trying to find Pomni instead. But each path he took only seemed to lead him down the wrong way, as though the map of this adventure was mocking him. He gripped his ears, pulling slightly. “Easy adventure my @ss Caine,” he muttered under his breath. This was just getting tedious now.

He heard a rustle behind him, making him jump like the type of animal his avatar was. Perhaps it was one of the others? Or maybe Caine added a last-minute boss to try and make things more interesting – yet harder for them. But no, instead it was…him?

At least it looked like him, but much younger. He looked about he was no older than three, his hair shorter while wearing soft clothing stamped in little train patterns. What was going on.

“Come on sweetie!”

A new voice rung out. He looked up, a young couple came up behind the boy, reaching out their hands to him. “We have to start the maze!” the woman said, smiling at the child.

“Okay mama!” the young boy giggled, clutching his hand into hers as the wandered further into the maze.

Jax blinked, his feet trailing behind the trio. He felt like a dog on a leash going after them. Who were these people, why didn’t he remember this? Were they his…his parents? But they couldn’t be possible, his parents left him in social services ever since he was, well, the age the younger version of him here was. But then again, his earliest memory was him in a car going to his very first foster home, nothing before that.

Maybe, just maybe. They weren’t like anything like he pictured them to be, they seemed nice to younger him. Perhaps something else happened, perhaps he really used to be loved.

And so, he followed them. Tracing their lefts and rights, wherever they would go. They seemed like good people, laughing at their little boy’s antics and playing along with whatever imaginary game he came up with. He even felt himself smiling, a tear even escaping his eye at the long-lost image of the family in front of him.

Eventually they stopped, the couple sharing a look before starting down the young boy. Jax froze, what was going on? There was another rustle, a small rabbit jumping out of the stems of corn as it ran down the path. “Honey look!” the mother pointed with a grin. “What’s that?!”

“A bunny!” the little boy replied with excitement, jumping up and down on the spot. Jax’s stomach began to churn.

“It wants you to play tag with it,” the father said. “Don’t leave it waiting.”

“Okay!” the boy nodded, taking a few steps but pausing when he saw his parents weren’t following along. “Aren’t you playing as well?”

“We’ll meet you at the end of the maze,” his mother said, her tone loving despite the dread of this situation building more and more. “You’re a big boy now, I’m sure you can do it on your own.”

“Oh yeah, I can!” the young Jack looked so happy saying that, so unknowing of the true danger he was put in. “I’ll see you soon! Come back little bunny!”

He ran off, chasing the small rodent down the path. Jax shook his head, this couldn’t be happening. Why would they let a kid go off on his own?! What were they thinking. As the boy wandered further down the path, the smiles on the parents faces dropped, grief and tearful fear replacing it instead. The man placed a hand on the woman’s shoulder, rubbing it reassuringly to try and rid some of the guilt that was possibly building inside her.

She nodded to him, taking a deep breath before turning on her heel and walked away in the opposite direction of her son, her husband doing the same. Jax’s heart plummeted, “No, wait!” He cried out, but it only fell on the deaf ears of a forgotten memory. “Don’t do this! Come back!”

He turned in the other direction, that younger version of him was on his own, going after the rabbit in a wild goose chase, to never see his parents again. He chased after him, there was no way this could be true, there was no way.

He saw the boy in front of him, his small form contrasting again the setting sun in the distance. Though this time he wasn’t chasing a rabbit anymore. “Mama! Papa! Where are you!” he wailed, rubbing away tears on his chubby cheeks. “I wanna go home!”

Jax began to shake his head in disbelief, this couldn’t have happened. His parents, they really…left him.

His eyes darted back to where the boy was, but he was gone too, leaving him alone in the field. No parents, no younger him nothing. He was completely and utterly isolated. The rabbit from earlier suddenly jumped out in front of him again, making eye contact with the taller avatar. His nose twitched as the two maintained eye contact, Jax’s eyes blurring with panicked tears.

The rabbit tore off again, leaving him stunned in place, “W-wait! Where are you going!” He chased after it again, just like how his younger self did. “Why are you doing this?! What’s going on?!”

The rabbit didn’t make a noise, it only kept running. Jax did the same, his lungs burning and mind spinning with more questions building as tears streamed down his cheeks. Why was he remembering this now?! How did he even get these memories?! Why him?! Why was this happening to him?!

Why did his parents leave him behind?! Did they just not love him enough to keep him?! But they were crying! They had to have loved him, right? Otherwise they wouldn’t have done that! Or maybe they just couldn’t have them in their lives. He didn’t have a place with them, in the world outside or this world in this game. He was pathetic, useless, he deserved all the bad things that happened to him. HE DESERVED EVERY PAINFUL THING THAT CAME HIS WAY-

“GET OUT OF MY HEAD!” he screamed, his fingers pulling on the fur on his scalp.

He skidded to a halt, gawking at what was in front of him. His old foster house, where he grew up. It was tattered and broken, the complete opposite to how it looked way back when in appearance, but remained exactly the same with how it made him feel. He sniffed, his hands clutching at his chest as his heart squeezed painfully. There was a reason he was here, wasn’t it? To finally get his comeuppance for every bad deed he caused in his life. For how he acted to others in his past life, to how he treated the others in the circus, and how he hurt Penny.

The house creaked along with the stinging wind that made Jax shiver, as though it were whispering him to go inside. He should go inside.  He lifted his foot, about to take another step-

“Jax!”

He stopped, turning back. Pomni’s voice rung out to him in the distance, “Jax! Where are you?!”

She was looking for him.

She cared about him.

She loved him.

Jax smiled, rubbing away the access tears that stained his cheeks. Maybe there was a reason for him to hurt like this, but there was also a reason to keep fighting. Pomni. He looked back to the house, the churning feeling ebbing away slowly though not fully disappearing. Perhaps forgotten things were meant to be forgotten.

He turned on his heel, running back into the maze. He had a jester to find.

The house abandoned once and for all.

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“I’ll say it before and I’ll say it again,” said Samual. “This feels just like a movie.”

Riley rolled her eyes as the car pulled up to a corner near the building of C&A. She was fully aware of the déjà vu she was getting, but this time she had the proof in front of her and a case to fulfil. “You go in first and go to the room where the files are. Wait for five minutes then text me to come in,” she instructed to the boy. “If we’re gonna do this, we need to make sure that Jason doesn’t get suspicious.”

“He might be already,” Samual admitted. “After I brought you here, he’s been acting kinda funny.”

“Well we’ll just have to be as careful as we can,” Riley said. “Just do what I told you and come to me if anything happens, I’ve got your back.”

Samual exhaled, mentally preparing himself as he stared at the building ahead of him, “Alright, here goes nothing.”

He climbed out the car, making his way over and inside the tall building. Riley waited until her phone pinged before jumping out herself and making her way over. She did the usual routine of what she would do whenever she got a warrant - go in, check in with the receptionist and have free reign of her search. She took a mental note of how uneasy the receptionist looked when she saw the agent again, Samual was right about Jason being at edge since her last visit. His glass house didn’t seem to be as stable as he wanted it to be anymore.

She made her way to the elevator, checking her phone to see where Samual said he would be waiting for her as the doors shut behind her. As the elevator creaked and shifted as it lifted up, the looming hidden threat of this place started to dawn on the redhead. This company had possibly managed to cover up the disappearances of so many people for nine years, including its own CEO and his wife. And now Penny and Jack were in the belly of the beast as well.

She understood why Rae was so worried with messing up, one mistake could quite literally cost someone their life. Hers, Samual’s, her mother’s, anyone. She had to be careful. The elevator dinged, opening their doors as she stood out and saw Samual at an open door down the hall, signaling for her to come towards him.

Riley nodded, remaining as casual as possible until she reached the room and Samual shutting the door behind her. “Alright, where do we start?” Riley asked, clasping her hands together.

“It should be on this computer,” Samual told her. “Jason doesn’t like keeping stuff like that on his own computer in case he gets caught.”

“So he’d rather have someone else take the fall, how chivalrous,” Riley muttered sarcastically.

“Tell me about it,” Samual muttered. Riley looked over at him with amusement, this was the first time she actually heard him have a bit of an attitude. He sat down, cracking his fingers and rolling his neck as he logged onto the computer. “Okay, I can do this.” He pulled a bag onto his lap, the C&A logo on top as he pulled out a USB. “I snuck into his office the other day. And before you get on at me for doing it before getting the warrant, Jason was gone for the day and it was the only time in the security guards schedule where they weren’t watching his office the whole time.”

“Holy shit kid,” Riley laughed. She should be mad, really she should. But goddamn she couldn’t help but be impressed. “You have guts. So, where exactly are these files in the USB’s?”

“These USB’s have old games codes,” Samual replied. “Sometimes if we have any unfinished demos, we store information in them to make sure other competition don’t try and steal it, to put it in a place where no one would think to find.”

“And if the case files in the USBs, then Jason can carry them around wherever he wants,” Riley finished.

“Yup,” Samual sighed. “Okay, I think I know what to do here.”

In just little time, the kid had managed to open a whole different part on the USB, old coding and files appearing and scattering over the screen. Riley felt as though she had to take a step back from how intense it seemed, but Samual was unfazed a focused, still clicking and typing as though this were as simple as clicking a browser away.

“I got it,” Samual spoke up eventually, turning to Riley and holding his hand out. “You got the other one?”

“Uh, yeah,” Riley reached into her pocket, taking out another USB and placing it into Samual’s hands.

“If we take everything off this, Jason’s gonna get more suspicious,” Samual told her. “I can make copies for you to take back and from there we’ll try and figure a way to get it loaded into the game back at your mom’s place.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Riley agreed, watching him work as she glanced at the door every so often.

It felt as though hours went by, but eventually, Samual had done it. The files were copied and put into the other USB. They had done it. “We got it!” he exclaimed, a small cheer in the back of his tone.

“Looks like it,” Riley grinned, putting the USB back in her pocket. “I gotta get going, before your boss finds out what’s-”

The door slammed open, another feeling of déjà vu and piercing cold fear shooting down Riley and Samual’s backs. “What are you doing back here?!” Jason growled.

Riley sneered at him, crossing her arms as she stood in front of Samual. She wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice, “I have a warrant to check this place out since the files for our cases went missing. And since your name is the main one on Jack Bloom’s case, that means I have to search the place. AKA, doing my job.”

“What gives you the right to speak to me that way,? Jason sneered.

Riley scoffed, “Other than the fact that I’m trying to find people I care about, you don’t get to speak to me that way either.”

“Oh really?” Jason raised a brow. “I’m sure your boss will disagree.”

He stepped aside, revealing the disappointed face of Captain Rae, almost looking tired as she stepped into the room. Riley paled when another face appeared in the door – Winter. “Winter, Captain Rae, what’s going on?” Riley asked.

“We got a call from Mr Wood that you came here under the guise of a warrant to steal game codes for their rival companies,” Captain Rae sighed. “And since I’m your boss, I had to be taken away from work to make sure my agents aren’t fucking up.”

“Excuse me?!” Riley’s eyes widened, appalled as she started at the man beside her boss, who seemed to be getting smugger when Winter spoke up.

“One of the employees here managed to find Samual taking out property from Mr Wood’s office before calling you,” Winter told her. “They were concerned that you were using the cases in order to make C&A look bad.”

“That’s bullshit!” Riley snapped. “My sister is involved in these cases, do you really think I would risk her safety over fucking game codes?!” Riley was treading on dangerous waters, and she knew it. But no one messed with her sister, especially not some big shot who believed he could get away with this.

“And what exactly is in that computer over there?” Jason pointed out, his tone slightly mocking. Riley’s face fell as she glanced towards the monitor. While she was glad that he didn’t know about the spare USB, she knew that this looked really bad.

Samual stepped forward, “It was my idea!”

Everyone turned to him, even Jason – his face darkening.

Samual gulped as he continued, “I wanted to help Miss Riley with the case and decided to do some unethical routes in order to help her. You can even check the USB, the game codes are still there.”

Jason hummed, pushing past Riley as he, Rae and the others made their way to the computer. Riley nearly sighed with relief when the appearance of the game codes was still there. To the others, it looked like normal files that you expected to find at this company. But to Jason, it meant that his secret was still safe. He straightened his back as he turned back to the others, a faux grin on his face, “It seems that I was mistaken. I do apologize for wasting your time Captain Rae. I just wanted this whole mess taken care of, we wouldn’t want to go to court over this after all.”

“No, we wouldn’t,” Rae retorted in a monotone voice. “We’ll be on our way, thank you for your apology Mr Wood.”

The four walked out the room, Jason’s stare burning on their backs as the door was shut behind him. Rae halted, spinning back round as she went face to face with Riley, “I told you not to be stupid!”

“I wasn’t ma’am,” Riley froze, immediately reverting back to the professional position she was back when she was asking for the warrant. “I did as you told me to. Search with the warrant and try to find out what was going on. I didn’t know he was gonna pull that shit.”

“This isn’t a game Riley, Jason Wood can and will do anything he can in order to keep himself and C&A at the top!” Rae hissed. She stepped back, rubbing her temples to dispel the approaching headache. “Did you at least find anything?”

Riley opened her, mouth about to reveal what she found when clarity struck her. How exactly could she explain this without sounding crazy? She almost didn’t believe Samual when he told her about this, so how could she explain this to her captain? And the files still looked the same as they did from the computer, no other person would be able to tell the difference about how they looked unless they had the tech knowledge that Samual did. All it would show was exactly what Jason had tried to frame her about, “No, I’m sorry.”

Rae exhaled sharply, “Next time you’re gonna be reckless, think twice before landing yourself in hot water, Reed.”

Riley lowered her head to the ground, “Yes ma’am.”

Rae sighed turning back on her heel and walked away.

Winter came up behind her wife, sharing the same scowl as their boss, “We’re talking about this when we get home.” She didn’t let Riley say a word, already walking away and towards the elevator.

Riley rubbed her eyes, this was not how she wanted her day to end. Samual came up, fiddling with his ring finger awkwardly, “I’m really sorry Miss Riley.”

“It’s fine kid,” she mumbled. “You just get home and call me if you need me.”

Samual nodded, not wanting to prod any further as he walked away as well.

Riley just wanted to fade into nothing there and then. What type of hell was she getting herself into?

.

.

.

Winter tapped her foot as she waited in the living room, dressed in a pyjama tank top and shorts with her hair tied into an uneven ponytail. Riley was half an hour late. She already had a habit of obviously avoiding a situation, but this was out in the open with how hard she was trying now. Winter groaned, picking up the bottle of wine of the coffee table in front of her and poured it into a glass, she didn’t want to be sober dealing with this.

She let the liquid run down her throat, relieving some of the stress when she heard the door open. Finally.

Riley shut the door behind her, setting down her bag when she noticed Winter eyeing her down, “Where’s Percy?”

“Asleep,” Winter retorted, setting down the glass. “We need to talk.”

“Listen, I know how that looked back there,” Riley started. “But it wasn’t what you think it was.”

“Really? Riley a CEO of a billion-dollar company almost got you fired!” Winter exclaimed, setting down her glass. “What am I supposed to think?!”

“Everything I’ve been doing was to find Penny and Jack,” Riley told her. “And you really think that I would so something like that?”

“Of course not, but you’ve put me in a corner ever since Penny went missing and left me to gather dust!” Winter cried. “Now all of a sudden you’re sneaking into buildings and won’t tell me why, other than to just blindly trust you! Riley that isn’t fair! You have to tell me what’s going on!”

Riley peered behind her, grimacing at the empty wine glass on the table, “Have you been drinking on a work night.”

Winter placed her hands on her hips, refusing to back down, “I only had one glass, you know that’s all I have on work nights. And it won’t be enough for me to be distracted from this conversation.”

“I’m just thinking about Percy, okay?!” Riley groaned. “Sorry that I want to protect our son!”

“Oh please, not everyone is your father Riley,” Winter growled.

The redhead stiffened, her jaw tightening, “Back down, now.”

“No!” Winter shook her head. “You’re hiding something from me and I know it. All I want is to help you, but you act like I’m nothing but an annoyance to you. And now you’re pulling this shit and nobody will tell me why, not even you! You never keep secrets from me.” Winter’s voice broke, clutching the fabric of her tank top on her chest. “You’re hurting so much and it’s killing me seeing you like this. So why?! Why are you hiding things from me? What did I do?! Why are you allowed to protect me but I’m not allowed to do the same for you?!”

Riley wanted nothing more than to cry and bring Winter into her arms. Everything her wife said was true to a fault. She wanted to tell her about Jack, she wanted to tell her all her plans, she wanted to tell her how the grief and fear of Penny disappearing had been eating her alive for the past few months-

Percy’s cry broke her from spiral, alerting the two mothers. Riley sighed, “I’ll get him.”

Winter tried to stop her, “Riley-”

“Winter, please,” Riley’s voice was soft and desperate. “Please. I just want some silence.”

The other woman sniffed, backing away from her wife. Guilt churned in Riley’s stomach as she watched her wife face away, hearing her light sobs. This was for the best, at least she’s safe. With that, she went up the stairs to her crying baby.

Winter curled up on the sofa. Never before had she wished for her brother as she did now.

.

.

.

Jax gasped as the maze disappeared. He was still chasing after Pomni’s voice, but apparently Caine had announced that Gangle was the winner and brought them all back. He nearly fell to his knees when he saw the jester, she was okay.

“Well that adventure was certainly…an adventure!” Caine boomed. “I don’t fully understand your silly human activities, but tomorrow we’ll return to our regular schedule of fun, fun, FUN!”

“Yeah, yeah, great,” Jax said absentmindedly, his eyes still on Pomni as the jester looked at him, relief in her eyes as well.

“Good to hear your positive spirit Jax!” Caine grinned, about to lift his hand and pat him on the back when the rabbit flinched, arms arched over his head to protect himself.

Everyone gaped at that, Jax never flinched. Pomni brought her hands to her mouth, she knew what that meant.

“I, um. Jax, are you alright?” Caine asked, his tone much softer than it usually was.

Jax blinked, everyone was staring at him. He lowered his arms back to his sides, “I’m fine.”

Pomni bit her lip, he was anything but fine.

Even Caine was surprised by the rabbit’s actions, “Uh…right. Anyways I’m gonna…yeah I’ll just go.” The AI floated away, leaving the group in their stunned silence.

Jax ignored them, rushing to Pomni and dropped to the ground, wrapping her tight in his arms. He was shaking like a leaf, whatever he had seen in that corn maze had left its mark on him. She uncurled herself out of his embrace, holding his face in her hands as she lightly stroked his cheek. “Come on,” she held out her hand.

He hesitated for a moment, before his fingers intertwined with hers. She pulled him up, picking up both of their forgotten backets as she led him back to her room. The others were still staring, but she didn’t care. Right now, Jax needed her.

She shut the door behind her, letting him get comfy on her bed as she put the baskets back down and joined him on the red and blue mattress. “What happened?” it was only one question, but he could hear so much behind it. I’m here for you, tell me anything and everything, you’re safe.

“I-I think I saw myself in that maze?” he said. “Well, myself but younger, much younger. And my birth parents were there. I know, its stupid and stuff like this happens sometimes but…why do I remember this now? I thought I was okay with my past. Now seeing them, it only what makes what my foster family did to me even worse.”

Pomni was silent, taking in every part of what he said, “Show me where it hurts?”

He peered up at her, it had been a while since she said that to him. But both of them knew that what she did next helped more than he could imagine. He raised his arm, the same one that his foster father used to burn his cigarettes on. She held it gently in her hands, pressing gentle kisses to the appendage.

Tears trailed down the dried stain on his cheeks, his arm trembling slightly. She was so careful with him, giving him the kindness that the adults who failed him could never give him. “I know this isn’t much,” she mumbled against his fur. “But I love you more than anything. Those people never deserved you. I wish I could erase all the pain they caused you. All I hope than when I do this.” She pressed a kiss to his wrist. “You know that I’ll be with you despite everything.”

His breath staggered for a bit, it was so long since he felt the overwhelming feeling of being genuinely wanted by someone. His hands cupped her cheeks, pulling her closer and pressed her lips to his. The kiss was messy, frantic but neither of them could pull away, they needed each other.

They parted when the need for air was too strong, with Jax holding her close so Pomni could hear his heartbeat. His head was still swarming, spinning. But her simple touch was all he wanted to think about. All that he needed. The bad stuff wouldn’t go away. However for now, this was enough.

“There’s one more thing I need to tell you,” Pomni mumbled.

Jax pushed off her hat, pressing his nose to her hair as he hummed, “And what’s that?”

“Well,” she separated from him again, the rabbit already missing her warmth as she picked up her basket from the maze. Lifting the lid, she picked up the little butterfly as she cupped it in her hands. “I found this little guy during the adventure. But the way I found him? You’re gonna want to sit back for this…have invisible people ever spoke to you in this place before?”

.

.

.

Fairy lights were strung up, an old tape recorder and radio were placed together on the coffee table, and a walkie talkie was held in Amber’s hands. Hooked into the recorder and radio was a large wire leading to the computer. Amber clenched her fists, it was now or never.

She turned on the walkie talkie, “Penny? Are you there?”

[finnsbubblegum]

Becoming Mrs. Miller {Part 6} (Joel Miller x Reader)

Pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

Warnings: fluff, domestic joel, pregnant wife reader (lmk if i missed any)

Words count: 1.7k

A/N: Hi! This is part 6 for Becoming Mrs. Miller. But it can also be read as a standalone. There will be one or two more parts for this story. The scenes are mostly from TLOU Ep 1 with additions and some changes from my story. Hope you like it! 

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

September 25

You tried to sleep but you couldn’t. You moved to your side and another but you still felt uncomfortable. You were around 22 weeks pregnant now and your belly was starting to protrude. 

“Joel, baby..” You shook Joel gently trying to wake him up.

“Hmm? What’s wrong, baby?” Joel answered you with a sluggish voice.

“I can’t sleep.” You moved closer to him.

“C’mere.” His arms reached you and pulled you to his chest.

“Tomorrow’s your birthday and I haven’t got you any presents. Do you have something you want?”

“Nothin’, baby. Just want you and our baby healthy.” He was half asleep.

“Okay.” 

September 26 - Morning

“Sarah, sweetie, can you wake your dad up, please?” You asked Sarah while cooking breakfast.

“Dad! Alarm! Wake up!” Sarah knocked on the door.

“Morning, birthday boy.” You looked over to your shoulder while Joel walked down the stairs as he buttoned his pants. 

“Morning, baby.” He gave you a kiss and rubbed your protruding belly.

“Happy birthday, Joel.” You cupped his cheeks.

“Happy birthday, dad.” Sarah poured a glass of orange juice into three glasses and put them on the dining table.

“Thank you, babygirl.” Joel kissed Sarah’s head and poured himself a cup of coffee.

“I was gonna make birthday pancakes for you but I forgot to buy them. Pregnancy brain.” You scoffed as you put the plates of eggs and bacon on the table.

“You know I don’t really like pancakes.” Joel ate his breakfast.

“I know you don’t like them.” You smirked to Sarah.

“Yeah, it was for my benefit.” Sarah added.

“Dad, vitamin C.” Sarah pushed a glass of orange juice to Joel.

Joel rolled his eyes and drank his juice. You laughed at Sarah's controlling behavior. 

“You get your, uh, homework done? Fractions?” Joel tried to make a conversation with his daughter.

Sarah shrugged and chuckled.

“How old are you again?” Sarah asked.

“36.” Joel chewed his bacon.

“Gonna have to wear diapers soon.” Sarah joked.

“Who says he doesn’t already?” You teased Joel.

He gave you a side eye and took something from his mouth.

“Shell.”

“Oh my God. I’m sorry.” You covered your face in embarrassment.

“Calcium.” Sarah’s answer made you feel better.

“Thanks, Sarah.” You chuckled.

“I got you, mom.” Sarah pointed at you.

“You two really are gangin’ up on me. Please let it be a boy.” Joel extended his arms to rub your belly.

“No! I want a sister!” Sarah insisted.

You and Joel laughed.

“Is there enough for Tommy?” Joel asked.

“I can make another plate.” You stood up but Joel stopped you.

“No, no. Eat your breakfast. He can grab somethin’ on the road.”

The three of you looked to the door as you heard someone was coming in.

“Ay! You’re still alive, you old fucker.” Tommy came in and patted Joel on the back.

Tommy made his way to the kitchen and looked around.

“I thought we was havin’ pancakes.”

“Sorry, Tommy.” You apologized for your mommy brain.

“We’ll pick you somethin’ up on the road. Concrete guys gonna be there?” 

“Yeah, they said maybe.” Tommy opened the fridge to find something he could eat.

“Maybe? We can’t frame until we pour. We’re not gettin’ paid until we frame.”

“Well, we could bring someone else on, get the job done faster.”

“No, no. I’m not splittin’ this job. I barely wanna split it with you. We could work a double.” Joel insisted.

“Literally? Today?” Sarah was getting upset.

“Joel..” You were upset too but you couldn't stop him from working hard because with the baby coming, you would need more money for the living expenses.

“I know. I’d be done by nine. By nine, right?” He tried to get assurance from Tommy.

“Yeah.” Tommy shrugged.

“I’ll bring back a cake. I promise.” Joel promised.

*On the radio*… continued disturbances in Jakarta, but are advising U.S. citizens…

“Jakarta. Where is that, Middle East?” Joel asked.

“Doesn’t ring a bell. It’s definitely a country.” Tommy was also not sure.

“Or maybe part of Asia?” You added.

“Jakarta isn’t a country. Being a part of Asia isn’t mutually exclusive with being a country, and in fact, it’s the capital of Indonesia.” Sarah proudly answered.

“Shit. Hope for us yet.” Tommy drank his coffee.

“Language.” You glared at Tommy and he chuckled.

“Finish up quick, your mom has an appointment at the hospital. We’ll drop you off. You got seven minutes.”

You got up and put the dishes in the sink.

“Your T-shirt’s inside out.” Sarah finished her last bite.

“Shit.” Joel rolled his eyes.

“Joel, language.” You gave him the evil eye. You didn’t want your baby to hear curse words even before it was born so you always got sensitive when anyone cursed.

“He’s losin’ it.” Tommy shook his head.

You walked them out and stood behind the car as Joel moved his stuff to the truck.

“Hey, baby. I’m sorry I can’t go with you today. Call me if you need anythin’ alright?” He kissed your forehead and rubbed the sides of your belly.

“Okay.” You nodded and smiled.

“I’ll see you tonight.” He walked to open the door for Sarah.

“See you, mom.” You kissed Sarah’s cheek.

You continued your morning routine and got ready to the hospital. You were excited because it was the day to know the baby’s gender. After you got everything ready and finished all the housework, you got into your car and drove to the hospital.

“Congratulations! It’s a boy!” The doctor pointed at the monitor showing you your baby’s genitals.

“A boy? My husband wants a boy.” You cried in happiness.

“Well, I guess God answered his prayers.” 

You couldn’t believe you were having a boy. You talked with Joel and the two of you had been wanting a boy. You were so excited and decided to go shopping for baby products at the mall. You bought some blue baby clothes, socks, and other things. Then an idea came to your mind. 

“I haven’t bought anything for my husband’s birthday. Maybe this is his birthday present.” You thought to yourself.

So you decided to buy a gift box and put the blue baby shoes inside it. You were going to give him this as a birthday present.

September 26 - Night

You and Sarah watch TV in the living room waiting for Joel to come home. It was 10 pm and he hadn’t come home. You were getting sleepy but you forced your eyes open until you heard the sound of keys jingling.

“You locked the door for once. Good job.” Joel was finally home.

“Yeah, I guess the mommy brain is working today.” Your drowsiness was suddenly gone.

“You’re home.” Sarah turned the TV off.

Joel groaned and sat beside you on the sofa. He rubbed his eyes. He looked really tired and you felt really bad towards him. You didn’t like seeing him tired and working too hard to make ends meet for you and your family. But you couldn’t do anything. You had offered him to help but he didn’t want you to work. He knew how hard it was being pregnant so he didn’t want you to suffer more. 

“It’s 10.” Sarah sounded disappointed.

“I know. They gave us the wrong size of the headers. That doesn’t mean anything to ya. I’m sorry.” Joel apologized.

“Where’s the cake?” Sarah had been looking forward to celebrating her dad’s birthday.

“Shit.” Joel forgot to buy the birthday cake.

“Joel.” You glared at him as you put your hand on your belly protectively.

“Sorry, baby. Daddy didn’t mean that.” He rubbed your belly and talked to the baby.

“I’ll get us one tomorrow.” Joel promised Sarah again.

“Swear, or you don’t get your present.” 

“You got your dad a present?” You raised your eyebrows.

“You got me a present?” Joel was surprised too.

“Swear.” Sarah repeated.

“On my life.” Joel swore.

“Wow.” Sarah gave Joel a box with his fixed watch inside.

“Fixed it for you.” 

“Did you?” Joel raised his watch near his ear to check. 

“What?”

“I don’t hear anything.” His face was confused. Then he laughed.

“That was lame.” You laughed and slapped Joel at his joke.

“You’re lame.” Joel got Sarah for a second.

“Yeah, I know.” Joel laughed at his own joke.

Then the three of you watched the DVD that Sarah borrowed from the Adlers, your neighbor. Joel put his arms around you and you leaned on him. Sarah didn’t want to be left out so she leaned on you and you put your arms around her. Sarah promised not to fall asleep but she fell asleep not long after the movie started.

“Sarah’s asleep.” You told Joel.

“I’ll put her to bed.” Joel carried Sarah to her bedroom and tucked her in. 

He kissed her forehead and went downstairs to find you massaging your legs.

“You okay?” Joel looked concerned.

“Hmm.” You kept massaging your calves.

Since you got pregnant, you often felt pain on your legs but today the pain was worse. You thought it might be because you spent a lot of time walking at the mall shopping for baby products. 

He sat beside you and took your legs to his lap to massage them. 

“Think I walked too much today. It hurts.” You rubbed his upper arm.

“Don’t force yourself too much, baby. Anyway, what did the doctor say? Everythin’ great?” He asked.

“About that.. I got you a present too.” You took out the box and gave it to him.

“Really? I told you, you don't have to get me anythin’.”

“Come on. Here.” You gave Joel a navy blue box tied with sky blue ribbon on top of it.

“Open it.” Your heart was beating faster.

“Thank you.” Joel kissed you and opened the box.

“Baby socks?” He looked confused for a moment. Then he realized something.

“Wait. It's blue. We’re having a boy?” His face lightened up.

You nodded and opened your arms for him. He hugged you tightly and kissed your temple.

“Hey peanut, it’s daddy. You’re daddy’s best birthday gift ever. Can’t wait to meet you. Be good to your mama, okay?” Joel came closer to your belly and talked to his baby boy. 

“Oh!” You gasped.

“What’s wrong?” Joel got worried.

“He kicked.” You giggled.

“You can’t wait to meet daddy too, don’t you?” Joel chuckled and rubbed your belly where the baby kicked. 

To be continued... Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Taglist:

@moonlightdivine

@happinessinthebeing

@nyotamalfoy

[ginmoonnet]

♡ Between Bitter Tea and Sweet Milkshake┇🫖🍓

[Wanderer AU] 🐈‍⬛🤍❕

Previous | List

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳Ep. 2 ‘Relatives’

It was finally your day off! Congratulations, you should be happy, shouldn't you? Oh! It's true, you have nothing to do.

You didn't feel like starting or resuming any hobby, you weren't planning to do anything productive and your 'friends' didn't want to go out with you (because they did have important things to do...).

Sunday, today was a boring and insipid Sunday. You had just returned to school after vacation, in which you covered both shifts in the cafeteria, you didn't work every day and they paid you more so it was a win win, however you got so used to that routine that now your life felt meaningless. (you exaggerate).

You had been lying in your bed since...well, since you opened your eyes? Ha…today was an ordinary day, TOO ordinary. The bed seemed to have turned into stone, your cell phone bored you just by looking at it from afar and the entertainment channels didn't even entertain you.

While you complained in your extremely overacted suffering your stomach growled, it had not touched food since last night and it was agonizing. You grumbled; You didn't feel like cooking, you doubted there was even anything decent in the fridge, you didn't want to wait for a delivery man for 30 minutes, "maybe starving wouldn't be so bad," you thought, however, almost like a divine sign an idea came to your mind.

The Tatarasuna store was a kind of independent convenience store. It was two or three blocks from your condo complex, there were more stores around of course, but at the Tatarasuna store the service was nicer. It was a family store so the atmosphere there was warmer, whoever was serving was always kind to you, sometimes you would just go to chat under the pretext of buying something...as you probably would now.

You knew all the people in charge of that store very well and although you felt affection towards everyone, it could be said that you had your favorites. As soon as you opened the door, the bell above it jingled, making whoever was arranging some things on one of the shelves turn towards you.

—With that hair and seeing you from behind, I could swear it was your grandfather…if you weren't so short—.

The boy in front of you chuckled.

—Hello to you too, Y/N—.

What you had said was a joke, you could bet that you would recognize that white hair, that reddish strand that matched his eyes, the same hairstyle as always and that calming aura that surrounded him from miles away.

You just watched him as he approached you, when he was in front of you, he placed his hand on your head and smiled. It's getting hot right? Yes…it shows on your face.

—Hey Kaz—.

—Hmm?—.

—What temperature are we at?—.

The white-haired man looked at his cell phone screen for a few seconds and then answered.

—Uhmm 15° Celsius, why?—.

—I think I'm sick—.

You said as you squeezed your cheeks together. Kazuha saw you and put his hand on your forehead.

—Yes…your face is boiling—.

—Do you think some tea will make me feel better? I think so, where is the tea?—.

You said as you walked around the store, looking towards the shelf where the teas were supposed to be.

—About that…We don’t have—.

—But yesterday there was—.

—Haha yes, but there’s no more—.

He said, that despite saying it with a giggle, it seemed that just remembering the mysterious event gave a glimpse of a gloomy expression on his face, which made you laugh, but since you are an incredible person and a wonderful friend, you decided to take it seriously.

—…What happened? Did someone came to rob?—.

—Something like that…—.

Suddenly, the door to the store opened somewhat abruptly, revealing the most unfriendly individual you have ever had the misfortune of meeting, carrying in his arms an exaggerated (truly exaggerated) number of boxes of different types of tea. already open.

The faces of the three showed displeasure. You for running into your (somewhat) annoying coworker. Kazuha because the person who had arrived in question was the tea thief, and the blue-haired boy... well.

—I tried all Kazuha, all of them! And do you know what I discovered?—.

—That you are inconsiderate?—.

—No, aside—.

Kazuha sighed heavily, while you just watched with your arms crossed, the bluenette had not even noticed your presence.

—They're all rubbish! I mean how hard is it to make good tea? But what can I expect from this if the poor quality can be seen from the packaging…—.

The boy seemed to be able to continue babbling non-stop, fortunately, Kazuha stopped him.

—Sigh…Scara, if you haven't noticed, I have clients who didn't get what they needed because of you—.

—Ok, so?—.

—You are unbelievable—.

—Ha, thanks—.

—It wasn't a compliment—.

—Ok, fuck you—.

Kazuha took the tea boxes from his hands and walked with them towards the counter so you followed him, however a voice stopped you.

—And who are you?—.

WHAT? Did he not recognize you?!. You looked at him in disbelief. Normally you are a fairly mature person, very aware of your emotions, however sometimes you had to take a deep breath and say:

—What do you care?—.

Scara snorted and rolled his eyes, but as if he had mercy on you, he didn't say anything else and just stared at you and Kazuha while leaning against the door frame.

—What are you going to do with the tea boxes?—

—Hmm, they're basically full but I can't sell them because they're already open...I'll probably keep them here for when I want to have a something to drink—.

—Can I take one?—

—Huh? Are you sure?—.

—Yeah, do you have jasmine tea?—.

—Hmm, I think so, wait—.

While Kazuha was looking through the boxes for the one you wanted, you couldn't help but side-eye at the boy who was watching the both of you with amusement.

—And where do you know him from?—.

You whispered to your friend.

—Hmm? Who, Scara?—.

He whispered back to what you nodded.

—Ahh…he's my cousin or something—.

—What?!-.

—I found it! Jasmine tea, here—.

He held out the box to you, which you grabbed automatically since you were too shocked to think about what you had just heard.

—Your cousin? Where did you get him from or what?—.

You had known Kazuha since childhood, he has been your best friend since…well forever?, you spent too much time together so it was strange that you didn't know someone from his family.

—Why are y’all whispering so much? You’re talking about me, right?—.

Scara watched them with a raised brow and his arms crossed. Although his appearance could look intimidating, he actually said it in a calm and somewhat mocking manner.

—I'll explain it to you at school—.

Kazuha said, handing you the box and saying goodbye to you. Kicking people out seemed to run in the family.

You didn't protest and went home instead, you didn't feel bad or anything anymore. So you really took the tea for nothing, but since they didn't charge you for it you weren't complaining.

When you got home, you made yourself some tea and fell into bed, still thinking.

—…His cousin, ugh, out of all people?!—.

That's it, end of the chapter teehee :P

Fun fact: Kazuha and Y/N had been friends since they were 7 y/o. They passed most of their time on the playground or watching cartoons in Kazuha’s house. Their favorite show was Pucca.

List

A/N:

-This took just two nights to be written but it took me like A WEEK to think in something interesting to write on it lol

-Starting for now I’ll add fun facts about the characters and their relationships at the end of each chapter so y’all can know them better >///<

—Moonヽ(^‥^=ゞ). ミ★

[hoppipolla]

"Cha Yeo Woon's life and my lousy life can find happiness too."

I was wrong. Tae Myung Ha’s behaviour didn’t change after learning that him failing his mission, that him failing to make Cha Yeo Woon happy, would cost his life. What does it mean really? What does his mission truly entail? Making sure his presence brings Yeo Woon happiness? And what about when he’s no longer around? How will Yeo Woon feel? What happens to him when he’s no longer there? What does it mean to make Yeo Woon happy if his happiness is as ephemeral as his presence in the same world as him?

Myung Ha is aware that the clock is ticking. Not just because of the time reminder that unexpectedly appears in front of him, he knows he was given a mission in this game in which he knows the main character more than himself.

Although the lines are becoming blurry between the real and the virtual world (him wondering who that “senior” is in ep 4 when he rereads his notes in his notebook hints at this blur) he remains aware of the short time frame he has to make that happiness – that vague idea as his senior describes it – real for Yeo Woon. But you know what? It’s never been about Yeo Woon’s happiness. Not really. As early as episode 1, Myung Ha makes a parallel between his life and Yeo Woon’s, saying that people who have led miserable lives can become happy. Myung Ha refuses to be defined by the life he has led until now. It kills him to know that his senior thinks someone like Yeo Woon is doomed to live a miserable life. That’s why one of the first things he does when his world collides with his is to look for the boundaries Yeo Woo has(n’t?) defined for his happiness: when did he ever feel remotely happy (“Cha Yeo Woon, have you really never felt happy while you run? Never. Really? You can be… dumb sometimes.” (ep 2)), Does he want to eat an ice cream? Does he want new shoes? What are you looking for Cha Yeo Woon? What makes you get up in the morning when the sun rays gently hit your face? How long have you been this lonely? How cold do you feel inside? Why do you feel like you don’t deserve my kindness? Why does your voice break when you talk about yourself? Why do I feel like your eyes hide a pain whose depths I can’t fathom? Why do you hate yourself the most? Why does it bother you when I hang out with Sang Won? You said I didn’t know anything, then tell me, what am I missing?

If happiness was something Myung Ha could give to Yeo Woon, he would give it to him, in an instant. But happiness is not something you can give to someone. It’s something you invite in and let the other decide if he’s willing to let it come in. But how can Myung Ha teach Yeo Woon to welcome happiness when he has never been able to do so himself?

Tae Myung Ha is the kind of person who forgets himself when he cares for someone. Although he knows his penalty is death, although the debuffs affect him physically, he brushes it off easily. Because his senior has given him the power to make his favourite person happy. However, it scares him to have such a power because it means that, ultimately, Yeo Woon’s happiness will rely on his presence by his side. When Kyung Hoon mentions how they’ll be drinking together in their twenties, Myung Ha is startled: what do you mean I’ll be part of your future? I mean, can I? Will I? This realisation shocks him. What do you do when you’re supposed to be the key to a locked door only for the door to change lock as soon as you open it? What is he supposed to do? Isn’t it cruel? Make Yeo Woon happy only to leave him behind? This matter of time frame is exactly why he easily shakes off the idea of dating him in ep 1 because he is convinced he won’t have time for it to happen. A relationship builds itself with time and time is what he doesn’t have, not really anyway.

I like how time is depicted in this drama, how it perfectly encapsulates how incomprehensible its cogs work. Myung Ha has only been around for less than two weeks and yet he’s already had a huge impact on the people around him: he became Kyung Hoon’s friend, Sang Won’s new obsession, Si A’s helper/part-timer, and Yeo Woon’s light. Everything is happening so fast and yet it all makes sense. It doesn’t feel rushed at all because it’s Myung Ha. Because he’s the kind of person you grow attached to quickly. Because once he enters your life, he rents a piece of your heart for an indefinite amount of time. His presence feels warm and his warmth feels so normal that you let it sink in, thinking it’ll forever be there to melt your inner winters.

I can’t wait to see how Yeo Woon will return his warmth, how he’ll make Myung Ha happy without him realising. I know the heartbreak will come but for now, I’m expecting some more sunny spells.

[silviakundera]

started kdrama Love Song For Illusion because I know too much about the webtoon. Under no circumstances is it a work of art but it's wild as all hell and that's fun. If you felt a certain thrill at Perfect Marriage Revenge careening through deranged plot, top down with a breeze in its hair, then boy do I have another jewel 4 you.

The Absolute Worst Guy takes over the country, murders FL's entire mansion, and his son does not enjoy any of it, especially since he would prefer to stay home and make dresses. Then the kid gets possessed. 10 years later, the king is infamous as a tyrant & big orgy fan, the crown prince is still sanity impaired, and FL is all grown up and ready for her revenge quest.

At first consideration, oh I do enjoy a male love interest who's sensitive, repelled by violence, and just wants to be left alone to design & sew women's clothing. But then at the end of the day I prefer proactive, action-oriented characters. I met the dark spirit possessed version and said YES. THAT ONE. ❤

It's absolutely, shamelessly gonzo. And the king is chewing scenery and giving it his all, just like evil step mommy on Perfect Marriage Revenge.

But the one drawback is that I'm only starting ep 3 and I'm already losing my patience that FL doesn't know the crown prince has 2 separate personalities. I'm not saying she should jump to assuming possession. But she should be guessing secret twin or split personality "madness" pretty soon. It's just too obvious that he acts like 2 different people who don't share memories. This is gonna really get on my nerves. Please figure out that it's not just a prince being moody. 🙏 I would definitely jump to "secret royal twin' if I were her.

[puppy-phum]

not technically just bl, but top 5 gmmtv couples of the year 👯‍♂️

i know you said this was not restricted to BLs but that's what i went with anyway :'D also, i decided to pick CPs instead of on-screen couples bc i wasn't sure which one you meant here. i hope you're not disappointed!

-

My Top 5 GMMTV Couples of 2023

I. JimmySea (Jimmy Jitaraphol & Sea Tawinan)

ppl would probably be concerned if i didn't answer jimmy and sea. i've been here with them for over 1,5 years now and my love for them hasn't diminished at all. there's just something so comforting and genuine about them. their presence and their performances (on stage and on-screen) feel like a hug to me. i loved puentalay to bits, i am currently head over heels in love with morkday, and i keep hoping this isn't the end. gmmtv2024 part 2 will give us a new series with them bc they cannot just throw aside the depths these two have found for their relationship ♥

II. ForceBook (Force Jiratchapong & Book Kasidet)

witnessing their glorious comeback this year made me so happy. after an unjustified onslaught of hate and a long stay in gmm's basement, their chance to shine again was well overdue. enchanté and akktheo convinced me of their extraordinary chemistry, and this year forcebook truly outdid themselves in both of their series. guncher in a boss and a babe became very dear to me, and topmew showed sides of them i didn't know even existed. they've grown so much, and i hope the upcoming year only brings them more opportunities that let them shine even brighter ♥

III. OffGun (Off Jumpol & Gun Atthaphan)

probably my oldest bl actor cp. i first got to know them after theory of love where i absolutely adored khaithird. i know the majority (?) hated that show but i loved it to bits. i watched puppy honey soon after to see more of them, but never really felt too strongly about pickrome. i went around the internet to learn a bit about them as actors and people for a while but they never really stuck with me then. and then not me and seanwhite happened. offgun took over my heart again and i was truly sad when i thought not me would be their last bl. but then they announced cooking crush! and now we get the trainee too! and i just think my love for them will never end; they've been here with me through it all, in one way or another ♥

IV. PondPhuwin (Pond Naravit & Phuwin Tangsakyuen)

during the surge of bl in my life that begun with bad buddy (and maybe not me too), i binged a ton of other/older gmmtv (bl) series. fish upon the sky was one of them, and even if i never quite liked that series, i loved the chemistry between pond and phuwin. i've actually known phuwin since his acting debut under gmm (when he was a true baby) and was curious to see him with a new face. i was even more excited when i realized they would be getting a new chance with never let me go as palmnueng would introduce a very different type of setting for them. now they're very dear to me as i also came to know pond and especially phuwin as people ♥

V. MarcPawin (Marc Natarit & Pawin Thanik)

the black sheep of my 2023 that i never saw coming. honestly, i wasn't a big fan of my gear and your gown, and so i thought i was not hooked on these two. then they got their glorious comeback during the nlmg our skyy 2 eps and a whole ass tsunami were put in motion in my brain. the wave hit shore when they started getting side couple vibes in dangerous romance and finally got to kiss again. and now we have we are where these two are about to be one of the couples (still not sure if they're main or not). am obsessed. i love this comeback for them. i hope this carries them further than ittpai ever did ♥

Bonus: Mark Pakin + Everyone

i think my school president and his role as tiw started the rise of one mark pakin. after that, the year 2023 has truly been His Year. he's gone from tiw and being paired with ford to appearing as saleng in moonlight chicken where he was paired with view to then appearing again as tiw who was even more prominently with por (ford) to getting paired with neo in only friends as nick and now ending his year as night in last twilight where we've seen the first hints of him being paired with namtan. boy keeps changing partners like socks and it's absolutely brilliant bc he has chemistry with everybody. he's even teased new upcoming projects with a new partner (ohm thi?) and keeps saying he's truly fine with any partner and anyone we'd like to ship him with. an icon. a legend. i love him a lot.

-

thank you for sending this question to me jess! i hope this was anything like what you wanted to see ^^ i made some tough decisions here bc i also had several other couples/ppl i would've liked to point out after this year.

[nalyra-dreaming]

I know S1 was split because of covid and stuff and it resulted in book 1 getting 2 seasons and 15 episodes. and honestly, i dont think that was to many eps, with good writing it turned out it gave the books time to have enough pace to develop stories and characters perfectly I never felt any filler. so going forward I am actually little worried. because I assume not every next book will get 2 seasons even tho VL is longer for example. I worry VL will be rushed if it's only one season :(

But than again it's not like they have to cover 13 books in 13 seasons. I feel like VL and QOTD is the only that need full longer seasons coverage. TOTBT doesn't need separate season and can be incorporated somewhere. Armand's and Marius books are flashbacks that can be incorporated with other stuff throughout seasons. Memnoch is a trip but certainly not material enough of plot for a season of anything. Blackwood Farm and Blood Canticle can't be ignored lol. Merrick can be incorporated in other stuff too. My point is most later books dont exactly need to be contained individual seasons and contained stories like first book was. that only leaves newest trilogy. so I dont know how they plan to do it.. but I feel like they could/should give Vampire Lestat 2 seasons. than have maybe 3 more seasons for everything else... because modern day plots are not that big it's mostly about flashbacks or tones of POVs

(I think you meant to say Blackwood Farm and Blood Canticle can be ignored? Because then, yes^^)

I think Rolin will not be rushed, but I do think both TVL and QotD will get a "whole" arc - hopefully a longer season - and TtotBT might be combined with some elements of Memnoch and TVA.

I think the danger of Amel has already been hinted at and will be threaded through Akasha's arc already, and then the last big arc (and enemy) in the last books will be a big, overarching arc. Possibly spanning several seasons.

At least that is what I think might happen :) We'll see.

Rolin said the memory aspects and POVs would be done soon, and that makes sense, though some flashbacks or tales will definitely still be part of it.

Still, I am very much looking forward to the show moving "into reality" :)))

I cannot wait for it to be rooted in our world .... after all we saw the first tendrils with "Long Face".

I expect a loooooot more than that :)))