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dottielovegood · 3 years

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ASMR - Chapter 4

Elriel fanfiction

About this fic:

Azriel can’t sleep Elain has an ASMR channel Match made in heaven (or you know, on youtube..)

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You can find chapter 1 here, chapter 2 here and chapter 3 here

Read this fic on AO3

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The following week, Azriel read Elain’s messages too many times to admit. He had answered her that “meat banjo” was, indeed, a vile word, and after that, they hadn’t really talked or texted.

He had saved her number as “Elain”, which had felt weirdly private. As if they were friends, which they were not. He was just her friendly helper, and she was his remedy for nightmares.

However, even though they didn’t know each other, Azriel felt an odd sensation in his chest when he thought about her. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought that he was missing her, which was absurd. But the tight little knot in his chest felt very much like longing. He tried to tell himself that this was weird and stupid. He knew that he had a crush on her (even though he hated to admit it), but he could also see that it was a pointless crush. She was an internet sensation, he was a boring IT guy. She was light and happiness and flowers, he was dark and brooding. She made people smile, he made people uncomfortable. And then there was the practical side of things. They had met on the internet. She probably lived on the other side of the country. Hell, she could even live in a different country for all he knew. She might have a partner already - it’s not like he asked. And, last but not least, she probably didn’t have a crush on him.

Before talking to her on the phone, he had just thought that she was a pretty girl that deserved kindness. But after their phone call, he had definitely developed a crush. Which was another reason why he hadn’t texted her. He didn’t want to bother her and he didn’t want to have this crush. He wanted to stop feeling like this for a girl he would never see in real life. Yet, every night before bed, he found himself on her youtube page, watching one of her many videos.

She uploaded a new video to Youtube every Friday, so when Friday came around, Azriel was itching to get home so he could go to sleep (he told himself that he was looking forward to sleeping and not to seeing her face).

However, he had an entire workday to get through first. The office was mostly an open landscape and Azriel’s desk was next to Cassian’s. The only person with his own office was Rhysand, which was fair since he was the owner of the company. At two in the afternoon, Rhys poked his head out of his office.

“You guys are still coming for dinner this weekend, right?”

“Yeah,” Azriel and Cassian answered in unison.

“I told Feyre that I would help her with the food,” Azriel continued.

Rhys looked like he was going to kiss Azriel. “Oh, god. Thank you, man. I was scared that we would have to repeat the Christmas dinner,” he said and shuddered.

Feyre hated to cook and Rhys did most of the cooking at home, but for some inexplicable reason, she always wanted to cook for holidays or family dinners. To everyone’s dismay. Christmas had been no exception. She had burned the turkey, added salt instead of sugar to the dessert and somehow managed to buy the wrong berries for her cranberry sauce. Luckily, Rhys had been prepared and bought a few frozen pizzas and some ice cream, so the day wasn’t that much of a disaster, but nobody wanted to brave Feyre’s cooking again.

“Why don’t you just cook?” Cassian asked without looking up from his screen.

“You know that she kicks me out if I so much as go near the kitchen when we have these family dinners. And since she started the hormone treatment, she has been a bit bitchy when she gets mad, so I’ll just do whatever she says.”

Azriel chuckled. He could tell from Rhysand’s tone that Feyre had been more than “a bit” bitchy.

“I don’t understand why she lets Azriel help, though…”

“Maybe because she knows that I’ll tell her to sit down with a glass of wine and a magazine, and then she can take all of the credit for the food?”

“Fair enough.” Rhys shrugged. “Just burn the food a little bit, or it won’t be believable.”

Cassian snorted. “No one would believe that something edible was made by your wife. Sorry.”

“She does make a great green smoothie, though,” Rhys grinned and held up his glass.

Azriel and Cassian looked at each other and had to bite their tongues to keep from laughing. The smoothie looked vile and smelled even worse.

After a few more minutes of small talk, Rhys went back to his office for an important phone call. “See you on Saturday,” he reminded them before closing the door.

Azriel and Cassian worked in silence for the remainder of the day.

When Azriel came home that evening, he made a quick pasta carbonara to eat in front of the TV. He was re-watching New Girl. It was his comfort show and absolutely nobody knew that he watched it (and had watched it multiple times). He would take that information with him to the grave. But it was fun and cute and sometimes he liked to imagine his friends as characters in the show. Cassian was probably Schmidt, because Nesta was one hundred percent Cece. Feyre was Jess, which meant that Rhys was Nick. And then there was Azriel. He wanted to say that he was a very cool character, but most characters on this show weren’t cool, and also, he was definitely Winston. Alone with a cat - sounds about right , Azriel thought to himself as he finished his bowl of pasta.

When the episode ended he just waited for the next to start. He didn’t have any plans for the night and nowhere to be. His phone vibrated where he had left it on the kitchen counter. He ignored it, feeling too lazy to get up. But then it vibrated again. With a sigh, he got up. He expected to see a text from Mor telling him to bring wine tomorrow, or maybe a strange meme from Cassian. What he didn’t expect was to see Elain’s name on his screen.

He could feel his heart in his throat as he read her messages.

Elain Hey, Shadowsinger. I’m uploading a new video soon. You should watch it!

Elain I hope that message didn’t sound creepy? I just meant that I think you might like it.

Azriel’s hands were sweaty.

Azriel You didn’t sound creepy at all. Of course, I’ll watch your video. May I ask what I can expect from it?

Just seconds later, Elain answered.

Elain You can ask, but I might not tell ;)

Azriel Should I be worried?

Elain Haha, no! I think it turned out great. You were my inspiration :)

Azriel could feel himself blush. He had never been someone’s inspiration before.

Azriel So, I’m your muse? ;)

Oh god, was that too flirty? Was the winky-face too much? He wished that he could take back the message.

Elain For tonight, yes!

Azriel stared at his phone, unsure of what to answer. Luckily, Elain wrote to him again.

Elain What are you doing tonight?

Azriel Nothing. Just eating pasta and watching TV. How about you?

Elain That sounds amazing. I have been editing this video for hours so I’m just tired and cranky, haha. I have just ordered a pizza and I think I’ll just eat it in bed as soon as this video has finished uploading. What did you watch?

Azriel If I told you, I would have to kill you.

Elain Oh, intriguing! Is it trashy drama? I bet it’s Grey’s anatomy! Or maybe… Love Island?

Azriel stared at his phone. Did she really think that he would watch something like Love Island?

Azriel I watched New Girl, okay. Don’t tell anyone.

Elain Your secret is safe with me! Also, I love New Girl! Especially Winston!

It felt as if someone was squeezing Azriel’s heart.

Azriel Really? Which character would you be?

Elain My pizza is here so I am going to put all of my electronics in a different room and eat my pizza while reading a good book. It was great talking to you, Azriel! Please tell me what you thought of the video when you have watched it.

Elain Oh, and I would probably be Winston’s cat. lol

Azriel almost dropped his phone. If he had to be alone with a cat for the rest of his life, he would definitely want Elain to be his cat , he thought to himself. Which was a weird thing to think about someone you didn’t know. Azriel dropped his head to his kitchen counter and took a deep breath before replying.

Azriel It was great talking to you too, Elain. Enjoy your dinner and your book :)

She didn’t answer, but she didn’t have to. Azriel was going to be thinking about her for the rest of the night anyway.

30 minutes later, he got a notification telling him that Flower Girl ASMR had uploaded a new video. The video was called “ASMR for IT-guys”, which made him chuckle. He clicked the video and Elain’s beautiful face filled his screen again.

“Hello, my lovelies, lovelies, lovelies,” she whispered in her microphone. “This week’s video will be a bit different,” she continued, slowly moving her hands in front of the camera. “This video was inspired by my friend who recently helped me with some computer-related issues, issues, issues.”

Azriel loved it when she repeated words like that. And he liked that he somehow was a part of this video. It was something that connected them. Azriel paused the video and got into bed, knowing fully well that he would probably fall asleep soon if he kept watching this.

He pressed play again. “So, today, I thought that we would try a few computer-related triggers. I have a keyboard here,” she said and started typing on a keyboard that was out of view. “I thought that I would say a few trigger words while typing them.”

She smiled at the camera and pressed a few more keys. “I just wrote my friend’s name, but you won’t get to know who he is. But you know who you are. Thank you for your help!”

Azriel felt all warm inside.

She continued the video. “The first trigger word is IP address ”. Azriel laughed as she repeated the word multiple times while typing quickly.

“And then we have, laptop, laptop, laptop,” she continued, and Azriel felt shivers go down his spine when she popped the p’s.

Azriel had never thought that he would fall asleep to someone whispering “HTML coding” in his ears, but here he was. Relaxed and ready to sleep.

All thanks to Flower Girl ASMR.

━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━

The next day, Azriel texted Elain that he had loved the video. He waited for hours, but no reply came. Maybe she just wanted to repay me for helping her? Azriel thought. Maybe she would stop talking to him now that he had seen the video.

The thought of never talking to Elain again made him feel a new kind of ache in his chest. An ache he didn’t want to feel. This stupid crush needs to end, he muttered to himself as he started to scrub his kitchen counter. He tried to ignore the feeling by keeping busy. He cleaned his apartment and did some laundry before heading over to his friends’ house.

Rhys greeted him by the door and ushered him inside.

“She started cooking like 15 minutes ago, please save whatever can be saved,” he whispered to Azriel. Azriel chuckled and made his way to the kitchen. On the way there, he passed the living room and stopped to greet his friends. He saw most of them on a daily basis because of work, but he was still happy to see them. Cassian and his fiancée Nesta sat close together on one of the green velvet couches. On the opposite couch sat Mor and Amren. Mor was one of the journalists at Velaris News, and Amren was an editor. They had known each other for years. Amren and Rhys had studied together at university, and Mor was Rhysand’s cousin. Once upon a time, Azriel had a crush on Mor. One night after one too many glasses at Rita’s he confessed his feelings to her and she had looked horrified. He had expected her to tell him that she didn’t fancy him and leave it at that, but instead, she had blurted “I like girls!”

Azriel was the first person she ever came out to, and he had felt honored. He also knew now that they wouldn’t have worked out together in the long run (even if Mor had been straight). They were just too different. She was energetic and outgoing and fun, he needed peace and quiet. But she was still one of his very best friends.

Amren on the other hand, he didn’t know as well. She had always been very private, but she was damn good at her job.

“Where’s Varian tonight?” Azriel asked Amren, trying to make small talk.

“How should I know?” she answered quickly. “I’m not his mother.”

Cassian stared at her. “But you are his girlfriend?”

She shrugged. “I don’t like to label things.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. Amren had lived with Varian for the past two years, but she was still reluctant to tell anyone about their relationship.

Azriel made his way into the kitchen, and from what he could tell, he made it just in time.

“What are you making, Feyre?” he asked, because truthfully, he couldn’t tell.

Feyre turned around quickly as if he had startled her. “Oh, hi Az,” she said and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand.

Something was burning.

“I was trying to make lamb chops with glazed carrots, roasted potatoes, and salsa verde, but…” she gestured to the stove, which looked like a disaster.

Azriel chuckled. “That’s ambitious.” He lifted the lid from one of the pots and could clearly see that she had overcooked the lamb 10 minutes ago. Also, why had she made them in a pot, and not a frying pan? It would be inedible.

The potatoes were still in the sink, unpeeled.

She gave him a strained smile. “Will you help me?”

“Of course.” Azriel put the grocery bag he had brought with him on the kitchen island. “On one condition.”

“Anything.” She sounded desperate.

“Please, for the love of god, let Rhys cook when we come over. You really don’t have to show off. You are good at many things, Feyre. But cooking is unfortunately not one of them.”

She nodded. “I know,” she sat down on one of the stools at the kitchen island and buried her face in her hand. “I just...I need to be able to cook when I become a mother.”

Azriel took her hand in his. “You really don’t. Nobody expect fathers to be good at cooking, so why should every mother be good at it? Honestly, just let Rhys cook while you play with the kids.”

She smiled at him. “That actually sounds amazing,” she sighed.

“Right?”

Azriel started to pull out some ingredients from the bag on the kitchen island. He held up the tomatoes and the spaghetti, “How about some pasta arrabbiata with burrata?”

“Sounds fancy.”

He shrugged. “Everything sounds fancier in a different language. It’s just pasta with a spicy tomato sauce, and burrata on top.”

“Whatever you make will probably be better than that mess,” she said and glanced towards the stove. Azriel couldn’t disagree.

“Probably,” he laughed and got to work. Azriel placed all the pots and pans in the sink and started chopping the vegetables for the sauce, and in just 30 minutes, dinner was served.

“You are my hero,” Feyre said and kissed his cheek as she carried the big bowl of pasta to the dining room.

Everyone had already gathered around the table, wine glasses in hand. As Azriel sat down, Mor poured him some wine.

“This looks amazing,” Nesta said and Cassian nodded in agreement.

“Thanks, Az helped a little,” Feyre said and winked at Azriel.

“Just a bit,” Azriel said and took a sip of wine.

The conversation (and wine) flowed freely, as it always did. Cassian and Nesta told them about their wedding plans, Mor gushed about Emerie, a girl she was dating, and Feyre told them about life as a high school art teacher. Azriel would never understand how anyone could choose to spend their days with teenagers, but Feyre loved it.

After two bottles of wine, Nesta and Mor were in an argument about which animal was the cutest.

“No, I am telling you, Sloths are cuter than any animal ever,” Mor exclaimed. “Have you seen their dopey little faces?”

“Sloths? Really?” Nesta looked at her as if she had suggested that the sky was green. “Red pandas are way cuter! They are cute and cuddly, Sloths just look like every single stoner I went to high school with.”

They had been at it for 10 minutes, which Azriel found to be quite impressive.

“Can you both just shut up?” Amren gritted out. “The cutest animals are koalas. They’re even cute when they fight. I am right, you are wrong. Please stop this meaningless discussion before I die from boredom.”

Nesta and Mor looked at Amren, and then at each other.

“We obviously have to see Koalas fight if you want us to end this conversation,” Mor said.

Nesta nodded. “Obviously. Give me your phone, Az,” she said and reached for his phone.

“Why do you need my phone?”

“Because mine is dead and yours is right there on the table. Also, your screen is big and we need to watch this in full HD, for obvious reasons.”

Azriel huffed a laugh, unlocked his phone, and handed it to Nesta.

She clicked the Youtube app, and then her face fell. She looked at Azriel as if he was an alien, and then she showed the phone to Cassian who looked at him with the same facial expression.

What the hell had they found?

He didn’t have anything weird on his phone. And he sure as hell didn’t watch porn on it.

“What?” Azriel asked, and Nesta turned the phone.

Fuck. The last video he had watched was still loaded on Youtube, and of course, it was Elain’s latest video.

“What the hell is this?” Nesta asked, almost looking angry.

Azriel didn’t understand why she found ASMR so wrong, but he desperately wanted to explain himself.

“Well, it’s ASMR. It’s kind of… well, it’s hard to explain, but it helps me sleep and– “

Nesta interrupted him before he could finish. “I know what ASMR is. I am wondering why you are watching Elain?”

Azriel stared at Nesta in shock. Did she also like Elain’s videos? But that wouldn’t explain the anger and confusion.

“Do you...know her?” Azriel asked.

“Yes, we went to university together. She’s our florist for the wedding. She was the florist at their wedding, too,” Nesta answered and gestured towards Rhys and Feyre. “Surely you have met her?”

Azriel could do nothing but shake his head in confusion. If he had ever met Elain, he would have known. You didn’t forget a face like hers.

“Please tell me you’re not stalking her like some creep, Az. Honestly, her last boyfriend was the world’s biggest asshat.”

“I’m not stalking her,” Azriel blurted out. “I’m just watching her videos to fall asleep, I promise. I– I didn’t know that you knew her.”

Nesta eyed him suspiciously. “So, is this just a coincidence?”

He nodded. “Weirder things have happened,” he said, trying to lighten the mood.

Nesta glanced at Cassian, and then back at Azriel. “Fine,” she said after a small eternity. “You would probably be cute together anyway. Sorry for insinuating that you would be a stalker.” She really did look remorseful. “That wasn’t fair. I’m just very protective of her. She’s the nicest girl, but she has horrendous taste in men.”

Azriel couldn’t answer, because his mind was still stuck on the fact that Nesta said that they would be cute together. He wanted to ask Nesta why she thought that. He kind of also wanted to ask her if Elain lived here in Velaris, and what her favorite movie was, and if she, by any chance, had a boyfriend. But he refrained, he didn’t want to sound like a stalker.

“So, what the fuck is ASMR?” Cassian asked. “Is it like porn?”

Before Azriel could answer, Rhys said “It’s like porn for your ears, I guess,” and then the entire table was laughing.

“Nesta,” Feyre said when the laughter had died down. “Does Elain still have that cute, little shop on River Street?”

“Mhm,” Nesta answered and took a sip of her wine.

Azriel could kiss Feyre for asking. And if he wasn’t mistaken, he could see her wink in his direction before raising her water glass to her lips.

Azriel walked home that evening with a million thoughts in his head.

He made a list in his head:

Elain lived in Velaris

River Street was literally a 10-minute walk from his home.

Nesta thought that they would be cute together

This meant nothing

She probably didn’t even like him back

Just because they were in the same city, it didn’t mean that they would ever meet.

This was still just a crush

And it was probably one-sided

She hadn’t even answered his latest text message.

And as if on cue, his phone vibrated in his pocket.

Elain I’m sorry that I didn’t answer you earlier. I’ve been at work all day. We had a leak in the basement and everything was just chaos. I haven’t even checked my phone until now.

He mentally scratched number 9 from his list.

Azriel No worries! Did you fix the leak?

Azriel checked the time on his phone: 23.30

Had she dealt with this leak until now?

Elain Yes! But so many flowers were ruined (I’m a florist) and I had to remake a few arrangements for a wedding that’s coming up.

Elain I’m sorry. You probably don’t care. I’m happy that you liked the video :)

Azriel wanted to tell her that he did care. That everything she said was interesting to him. He would probably even find her Starbucks order fascinating. But that bordered on stalker behavior.

Azriel Again, no worries! Sometimes when you’ve had a bad day, you just need someone to vent to.

Elain Exactly! Thank you for letting me vent :) This day is finally over!

There was a selfie attached to the last message.

Elain was standing in front of a big window surrounded by flowers. She was wearing a white, oversized shirt and her hair was in a messy bun. She looked tired but happy. She was giving him ‘thumbs up’ in the photo and through the window, he could see the Sidra. They were indeed in the same city. It made him both happy and nervous.

Elain Sweaty but happy to be heading home :)

Azriel received that last message when he walked through the door to his apartment. What the hell was he supposed to answer?

But then he thought back to Nesta’s words.

You would probably be cute together.

So he took a deep breath and gathered all his courage.

Azriel You still look beautiful though

He stared at his phone. Would she answer? Would she block him? Would she tell him to stop being a creep?

Elain Thank you :) What do you look like? I might have forgotten ;)

Okay. That was flirty. Even Azriel could tell that that was a flirty text message, and he was usually oblivious to such things. He quickly walked to his bathroom (it was the room with the best lighting). He checked his shirt (no stains) and mussed with his hair.

“Good enough,” he muttered, and snapped a selfie.

Before he could chicken out, he sent it to her.

Within seconds, he received a reply.

Elain Beautiful!

#elriel #elriel fanfic #acotar fanfiction #acotar #elain x azriel #elain archeron #azriel x elain #azriel

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portwellmakesmeweep · 3 years

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FULL PORTWELL COMMENTARY (on the finale)

let’s just start with-

@portwell shippers all around the world

but anyway,

when i first watched the episode i was actually angry. we didn’t get a portwell kiss and i’d really convinced myself we were going to get one. now, i’ve rewatched the entire episode and have decided...

i absolutely fucking love this portwell ending.

hear me out, not only was it rom com worthy but we now can say PORTWELL IS CANON! r*nas literally back tf away.

this was the perfect way to end their storyline this season. portwell, since 1x01 has been THE SLOWBURN of the show. portwell is the jacey (dawson’s creek). portwell is the monica x chandler (friends). portwell is the luke x lorelai (gilmore girls). portwell is the schmidt x cece (new girl). i could go on and on for days with other examples of amazing slow burn relationships but i’ll stop there.

and the main thing that has me screaming about portwell is this.

disney shows don’t usually have that many seasons. (4-5? i could see hsmtmts MAYBE having 6). the writers wouldn’t have TWO SEASONS of development, hint (or not even hint, basically confirm) they will be canonically dating in season three, and make SUCH A BIG DEAL OUT OF ONE LITTLE KISS for portwell to be a fling.

PORTWELL IS ENDGAME. portwell is THAT COUPLE that will be together from beginning to end. will they maybe break up randomly for like 5 seconds, maybe? but ultimately, they will get their happily ever after. that’s just good writing.

now for my season 3 portwell predictions:

• start the season with a portwell kiss (maybe gina does the previously on?) i’m pretty sure sofia will be 18 by the time they are filming so i’m 99% sure about this.

• cute portwell moments just EVERYWHERE

• the first few episodes won’t have any angst surrounding them and they’ll just be all happy while other things happen (nini and jamie stuff, lily and ricky stuff, etc.)

•now i think the angst of the season isn’t going to be miscommunication based or love triangle based. i think that kourtney didn’t actually burn that envelope and looked in it (bc girl, i would) and she saw ej got nominated for that scholarship. IF the season picks up right where we left off i think there might be a possibility of ej getting offered a scholarship and him struggling to choose between ny and staying in salt lake. idk tho.

anyway i’m gonna go read portwell fanfic and cry, thank you for listening.

#hsmtmts spoilers #high school musical the musical the series #portwell #ej caswell #ej x gina #gina porter #matt cornett #sofia wylie

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dr-lizortecho · 2 years

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5 shows

Rules: Pick 5 shows, then answer the following questions. Don't cheat. Tag 10 people

I was tagged by @salvatorestjohn! Thanks, this was a lot of fun!

My Shows:

1- Roswell New Mexico

2- The Vampire Diaries

3- New Girl

4- Justice League Unlimited

5- Moonlight (2007)

Questions:

1) Who is your favourite character in 2(the Vampire Diaries)?

This is difficult… a tie between Bonnie Bennet and Tyler Lockwood, they both deserved more content and better storylines

2) Who is your least favourite character in 1(Roswell New Mexico)?

Nora Truman hands down, I feel like she could have been written more consistently (and maybe held accountable for her actions) but Noah Bracken is a close tie… sorry if I’m being salty but just nah

3) What is your favourite episode of 4(Justice League Unlimited)?

“This Little Piggy” like come on, Wonder Woman gets turned into a pig and Batman has to serenade Circe to get her back? with Zatana doing a guest appearance!

4) What is your favourite season of 5(Moonlight)?

Welp, season one. The one and only, lol

5) Who is your favourite couple in 3(New Girl)?

Cece and Schmidt, they are in fact soulmates

6) Who is your favourite couple in 2(the Vampire Diaries)?

This is a hard one, cause there were a lot of good couples, but for healthy dynamics and how invested I was would be Tyler/Caroline cause they were too precious and had the exact right amount of doomed from the start angst

7) What is your favourite season of 1(Roswell New Mexico)?

Probably season one, I loved the unraveling of the ‘what happened to Rosa?’ the plot points being hit nearly every episode and everything about Echo of course

season two was great for character dynamics and three seems to soon to properly judge

8) What is your favourite episode of 5(Moonlight)?

“Sonata” it’s the final installation and shows Mick and Beth getting over themselves, but most importantly for young me, posed the question of how a vampire could be ‘cured’ and what that meant for the universe in general

9) What is your favourite episode of 2(the Vampire Diaries)?

4x08 “We’ll Always Have Bourbon Street” for no reason besides Damon&Stefan, Bonnie&Elena&Caroline bonding time, and Tyler straight up telling Elena she was in love with Damon and to screw the sirebond, cause Tyler&Elena would have been such a good friendship to explore more of

10) How long had you watched 1(Roswell New Mexico)?

I’ve been watching it since it started airing, actually saw the pilot episode live and fell into this unwittingly

11) How did you become interested in 3(New Girl)?

My sister made me watch a few episodes with her and it was the first actually funny sitcom I ever saw, so I ended up watching the entire thing

12) Who is your favourite actor in 4(Justice League Unlimited)?

So voice actors… idk, Mark Hamill did a wonderful job as always

13) Which do you prefer, 1, 2, or 5?

Roswell New Mexico hands down, it’s my current obsession and I think the characters are wonderful so idk…

14) Which show have you seen more episodes of, 1(Roswell New Mexico) or 3(New Girl)?

I’ve seen all existing episodes of both, but New Girl has more so it wins out here

15) If you could be anyone from 4(Justice League Unlimited), who would you be?

umm, toss up between Black Canary and the Question, but Vic does hold a special place in my heart so who knows

16) Would a crossover between 3(New Girl) and 4(Justice League Unlimited) work?

It would be too chaotic… like animated Jess??? or live action Batman??? it just… doesn’t

17) Pair two characters in 1(Roswell New Mexico) that would make an unlikely but strangely okay couple

okay, so I ship practically everyone in RNM, so unlikely is hard for me to wrap my head around… because they all seem likely. However, based off the universe and the history I’d have to say Michael/Liz just because of Max and all the context there, because they are great on paper, their personalities compliment each other nicely (even if they’d probably lock themselves into the grotto and die of starvation science-ing together)

18) Overall, which show has the better storyline, 3(New Girl) or 5(Moonlight)?

not to hate on New Girl but as a sitcom it introduces random elements randomly, looses characters all the time, and reset Coach every time he returned to the loft

so Moonlight wins (also because it got canceled before they wrote too much plot)

19) Which has the better theme music, 2(the Vampire Diaries) or 4(Justice League Unlimited)?

did TVD have theme music? so I guess JLU, but TVD’s soundtrack was like listening to my playlists 60% of the time

20) What is your favourite episode of 3(New Girl)?

Probably the very last one, it appealed to my character and possibility driven brain, with that flash-forward to them playing All-American with their kids, it was just too sweet

no pressure tags: @jule1122 @cygnetofthesea @spcecowboyyy and anyone who wants to do this consider yourself tagged!

#long post #sorry guys #roswell new mexico #the vampire diaires #new girl #moonlight 2007

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sakurashell · 2 years

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you know what i'll say: watch Psycho Pass

do it for Him (the stoic, abrasive, yet damaged and ultimately the replica of levi in the 22nd century)

(you'll have to wait a bit for the shaggier hair and lack of glasses (which are for a wholesome reason))

other animes i have thoroughly enjoyed: Your Lie in April (pain, pain, pain and pain), Tokyo Ghoul (gore and pain), 91 Days (gore, mafia shit, Prohibition Era, only 12 episodes), Death Parade (pain, pain, SO MUCH pain but only 12 episodes (tw: heavy talks surrounding depression and unaliving in it)), and on more lighthearted note - Love is War! (the funniest thing i am currently watching)

i saw tokyo ghoul, 91 days and death parade!!! I actually saw the first episode of Psycho pass as well a while ago but i might have forgotten about it lmaooo, i’m definitely going to continue it tho (surely not because there’s an extremely attractive character with dark hair and a stoic face) thank you for the recommendations cece <3

#ben socializes #moots love #from: cece #ben listens

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mk-wizard · 3 years

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The Missing Mothers of Transformers Part 3

Hello, friends. This is a bonus part of a series based on a question that was asked by me a while ago. I warn you in advance that it is a sad topic and if you’re from a family where affairs and possible children through them happened, I will keep it sensitive. I am also not discussing this to tarnish the image of Rescue Bots nor do I mean to make the Burns family look bad. Anyway, here it goes and I’m sorry in advance if I make people sad.

A while ago, I did an analysis of the Burns family on why Mrs. Burns (the mother) is missing from the series. To sum it up in a recap, after noting that Chief Burns is as traditional as they come, it is shown that he has had way too much experience caring for his family alone even with so many kids with big age differences, he doesn’t wear his wedding band and no one talks about the missing mom and there are never even pictures of her. To me, this is all some rather dark evidence that it is likely that Chief and Mrs. Burns had a pretty rocky marriage and that she was in fact in a “problem child” of a wife who left all responsibility including raising the kids to Charlie and eventually either ditched them or Charlie had enough so he kicked her to the curb for the family’s own good. I should also note as someone who is married and knows other married couples; when someone doesn’t wear their wedding band yet highly values marriage and family, it is either because they do a lot of work with their hands or their own marriage was awful. In the case of Charlie Burns, other than cooking, his hands don’t get all that dirty with any hobbies or his work, so it is very likely that the latter is the case.

Anyway, as I have been rewatching the show because I like it and good shows are worth watching again, the analysis stayed with me and something began to not sit well with me. I didn’t know it at first until I paid close attention to the family group shots. I noticed something that took even more of my innocence towards the show away. The Burns kids don’t look like their dad. And what’s even more unsettling is that... each of them looks different. I mean, look at their hair! Each one of them has different coloured or shaded hair!

Even in the episode where Cody temporarily grows up, he doesn’t look like his dad. Sure they both have moustaches, but any man has facial hair.

Let me explain all of this further. Chief Burns is a blonde with hair that was once the same shade and is the same texture as Graham’s, but what about the other three kids? Cody’s the wrong kind of blonde with the wrong kind of texture while Dani and Kade are both redheads. And not even the same kinds. Also, if I saw these four kids together and didn’t know them, the only two who look related are Graham and Cody. Kade and Dani look like they came from different families and even Cody doesn’t look like his dad.

For those of you who don’t know genetics, refer to this chart;

After taking a good look and recalling that Charlie Burns is a blonde who went gray with age, in order for him and his wife to have had redheads, she would have had to have been a brunette at least. However, even with that said, would Dani and Kade have the same type of red hair? And isn’t just their hair that’s different, Cody and Kade’s faces are different from their dad’s and from each other. And as for Dani, she doesn’t look a thing like any of her brothers. In fact, recalling that only Graham looks like the Chief, Cody, Dani and Kade all don’t look like their dad or like each other.

I am putting together a picture in my mind that is making me flinch, but I have to point it out. It is not possible for three of the kids to not look like each other and yet for all of them to have come from the same two parents. I think Cody clearly took after his mother and his dad, Dani took after her dad and Kade took after his dad. Yes, I am phrasing it that way on purpose because I think Kade, Dani and Cody... each had different fathers and none of them were Charlie. I know it’s a pretty dark conclusion especially for a kid’s show, but the evidence is just too compelling. It explains why they don’t look related and also why their age differences are all over the place. I can understand them having kids back to back with the first three, but Cody is still a kid indicating that he wasn’t planned. And suppose Mrs. Burns was fooling around with other men and getting pregnant by them, it would explain why she only left the picture after Cody was born. Charlie isn’t gullible or dumb, but for a person who was still in the beginning of his marriage, he might have just chalked up Kade and Dani’s red hair to coming from ancestors on their mother’s side and I can tell you as someone who has seen tons of babies, sometimes, who they take after is hard to read. I think it was only as the kids got older and their features matured, and Mrs. Burns’ true nature revealed itself, that Charlie became suspicious. And if at this point, things between them were that rocky, it is very likely that they became physically distant too. This means that Mrs. Burns fourth pregnancy which resulted in Cody could have only come from an affair which also gave away that she was having one because how else did she get pregnant if she wasn’t getting any from her husband?

The picture I draw after this is that after Cody was born, Charlie found out the truth about his other two kids not really being his either so he divorced his cheating wife. I don’t know if he threw her out and kept Cody out of compassion because he knew he was in for a bad life with such a sleazy woman or if Mrs. Burns just left and abandoned the family. I am also not sure if any of the kids are aware that Charlie isn’t really their dad if what I’m saying is true though judging by the way they act, I would have to say none of them know.

I know this fan theory is very, very sad, but in a way it also highlights to what extent Charlie is a good man and a hero. Most men would have been broken upon finding out that the majority of their kids weren’t theirs and would have even abandoned them. Charlie did no such thing. He stepped up and clearly loves all four of those kids as his own.

I also want to point out to anyone who says “well, it’s a cartoon so it’s going to have character design goofs”, all of the other characters who are family look related at least. Frankie is hinted to be the spitting image of her biological mother though her lips are that of her dad’s and her half-sister baby CeCe is a blend of her dad and stepmother.

And even mayor Luskey and his brother look related at least. Same nose, chin, eyebrows, face shape and hair. Their dimples even fall in the same places. Only the heights, body types, weights and skin tones are difference. If these two men can be so different yet can still easily pass off as brother yet the Burns kids are not so easy to pass off as family, you know something is up. And it wasn’t bad character design.

Once again, I am sorry if I made you sad and I hope I was sensitive towards people who have walked in these shoes. It is not a pleasant topic, but in a way, it is a good thing that Transformers represents people in these situations and shows us that it doesn’t matter where you came from. What matters is that you’re a good and kind person, and that love is what makes a family.

I would love to hear what people think of this theory I drew up or rather, the expansion on an existing theory. Hats off to the REAL dads and REAL moms who step up to the plate when other cowardly leave.

If you have a Transformers theory or character analysis you want explored, please let me know in my ask box. And please, support me through Patreon or Ko-fi if you want me to make Transformers merch and videos. Or if you want a commission of your favourite bot, let me know in my shop. All links are on my profile page.

Thanks for reading and please, stay safe. And please, take time to tell your parents how much you love them especially during this time of the year.

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imagineaworlds · 3 years

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I Love You (Part Twenty-Three) -- Aaron Hotchner

Written By: @desperately-bisexual

Request: None.

Warnings: SMUT!! Cursing. Dom/sub relationship. Sir kink. Name calling. Brat taming. Bondage (tied back with a neck tie). Fingering. Choking. (Slight breath play?). Talk of kidnapping and murder-- everything Criminal Minds.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Greenaway!Reader

Word Count: 16297

Timeline: Season 3 Episode 19. Two months after part twenty-two.

Hotch was standing at the window in his office, his hands buried in his pockets. His face was flat with a natural frown, his eyes scanning the bullpen, not looking for anything specific. When I noticed that his gaze was lingering on me from time to time a little too long, I leaned back in my chair, bit the back of my pen, and stared back with a smirk. I thought that the challenge would earn me a smile or at least a beckoning finger to lure me to his office, but he didn’t budge. He continued to watch the BAU move and work around him while he was lost in thought.

Something was wrong. The fact that he didn’t even pretend to not see me by going to sit down at his desk to distract himself told me that he really wasn’t paying attention and that his mind was elsewhere. It could have been related to whatever just happened on the phone call he was on only a few minutes ago. Or maybe it had to do with the way I kind of blue balled him that morning. He had woken up a little handsy, and I tried to play along before we realized that we were running late, and I made the call to wait until after work. Whatever was going on, it had him in a twist.

Finally, after a few minutes of me watching him, he finally gave in and exited his office. He walked down into the bullpen, waiting a moment to make his presence known while he just listened to the shenanigans the team had going on. As usual, Morgan was giving Reid a rough time, which was earning a laugh from the entire office. Garcia had brought in a photo she found of Emily in high school, which then turned into finding old pictures of Reid. Of course, Reid was a huge dork, and it was the perfect ammunition for Morgan to poke fun at him.

When Hotch cleared his throat, though, everyone stopped and turned. Just as I had noticed something was wrong, so too did the rest of the team. So when Morgan asked what was wrong, Hotch shuffled on the balls of his feet awkwardly and answered, “Brian Matloff woke up.”

Reid and Morgan exchanged a glance.

“What are you talking about, Hotch?” Morgan asked.

“I’m about to go to the hospital, but I got the call a few minutes ago.”

“It’s been four years.”

“I know.”

“Anyone care to explain to the class?” Emily spoke up, injecting herself into the conversation because the rest of us were in dire need of context.

“Brian Matloff, the Blue Ridge Strangler,” Reid clarified for us. “Hotch, Morgan, and I worked his case about four years back.”

“We nearly had him, too, but the son of a bitch leapt off a building,” Morgan hissed through his teeth.

It was clearly still a sore topic for Hotch and Morgan, though Reid seemed mostly unbothered. But that was what had Hotch all upset and broody in his office. Morgan didn’t like letting criminals get away, and if they died, he felt like that was worse than letting them go. As for Hotch, it sounded like the case was something that he had a lot of problems with after the fact. Maybe he was scrutinized for how the case ended, or maybe he was also upset that Matloff got out of it without serving his time. Either way, neither of them seemed to be over it, even though it had been four years.

“He killed three victims in the Blue Ridge Parkway,” Hotch gave more explanation since Morgan was letting his anger cloud his thoughts and conversational skills.

“Well, allegedly,” Reid said. “He was never convicted because after he jumped off that building, he went into a coma.”

“Yeah, well, he’s awake now,” Hotch scoffed, crossing his arms. “And he’s finally going to be tried. They want the three of us to testify. I’m headed down to the hospital now to talk with the prosecutor, Cece Hillenbrand, and we’ll discuss where we’ll go from here.”

“You want backup?” Morgan asked.

Hotch shook his head. “I’ll let you guys know everything once I’m done.” He buried his hands in his pockets as he returned to his office to grab his things then head out.

We all looked at each other blankly. The information Hotch just dropped on us hadn’t yet settled, and confusion was still hanging in the air. I could tell that Morgan was pissed, and Reid was simple mind-boggled. Emily and I still didn’t have all the pieces, which left our confusion in a separate category from the rest of them. We weren’t around when this Blue Ridge Strangler case was ongoing, and I hadn’t even heard of it before. Hotch probably forgot about it altogether until he got that call. It didn’t surprise me that it hadn’t come up before, but the shock of it still hit me with the same force that it clearly hit Hotch, Morgan, and Reid.

When Hotch left his office with his briefcase, we all watched him. Morgan looked anxious, like he wanted to go with Hotch, that the offer he made for backup was less of an offer and more of a “let’s go” statement that Hotch turned down. Then, when he was gone, I expected the office to go back to work, but no one moved. We didn’t even turn back to our paperwork. It was quiet. Telephones rang, keyboards clacked, Anderson was running around and asking for lunch orders. Yet no one moved or said anything. It was such an odd thing to think about. Usually, when we took down Unsubs, one of two things would happen: we would take them in and they’d serve their time, or for one reason or another, they’d die. We never, ever had an instance before like this where an Unsub would wake up years afterwards. What were we supposed to do? How were we supposed to respond?

“Four years…” Morgan mumbled, throwing his pen on his desk. “Four years that asshole is out of it, and then he just… wakes up.”

“It’s a miracle he even woke up,” Reid said, still dumbfounded. I had never seen him so baffled in my life. Reid always had something to say, but not this time. Finally.

Truth be told, though, it didn’t feel like a miracle. Matloff waking up when things were finally getting better after Garcia got shot seemed like a big “fuck you” from the universe. At some point we deserved a break, right? I mean, Hotch, of all people, deserved a break. He had been working tirelessly for years, and it seemed like since our brief suspensions, he was working even harder. I just wanted him to stop. I wanted him to slow down, to look at life, to look at our family, and appreciate what we had. Matloff waking up was just going to prolong that attempt… It was exhausting.

About an hour later, we were all still sitting around silently. Reid managed to get back to his work, but he was slow, which was odd. Emily was trying to fit all the pieces together of what was happening and what was about to happen, meanwhile Morgan and I were still just… there. When my phone started ringing, the whole office jumped. Even Anderson jumped in his own skin. Hotch was calling me already. Hopefully, it was good news that I could share with the office to ease everyone’s conscience.

“Greenaway,” I answered.

“We’ve got a problem,” Hotch said in a breathless panic. “Matloff had amnesia.” My eyes widened and I spun around in my chair to look at Morgan. He glanced up at me, catching my worry, and in return grew confused. “Dave’s coming down to help us rebuild the case, but our key witness died of an overdose two years ago, and the prosecution still wants me to testify, but not Morgan or Reid, and I—”

“Hotch,” I caught his attention after he started rambling. “It’s going to be okay. What do you need?”

“Approach it like it’s any case? Go through everything. Victimology, M.O., find the evidence, build the profile, do everything you can to help us put this guy away.”

I nodded, though he couldn’t see me. “I’ll get the team on it right away.”

“Thank you. I love you.”

I looked around the bullpen to see that everyone was watching me, waiting eagerly for answers. I couldn’t say it back while they were all watching. As much as I wanted to, Hotch and I had our rules for a reason, and even something as simple as “I love you” just wasn’t appropriate in front of the team. At least not yet. Considering how comfortable the two of us were getting around each other at the office, it almost felt like saying “I love you” while around our co-workers wasn’t a big deal. But that was a conversation for another time, I supposed. So all I said back to Hotch was, “I’ll see you when you get back.” And then, without saying anything else, I had to hang up on him. One of these days I was going to say it back to him while around our friends, and I wasn’t going to be afraid to do it. Hopefully that time was soon.

“What was that about?” Morgan asked.

“We need to start building a case against Matloff,” I answered, standing from my seat. Everyone got up from their desks and followed me to the roundtable. “Matloff supposedly has amnesia. He doesn’t remember the murders.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Morgan scoffed.

I shook my head. “JJ, do you think that you and Garcia can get the case files for us?”

“Sure,” she accepted, leaving through the back door to head to Garcia’s office.

“Hotch wants us to build the case up from the ground,” I told the remaining members of the team in the room. Morgan, Reid, and Emily all sighed. It was going to be a very long day. “Hotch and Rossi should be calling back with more information once they have it.”

JJ and Garcia returned with copies of the Matloff case files for each of us. They handed them out then took a seat with us at the table. We had to start with victimology, like always. Three women were found murdered and buried in Blue Ridge Parkway. They were all found buried next to each other in shallow, two-foot deep graves. The soil over the bodies was fairly new when they were found, which referenced that the Unsub was going back again and again to revisit the bodies. The victims themselves were slim, beautiful, brunette, brown eyed women. They had all been out for jogs on the pathway when they went missing. Victimology wise, he went for women who attracted him sexually, and he always went for them when they were alone and least expecting it. He took them, strangled them, and buried them deep in the forest where he thought no one would find them.

Based on such information, we could determine the simple: he visited the part enough to know it like the back of his hand. A park ranger would have that knowledge. He liked to revisit the scenes, which made it sexually motivated. He had a ruse and a plan in order to take his victims, which made him intelligent and organized. All of which pointed directly to Brian Matloff.

The best part was, with the third victim, Darci Corbet, there was a witness who could put Brian Matloff at the scene. While that sounded like that would suddenly make this an open and shut case, the downside was that Marvin Leopold, the witness on the trail that morning, died two years ago of an overdose. So the fact of the matter was this: there was no physical evidence connecting Matloff to the crimes, no one to put him at the scenes, and our Unsub had amnesia. Plain and simple, we were fucked.

Hotch wanted us to rebuild the profile, but… no matter how we looked at it, it pointed to Matloff. That was the unfortunate part of looking at the case after they had caught the guy. We were biased, and our profile was always going to be tweaked to point fingers at Matloff. Emily, JJ, and I were supposed to be the most impartial at that table, yet the three of us kept coming up with the same profile they built four years ago. Great. That wasn’t exactly helpful. How were we supposed to find another way to tie this to Matloff when our tunnel vision was blinding us from seeing outside the box? I almost wished that Hotch hadn’t told us about Matloff first. Maybe this would have been easier.

“What about this?” Emily asked, pointing to something in her file before turning it around for all of us to see. She had spotted something about Matloff’s fascination of Native American Culture, and she was curious how that helped the profile back then.

“Matloff was obsessed with the Native American belief that burying a body face down traps the soul of the person and prevents them from haunting the killer,” Reid explained. “Tying together his interest with the mythology, we were able to hone in on his M.O.”

“What caught his eye about that?” JJ asked. “I mean, he grew up Catholic in the city. How would he have grown into the obsession?”

Morgan shrugged. “We didn’t get that far.”

“What about the jewelry he took as souvenirs? Does that have anything to do with the mythology?” I asked.

“Not that I know of,” Reid said, shaking his head. “We don’t even know what he did with them. We were hoping that he kept them at his apartment so that we could have physical evidence tying him to the crime, but we never found anything.”

My phone buzzed with a text suddenly. I turned it over on the table to light up the screen and get a look. Hotch had texted to say: “Judge wants to meet this afternoon with how to proceed.” I looked up at the team as they were still chatting about what to do, and an idea hit me. I picked my phone up and texted Hotch back. “Psych eval.” It took him a few minutes to respond, which was why I was shocked when all it read was: “Thanks. Love you.” That meant that they were either going to do it, or Hotch was completely ignoring me. I wasn’t sure which. Then, my phone buzzed again. “Can you and JJ go to the hospital to learn more about Matloff’s amnesia and his stay there over the past four years?” I rolled my eyes. I texted back a reluctant: “Sure. Love you.”, then buried my phone in my pocket.

I looked at JJ and nodded towards the door. We gathered our things after she caught my hint. On our way out to the car, I told JJ what we were doing. The plan was to head to Matloff’s hospital, talk to the doctors, find out what we could about him over the past four years. It wasn’t much to go on, but we were going to do what we could.

At the hospital, JJ and I navigated our way to the wing where Matloff had been kept for the past four years. People were hurrying around us, monitors were beeping, doctors were shouting for help, and the elevator was dinging with every floor it passed, but JJ and I stayed to ourselves. We walked quietly and calmly, making our way there without bothering anyone. We knew what we were there for, we knew how to get the information, and we knew where to get it. There was no point running around like headless chicken like every other time I had been to the hospital over the past year.

When we reached the front desk of the wing that we needed to visit, JJ asked for the doctor that was overseeing Matloff’s case. We waited a few minutes while the nurse went off to find him, tell him what was going on, and bring him back over to us in the waiting area. After we spotted him coming down the hallway, storming his way over to us, JJ and I fixed our postures for the questioning that would ensue.

“What can I do for you agents?” the doctor asked hurriedly. He obviously had other places to be, but when the FBI comes asking for you, that usually trumps everything else.

“We just have a few questions for you about Brian Matloff,” JJ answered.

“What can you tell us about his amnesia?” I asked

The doctor chuckled. “The simple way or the complicated way?”

“Try us,” I squinted at him lightly.

“The patient has Focal Retrograde Amnesia, meaning he doesn’t remember anything from before he woke up this morning. His name, his birthday, his address, that’s all wiped from his memory. His intelligence remains the same, and his ability to form new memories is still intact, but I’m afraid he won’t be much use to you in court.”

“What about his stay here?” JJ asked. “Was there any sign that he’d wake up different, or was he a unique patient in any way?”

The doctor shook his head. “After about two weeks, you always tend to forget about the coma patients unless it’s a check up that you’re assigned to.”

“What about visitors?” I inquired, crossing my arms. I mean, it wasn’t prison. Anyone could come in and visit Matloff. It seemed like at the time of the investigation, he was a pretty “popular” murderer, and there was a fad around obsessing over psychopaths. Someone could have come to visit him. Right?

“Yeah,” the doctor nodded, “he had a visitor every day.”

“Every day?” I scoffed.

“Do you have a visitor log?” JJ asked.

“I’ll grab it for you guys.” He walked over to the desk to look for the log.

I turned to JJ. “Every day for four years?” I inquired. “You only do that if you’re in love or family.”

“So we’re looking for an admirer or someone he’s related to? But I thought his parents disowned him and he doesn’t have any siblings.”

I glanced over my shoulder to see that the doctor was returning with the visitor’s log. “Then we’re either dealing with a crazy fan or…”

“Her name’s Nina Moore,” he told us while handing it over to JJ.

“What does she look like?” I asked.

The doctor shrugged lightly. “Um… I mean… She had dark hair, she was short…”

“Was she white?”

“No. She looked Hispanic or Mediterranean.”

A thought struck me. “Native American?”

The doctor furrowed his brows before nodding vaguely. “Sure.”

JJ gave me a short, acknowledging nod before I stepped to the side to call Hotch. We never knew why Matloff liked Native American culture and mythology so much, but if he was in any way related to this Nina Moore, and if she really was of Native American descent, it made sense. If it could help the case, which it probably could, then we needed to find Nina Moore as soon as possible. Hotch needed to know first.

“Hotch,” I said into the phone when he picked up. “JJ and I found something at the hospital.” There was silence on the other end, but I could tell that he was listening. “There was a woman who visited Matloff every day. Her name’s Nina Moore, and the doctor said that she’s possibly Native American.”

“That’s great. Have JJ call Garcia to find out if you can find her. Cece and I just got to the office with Matloff. We’re about to start his psych eval, if you want to come in.”

I paused. “The judge approved the eval?”

Hotch hummed a, “Yes.”

“You… you motioned for it after I mentioned it?”

“Of course I did.”

I let my eyes fall shut as relief washed over me. He listened. He trusted me. I was so worried that I had stepped on his toes by offering up the idea of the psych eval. After how he responded to that text, I thought that he wasn’t going to listen to me, but he did. I had nothing to worry about. I knew Hotch trusted me, I should’ve known that he would listen. I almost felt stupid.

“I’ll be there as soon as JJ drops me off,” I told him.

“Okay,” he sighed. I could tell how tired he was already. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” It finally felt good to say it back after I was barred from doing it earlier in front of everyone in the bullpen.

When the line went dead, I put my phone away and told JJ that we needed to go. In the car, JJ called Garcia, as planned, to ask her to look for a Nina Moore. The idea was that Garcia would get us some information before we’d get back to the office, which meant that JJ could immediately leave to go seek out a new lead connecting to Nina. Thankfully, Garcia, the goddess she is, got us the information before we even pulled into the parking lot. She called back to let us know that Nina’s last name used to be Genesee. Through her wonderful talent of hacking, she was able to find out that Nina had a baby thirty-seven years ago, around the time Matloff was born, and gave her son up for adoption. When I asked if she had any Native American roots, Garcia chuckled before telling me, “Oh, yeah. She’s obsessed with it.” That was everything we needed.

So when we got to the office, JJ switched to take the driver’s seat, and I headed inside. On my way to the interrogation room down the hall to the left, I could see that Morgan, Reid, Rossi, and Emily were all in the boardroom, sitting around the roundtable, working on putting more of the case and profile together. They were all so nose deep in work that they hadn’t noticed my arrival at Quantico, even after I backpedaled to put my purse under my desk, then headed back out into the hallway.

In the mirror room connected to the interrogation room, I ran into Hotch and a woman with him. Hotch smiled lightly at me when he saw that it was me. The woman in the room didn’t acknowledge me yet, though.

“Y/N, this is Cece Hillenbrand,” Hotch said, pointing to the blonde woman next to him. “Cece, this is Agent Greenaway.” We shook hands and greeted each other with a smile.

“How’s it going in there?” I asked.

“Well, we already performed the eval once, yet nothing happened.”

“He passed?”

Hotch nodded. “I don’t know how.”

“Maybe he really doesn’t remember.”

“It’s possible. I want to run the test again, though.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “However, I want to do something different this time. I don’t like sending you in there with Unsubs who see you as their type, but…” Hotch hesitated while biting the nail on his thumb. “I think that if you sit in there with Matloff while they do the test again, it might…” He sighed and crossed his arms again. “It might arouse him enough that we might be able to get something out of him. But I won’t send you in there unless you—”

“I’ll do it, Hotch.” I stepped to the right and grabbed the handle of the door. “I’ll be fine.” I turned the knob, opened the door, and stepped into the room. As I entered, Matloff craned his neck to look at me. “Hello, Mr. Matloff, I’m Agent Greenaway. I’m going to sit in with you while we run the test again. Is that alright?”

Matloff silently nodded.

I took the seat across from him, just beside the monitor that was set up to show him the crime scene images of his victims. I nodded to the mirror window, a signal for them to start the test again. Just as I heard the slideshow buzz awake, I returned my stare to Matloff. He was watching the monitor intently, but I took note of how his eyes didn’t dilate, and his body didn’t move. Most Unsubs, even if they were trying to hide sexual attraction to their crimes, had an involuntary reaction to shift about uncomfortably. Usually, that had to do with trying to ignore any arousal so that their attraction wasn’t obvious. But not Matloff. He didn’t move a muscle. In fact, his face contorted slightly to show disgust and disapproval towards what he did to his victims. Most obvious, however, was that he didn’t look at me once.

When it was over, Matloff sighed, blinking his eyes dramatically as he looked away from the screen like he was trying to forget what he saw. I squinted at him slightly, trying to put together a profile in my mind. Either he was very good at hiding that he knew about the murders or he genuinely had no idea. My guess was the latter, unfortunately. And when the doctor came in, Matloff didn’t look at her, either, though she was also his type. Something just wasn’t fitting. The profile that the team built up four years ago, and the one we were recreating now wasn’t adding up. Something about Matloff was off.

I stood from my seat with the intent of leaving the room while the doctor detached him from all the different computers he was hooked up to. As I made my way around the table, reaching for the door, Matloff grabbed my arm. I seized up, looking down at him before thinking about trying to pull away. He glanced up at me, both of us ignoring how Hotch burst the door open to get between us. Matloff didn’t let go of me as Hotch tried to pry us apart, though.

“Do I know you?” he asked me. I furrowed my brows. “I mean, did we meet before, when I was still… you know…”

I snatched my arm away from him. “No. We’ve never met.”

Hotch kept his eyes glued to Matloff as I pushed past him in a hurry to leave the room. I didn’t care that he touched me or asked if we had met before, but what irked me was how he didn’t look at me once until I was leaving… and he didn’t appear enthralled at all. He seemed impartial. Interesting, considering his past. Perhaps he really didn’t remember what he did or who he was.

“So?” Hotch asked, closing the door behind us.

I shook my head. “Nothing. He didn’t flinch once. He didn’t even react positively. He seemed disgusted, Hotch. He didn’t look at me, he didn’t move, he didn’t smirk, his eyes didn’t even search the photos. He probably passed the test again.”

Hotch sighed in defeat. “Shit.”

“What does that mean?” Cece asked.

“It means that he really doesn’t remember—” Hotch began.

“Or you got the wrong guy,” I finished.

Cece’s arms fell to her sides for a moment as she came to terms with what she said. Either way, her case was going to fall apart in court very fast. The psych eval wasn’t admissible in court, which was the good news. We didn’t have to use it, but the defense would likely use the results of the eval to push their agenda that Matloff wasn’t involved in the first place.

“It’s been a long day,” Hotch finally spoke up after looking at the time. It was already past four. “We should call it so that we’re well rested for court tomorrow.”

Cece chuckled. She knew that she wasn’t getting sleep, and I knew that Hotch, Morgan, and Reid weren’t going to sleep, either. Even if he sent everyone home, it wouldn’t matter. This was going to eat at them until Matloff was behind bars for good. To my surprise, though, Cece “agreed” to Hotch’s idea. She grabbed her purse from the table behind her, wished us a goodnight, then left. Hotch and I turned back to face the interrogation room where they were getting ready to move Matloff out and take him back to jail.

“You okay?” I asked him, lifting my hand to run my fingers through his hair on the side of his head.

“I will be. At home.”

I nodded agreeingly before reaching back down to take his hand. “Let’s go home, then.”

When we left the mirror room, we stopped holding hands. We made our way back into the BAU so that Hotch could dismiss everyone officially, though they would all probably stay, anyhow. I grabbed my purse from under my desk, and Hotch grabbed his briefcase from his office up the ramp. Everyone wished us a good night as we hurried out.

Nothing was said between us on the way home. The radio was running and Hotch had his hand on my thigh, but we didn’t say anything. I could sense that he just needed quiet for a bit so that he could think. I was willing to do that. Honestly, I needed to think, too. Everything we learned all day was starting to come together in my head. Between finding out that Matloff had amnesia, that someone had gone to visit him every day, then he passed the psych eval, it seemed like the world just kept smacking Hotch in the face.

Hotch pulled into the driveway quietly. As he turned off the ignition, he sighed and slumped back against his seat. I unbuckled myself and turned to look at him. He looked exhausted and defeated, and, honestly, I couldn’t blame him. The day started off well. We got to work, we were happy, things were good. And then he got that call. Brian Matloff woke up and our day went down the drain. We were so busy running around, trying to rebuild a four year old case, and it had entirely worn him out. I didn’t envy him. Tomorrow, it was possible that he would have to testify, or at least start preparing to do so. Not only was our day long, but the next few were going to be hell, too. And all of it rested on Hotch’s shoulders.

“I’ll call in a pizza,” I offered quietly, trying not to disturb the peace he found in the car. He nodded. “Cinnamon knots, too?” He smiled and nodded. “Okay. Come on, Sleeping Beauty.”

We got out of the car slowly and lazily. While we made our way inside the house, I dug out my phone to place the pizza order. Hotch unlocked the door and turned off the alarm. We both fell onto the couch as I dialed the pizza place and waited for them to pick up. Before I could do anything, Hotch trapped me in his arms and pulled me towards him so that I was laying on my side, my back pressed against his chest as we cuddled. I kissed his forearms that were holding my chest to make sure I couldn’t escape. Then the line picked up and I started ordering. Hotch nuzzled his nose into the back of my neck, his breath hot against my skin, making me shiver and smile. I was trying to focus on getting the order right, but all I could think about was how much I loved him and how he never failed to make me swoon with even the smallest gestures like this. He was too precious, too pure to let the world ruin him like it was. This Matloff nonsense was ridiculous. He didn’t deserve it. I was just glad that I could be there to comfort him, and that I had the strength and energy to order a damn pizza when he clearly didn’t.

When I hung up after getting the order in, I put my phone on the coffee table in front of me, then turned over to face Hotch. His eyes were shut peacefully, and he was breathing calmly. He looked so untroubled for once. It didn’t look like the world had just dragged him through the mud all day. And when I brushed a hand through his long hair, he smiled. I kissed his nose gently then closed my eyes as we both hugged each other close. I loved him. So fucking much. The little moments like this always reminded me why all the shit in our lives was still worth it, that there was always a reason to keep fighting. If we didn’t have the shit moments and days, then we wouldn’t have these little moments like this, and what was the point then?

I kissed his cheek before my whole body went limp. I loved him. More than anything. The world didn’t deserve him. I didn’t deserve him.

“You okay?” he asked me softly. Both of our eyes were still shut, but I knew that he could still somehow see that my mind was racing. “I’m sorry I let things get out of hand at Matloff’s eval today.”

I shook my head slightly. “I haven’t even thought about it.”

“Then, what?”

“Sh…” I begged, squeezing him slightly. I just wanted to enjoy the silence a little longer. We could talk while eating. “I love you.”

Hotch kissed me tenderly. It was one of those light kisses that reminded me that he was there and that he loved me, but it wasn’t passionate or hard enough to rile us up. We just wanted to be lazy for a bit. That didn’t make us bad people. I think we had a tendency to forget that not everything was about work and sex. I mean, we obviously loved both. But taking a moment to just relax and be us amidst all the craziness in the world didn’t make us horrible people. In fact, it made us human.

Then the damn doorbell rang. I sighed as I tried to sit up to answer it, but Hotch was being stubborn. He was holding onto me for dear life despite acting like he was asleep. I pecked his cheek a thousand times, earning a wide smile and giggle from him. While he was distracted, I pried his arms off me and hurried over to the door. I grabbed my wallet from my purse next to the door, then paid for the pizza. By the time I turned back towards the living room with the food in hand and the door closed behind me, Hotch was actually sitting up on the couch.

When I tried to just set the box on the table so that I could go get plates and napkins, Hotch wrapped his arms around my waist again, and he pulled me onto his lap. To get back at me for my ticking kisses earlier, Hotch started attacking my neck with his lips. I bit back a laugh. I was trying to protest by standing up, but Hotch held me steady on him, so I finally gave up and turned my face to kiss him. He was caught off guard when I did it. I took the chance to carefully push him back against the couch while we kissed passionately and held each other. I swear, it was worth the sore and chapped lips. Always.

Hotch finally, after we were both breathless, let me pull away. I shifted around on his lap innocently, avoiding any contact that could be viewed as otherwise. I leaned forward and moved the small box of cinnamon knots so that we could get to the pizza underneath. Hotch still wasn’t letting me go to get plates or napkins. Asshole. So that meant things were going to get gross very fast unless he finally gave in. When I offered Hotch a slice, I think that was when he suddenly realized his mistake, because he immediately let me go, and even gently slapped the outside of my thigh to push me towards the kitchen. I glared at him over my shoulder. He smirked and winged his arms over the couch. He was absolutely impossible sometimes. Not jumping his bones every chance I could get felt like a challenge all the time, and he fucking new it.

Finally, when we had plates and napkins, and Hotch pulled me back onto his lap, we started eating. I was sitting on his thighs, my right shoulder facing him and my left shoulder facing the pizza on the table. As we ate, I was watching him out the corner of my eye. He still looked exhausted, but the food was giving him enough energy to keep sitting upright and not suddenly topple over.

“What do you remember about the case?” I asked him. That was what had been on my mind earlier, but I didn’t want to talk about it while we were relaxing. I also knew that I’d drop the topic the second we were done eating. “I mean, besides the facts. How did you feel? What stuck out to you the most? Would it really be so bad if Matloff doesn’t remember and he’s released? Just… what are you thinking?”

Hotch sighed quietly as he chewed on the bite he just took. “You really want to do this right now?”

I nodded. He was going to have to testify eventually, and it was probably better if he sorted all of his thoughts and feelings out beforehand. On the stand, he would have to be cool and collected. He couldn’t show any emotion because our jobs required us to push emotion aside for the sake of getting the truth. He needed to maintain that facade in court. However, if he didn’t discuss it all beforehand, I knew him well enough to know that he could get wound up if there was something on his mind. He could talk to me. Always. No matter what he was feeling or thinking about this, he could tell me.

“It was the first case I ever worked on with Reid. He was new, and he was still trying to prove himself—”

“Reid? Proving himself? Doesn’t sound like him,” I said sarcastically with a smirk.

Hotch pinched my thigh lightly to get me to be quiet. “Morgan and I weren’t close yet, but we respected each other. Our team just wasn’t what it is now. We weren’t…” He hesitated. I wanted him to say it. He could admit it. It wouldn’t kill him to say that we were a family. “We were just different,” he said, opting out of the truth. I tried to hide my slight disappointment. “I remember that the three of us felt bad for the victims, and we were desperate to find answers for them. I even… Honestly, I even felt bad for Matloff when he fell off that building, but that doesn’t excuse what he did. He did kill those girls, I know it, and there are definitely more bodies out there that we couldn’t find. Matloff’s playing a game, I can tell. I think that he’s smart, calculating, and vain. I feel like we shouldn’t let him get away with this, no matter what the eval said.”

“Do you think he’ll kill again if he’s found innocent?”

Hotch nodded and took another bite of his pizza.

As we pulled up to the courthouse, Hotch and I took notice of the media crowd that had gathered on the steps outside. Every major news channel had a van there with a reporter and a camera following everyone who was just trying to get inside. Poor Cece, Hotch’s lawyer friend, was caught in the middle of it while still trying to push through. I wasn’t exactly looking forward to that same adventure just to get into the courthouse for a few hours’ worth of the trial. It was only the first day of Matloff’s trial, which meant that it would be about an hour or so of excusing juror members, then both the prosecution and defense teams would get up in front of the jury to make their opening statements. If we happened to get to witnesses, it would be an absolute miracle. Considering the media frenzy surrounding this case, it was going to take forever just to find suitable juror members, and then to get through the opening statements? What a mess.

Hotch started getting out of the car, but I stopped him by grabbing his hand. I was still staring at all of the reporters on the opposite side of the parking lot, which must have tipped off Hotch about why I stopped him, because he settled back in his seat and kissed my knuckles. My breath sputtered as I tried to calm down against his touch, but I was still nervous about it. The media wasn’t exactly my thing. In our line of work, I liked staying back to do the behind the scenes work. That one time in St. Louis, during the Mill Creek Killer case, that was different, because Gideon and JJ practically forced me to be up there during the media meeting just to lure in the Hollow Man. But this… They knew who Hotch was, and therefore they probably knew who I was. It didn’t take a genius like Reid to figure out that mine and Hotch’s careers were nearly destroyed because of our relationship. Reporters were vultures, and I was sure that they already knew that they were dating, and that was somehow going to be made relevant on the nine o’clock news. Assholes.

He kissed my knuckles again. “Just hold onto me and stay close, okay?” I nodded. “They’re going to try to ask you questions, and they’re going to try to get under your skin in order to get a reaction. Don’t give them the satisfaction, alright?” I nodded again. “Come on,” he invited lightly, tugging at my hand.

We separated for a moment so that we could get out of the car. I raced around to the front where he was waiting for me, holding out his hand, and smiling at me. I took his hand and hugged my side close to his. Before we started towards the stairs, Hotch locked the car. When we were all sorted, Hotch started leading me forwards, though I was reluctant. It was so weird that I wasn’t afraid of sitting in the room with psychopaths like Matloff, yet I couldn’t face a crowd of reporters. That said something about me, didn’t it?

The closer we got, the more reporters started to take notice of our approach. It started with just one, but once they told their camera man to turn around, everyone else took their lead. Hotch and I were immediately surrounded before we even made it onto the steps. He got ahead of me slightly, making sure that his hold on my hand was still there and that I was still pressed against his side. He put his arm out, trying to push through all the microphones and cameras so that I wouldn’t have to. I kept my head low, focusing my gaze on my feet and trying not to trip on Hotch as we shuffled up towards the courthouse. Reporters were screaming in my ear still, though. They were all shouting questions, and cameras were flashing in my eyes, and microphones were bumping into the back of my head. At one point, I thought I heard someone mention Jack. I tried to stop to see who said it, but Hotch kept pulling me along.

When we finally got inside, I sighed with relief, and tripped into Hotch’s shoulder. He caught me and asked, “You alright?”

I giggled and nodded. “Yeah. There’s a reason why JJ always deals with the media and I’m not jealous of her.”

Hotch chuckled. “Fair enough.”

“Thank god you’re here,” Cece cheered, approaching us in a hurry. “Are you ready? We’re starting in a few minutes.”

Hotch nodded, and I followed his lead into the courtroom. The audience seats in the back of the room were surprisingly full. Reid was already sitting down towards the front with two empty seats beside him. It almost looked like he saved them for us. I smiled lightly as we headed over to him and Hotch jokingly asked him if those seats were taken after we startled him somewhat. Reid fixed his hair and gestured for us to sit down.

After a few minutes of sitting in silence, listening to the room talk in whispers, the jury was called in. Everyone fell silent as we watched them file into their seats. When they were done, we were asked to stand for the judge. Hotch slyly took my hand as we stood up. Afterwards, when the judge was seated, he told us to sit, and the prosecution and defense teams started taking their turns asking the jury questions to see who should be excused. By some miracle, time flew by, and not a single member was dismissed. So the opening statements began. Cece stood to go first.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, you’re here today to bring justice to the families of the three beautiful, young women who lost their lives four years ago to a cold blooded, calculating killer. Darci Corbet, Celeste Ferami, April Sotherford. Three women out for a run on the Blue Ridge Parkway trail when they were approached by a park ranger. An employee who abused his authority to lure these women into a secluded area where he could safely perform the act of murder. He strangled them slowly, inflicting maximum suffering and terror, ensuring that he would gain the most pleasure from the kill. He buried them in shallow graves, leaving them turned upside down in the most demeaning position. And then he thought he got away with it. But he didn’t. We caught him. Now, ladies and gentlemen, it is your civil duty to finally bring justice for his three victims. It’s your duty to put this man away once and for all so that he can not hurt anyone else. Thank you for being here, for helping to put an end to this monster’s insanity.”

Cece turned away from the jury to return to her seat. When she sat down, I felt Hotch give my hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Counselor, would the defense like to make its opening statement now or wait ‘til the prosecution rests?” the judge asked.

The defense lawyer stood. “We would like to give our opening statement now, Your Honor.”

“You may begin.”

The lawyer stepped around the table to approach the jury. “Was the murder of the three women found dead in Blue Ridge Parkway a result of the act of murder? Perhaps. Ladies and gentlemen, over the next few days or so, you’re going to be told that my client was responsible for these horrendous deaths, but this is nothing but a theory. There is no eyewitness, no fingerprints, no DNA, no physical evidence tying my client to any of these crimes. None. Not even a murder weapon. Not one shred of hard evidence.”

I squeezed Hotch’s hand. This was what we feared most. We tried and tried to get something, to find new evidence, but there was nothing. Of course the defense was going to base their argument around that. It was the obvious out. But Cece was still going to fight like hell, and Hotch wasn’t going to let Matloff get away with it. We still had time to find something. JJ was still looking for Nina Moore, which meant that we could possibly have a new lead soon.

“The only way that they can tie my client to these crimes is through the pseudo-science called profiling. That’s not evidence, ladies and gentlemen. That’s grasping at straws to put an innocent man away in prison. All I ask of you, the jury, is to keep an open mind over the next few days. Recognize that there are people rushing to close this case, and they will pin it on my innocent client if they must. That is all.”

“Thank you, Counselor,” the judge said. “Prosecution, you may call your first witness.”

“The prosecution would like to call Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner to the stand,” Cece said to the court.

I looked over at Hotch. I didn’t think we’d get to witnesses yet— and I especially didn’t anticipate that Hotch was already going to testify. I thought we had a little more time. He told me that he was prepared for it, but I was still caught off guard by it. It was as though he expected it, however, because Hotch untangled our fingers, and he stood to walk up to the stand.

After being sworn in, Hotch took a seat, adjusted his suit, cleared his throat, and looked up at Cece to signal that she could begin questioning him. Cece stepped around the table she had been sitting at and neared the center of the court.

“Agent Hotchner, could you please state your full name and title for the court?” Cece began her questioning, going easy so that Hotch could get comfortable up there first.

“Aaron Hotchner. I’m a Supervisory Special Agent for the Behavioral Analysis Unit at the FBI in Quantico.”

“And what does the Behavioral Analysis Unit do, Agent?”

“We took at the psychological aspect of suspects in order to catch them. We look at behavior, victimology, the suspect’s Modus Operandi, and linkage analysis.”

“What is linkage analysis?”

“It’s the process in which my team and I attempt to link all of the behaviors between crime scenes in order to prove that one person is responsible, and from there we can determine who is responsible.”

“So, through the process of linkage analysis, you and your team concluded that all three of these murders had been committed by one man.”

Hotch nodded. “Yes, that’s correct.”

“And that man was the defendant, Brian Matloff?”

“Yes.”

“Can you tell us how you came to that conclusion, Agent Hotchner?”

Hotch looked over at me for a brief moment before answering Cece’s question. “Four years ago, along with Agents Reid and Morgan, we began to analyze the behavior of the unknown subject, which we refer to as the Unsub. We took into account the behaviors that led up to the murders, during the murders, and following at the murders. Through that analysis, we were able to create a profile that allowed us to generate a suspect pool, which we could eventually use to narrow down to one Unsub. By assessing what we knew about the victims, the crime scenes, and the behaviors, we were able to conclude that the Unsub was in a position of power, like being a park ranger at Blue Ridge Parkway. Because of how the bodies were buried, we could tell that he was not only a ranger, but he was going back to the scene to relive the experience to gain gratification of either the sexual or sadistic nature. Once we had concluded that he was a park ranger, all of the evidence began to make sense, which then led us straight to Brian Matloff.”

“Well, how did you come to the direct conclusion that it was the defendant? I imagine that there are thousands of people who work for the park service. How were you able to narrow your suspect pool, as you put it?”

“Our technical analyst, Penelope Garcia, helped us narrow down the search. We knew that his knowledge of the forest was extensive, which meant that he wasn’t recently employed. We also knew that he knew the area and path around the waterfall well enough to know where to hide the bodies so that they wouldn’t be found, which meant that he was mostly stationed in that area. The last thing we checked for was which of the park rangers was injecting themselves into our investigation. Most of the rangers wanted the whole thing to go away, so they went on as normal, but Brian Matloff was constantly hovering and prying for answers that we couldn’t give him.”

“Couldn’t he have just been a concerned worker and citizen?”

“At first, we were also skeptical, but once we delivered our profile to his co-workers, they reassured us that he fit the same behaviors that we were looking for.”

“So, after deciding on the defendant as a lead suspect, what did you and your team do?”

“We decided to go speak with him at his mother’s home, but she told us that he had left earlier with ‘a lady friend’. We tracked him down to a secret apartment he had. We took a SWAT team with us because we were under the impression that he had a hostage or another victim. When we tried to get him to open the door, that was when we realized that he had started climbing through the fire escape. When Agent Morgan pursued him, that was when Matloff jumped.”

“And the woman that was thought to be with him?”

“We never found her… But we believe that he killed her and disposed of her remains somewhere.”

Cece nodded at Hotch before looking to the judge, “No further questions, Your Honor.” Cece walked back to her seat at the prosecution’s table.

“Would the defense like to cross examine the witness?” the judge asked.

The defense attorney stood. “Yes, Your Honor.”

“You may begin.”

“Agent Hotchner, in your report of the night that my client attempted to run away from the police, you called that ‘a strong indicator of his guilt’. Were you aware that he had an outstanding warrant at the time of his arrest?”

“Yes,” Hotch answered.

“So, isn’t it possible that Mr. Matloff fled, not because he was guilty of murder, but because he was guilty of the outstanding warrant?”

“There were eight law enforcement officers in bullet proof vests standing outside his door. I doubt that any reasonable person would—”

“A simple yes or no answer will suffice.”

Hotch bit his bottom lip briefly. He was getting a little worked up, but he was holding it back. “Yes, it’s possible.”

“Right. And you say that it was your team’s profile that led you to my client’s door in the middle of the night—”

“A behavioral analysis profile was a factor in our investigation, yes, but there were more factors involved.”

“Such as?”

Hotch fell short. We still didn’t have any physical evidence, and there weren’t any witnesses tying Matloff to the scene. While there was always more that went into a case than just a dumbed down profile that people would see in a report, it was hard to explain to people outside of the job. Most people didn’t understand what it took to work for the BAU. Being smart and fit was part of it, of course, but being able to put together clues that weren’t really there was sometimes part of it, too. It sounded like what happened with Matloff was a case of putting things together that weren’t tangible, while not thinking the future, like this, through ahead of time. It explained why Hotch was more careful nowadays.

The defense lawyer moved on, realizing that he wasn’t going to get an answer out of Hotch, which only helped prove his case. “These behavioral analysis profiles are what your unit in the FBI does, correct?”

“Yes.”

“You use this formula for every case you work on?”

“Yes.”

“You used this same formula for cases like the Olympic Park Bombings in Atlanta?”

“Yes.”

“And was that suspect that you identified, Richard Jewell, ever convicted of those bombings?”

“Objection,” Cece called from her seat. “Relevance?”

“Goes to the credibility of the witness and his field.”

“I’ll allow it,” the judge nodded.

Hotch’s lip pursed. That hit a nerve, I could tell. “No, he was not convicted.”

“Why was that?” the lawyer asked.

“Because the real suspect, Eric Rudolph, attempted another bombing while Jewell was in custody.”

“So you profiled the wrong man.”

“No. Our profile was dead on; we just had the wrong man.”

The lawyer scoffed. “And how about the Baton Rouge Killer? Your unit said that he was white and living in the city. He was black and from the suburbs. You said that the B.T.K Killer, Dennis Rader, was divorced and impotent. He was married with children. So, Agent Hotchner, was it possible that you profiled the wrong man this time, too?”

Hotch didn’t waver. He answered with his stone-cold glare and said, “No.”

“The truth is,” the lawyer turned to the jury, “behavioral analysis is just intellectual guesswork. You probably couldn’t tell me the color of my socks with any greater accuracy than a carnival psychic.”

I swear, if I weren’t in a court, I would have leapt out at that man and strangled him then and there myself. I knew that it was his job to practically tear down Hotch’s reputation in order to prove his case, but… my blood was boiling. He didn’t have what it took to be a part of the BAU. Hell, he didn’t have what it took to even be a part of the FBI. For him to look Hotch in the eye while saying all of that made me angry. Hotch was great at his job. He was the best of the best. He had been working tirelessly for decades to get where he was in his career. It wasn’t fucking guesswork. We trained and worked to learn how to profile. In a way, it was an art. Not just anyone could wander in one day and say: “I want to be a profiler.” It took more than that. It took training, education, and time. That was why it took me so damn long to get into the BAU in the first place.

The lawyer turned away from Hotch so that he could smirk to himself at his little victory. I caught him, though, as he looked up and made eye contact with me. My face was just as stone-cold as Hotch’s, but my eyes were telling a different story. Honestly, I looked like I wanted to kill him. I hardly knew him, yet I wanted to dance circles around his grave. I knew that Hotch was the protective one in our relationship, but there was something about the way that lawyer talked to him that made me want to—

“Charcoal gray,” Hotch spoke up plainly.

The lawyer’s smirk disappeared as he spun back around. “What?”

“Your socks.”

He chortled. “Well, you got one right.”

Hotch glanced over to me again, and I shifted in my seat when I felt myself grow hot. There was a look in his eyes that countered mine. While I was seeing red, he was still calm, collected, and sophisticated. He was even trying to hide a smirk. That was how he always looked when he knew that he was going to get the best of me. That look… it made my knees weak, and he knew it. That was why he glanced over in the first place.

“You match them to the color of your suit,” he said as he slowly looked back over at the lawyer, “to appear taller. You also wear lifts and you’ve had your soles replaced multiple times. One might think you’re frugal, but in reality, you’re broke. The Rolex on your wrist is a fake because you’ve already pawned the real one to pay off your debts, and you don’t want anyone to know, especially your family, because then they’d find out about your gambling addiction. I can tell you exactly what kind of gambling, too.” He shot me a quick glance. I hid my flushed face as I looked down at the ground. “Your vice is horses. Your Blackberry’s been buzzing on the table every twenty minutes, which happens to be the average time between posts from colonial downs. You’re getting race results…” I bit my lip and sank in my chair. “And every time you do, it affects your mood in court, and you’re not having a very good day. That’s because you pick horses the same way you practice law— by always taking the long shot.”

I gulped and tried to stop moving my thighs that were rubbing together for friction under my dress. I knew I made a mistake putting on Hotch’s favorite dress. I hadn’t worn it since the flight to St. Louis because it only got me in trouble the last time, but I thought that since it was a special occasion and we weren’t going into work, it would be nice. But now I could feel exactly how wet I was getting against the wooden seat beneath me, and I was cursing myself for rolling the skirt up to appear shorter, just like I always did. I was such an idiot.

“If I’m not mistaken, the results from the fifth race should be coming through any minute.”

And like clockwork, the lawyer’s phone started to buzz on the table. I looked up through my lashes to see that Hotch was grinning slightly at me. He knew what he did, that asshole. Not only had he gotten to the lawyer, but he had gotten to me, too. Fuck.

“Why don’t you tell us if your luck has changed,” Hotch concluded.

The lawyer tensed. His posture changed, his hands buried themselves into his pocket, and he cleared his throat uncomfortably. Well, if only my whole job weren’t a sham, I could have told him that his behavior meant that Hotch was right, and he was embarrassed at the profile that had been given in front of the entire court. Oh, wait. I had enough training and knowledge to make even the simplest of deductions about that man. He wasn’t unique, he wasn’t hard to read, he wasn’t special. Honestly, Hotch shouldn’t have wasted his breath profiling him in the first place, but I was glad he did, anyhow.

“No further questions, Your Honor,” the lawyer croaked, picking up his phone and stuffing it in his pocket.

“Very well. The court will be adjourned until 9AM tomorrow.” The judge banged the gavel down, and everyone moved to disperse.

Hotch came down off the stand, brushing past the lawyer without another glance or word. I stood from my seat carefully, testing to see if my knees could support me. It would have been embarrassing if I just toppled over then and there. Hotch reached out for my hand when he was close enough, and he started pulling me into the hallway outside the courtroom. I chased after him, having to skip a few steps just to keep up. When we made it out of the room, he stopped, pulled me into a sudden hug, picked me up off my feet, and spun me around. I giggled into his shoulder before he set me down carefully.

I looked at him when we parted. “Home. Now.”

“We have to go back to the office—”

“We’ll call them.” I pulled at his red tie around his neck slightly, making it look like an innocent and simple adjustment. “Please, Sir,” I whispered.

Hotch licked his lips as he looked around the hallway to make sure that no one heard. “We call them first.” I nodded. “You’ll behave until we get home.” I nodded. “Okay.” He grabbed my hand again and started pulling me out of the courthouse again.

The media was still there, and they were still pressing for questions, but Hotch and I ignored them as we made our way through. While it felt like an eternity to get into the courthouse originally, it felt like we practically teleported out. We rushed to the car. Hotch already had his phone out, and he was calling Morgan for an update. He put the phone on speaker as it dialed. I anxiously pulled at my seatbelt as Hotch started pulling out of the spot we were parked in.

Morgan picked up. “Out of court already?”

“Just finished the cross examination,” Hotch replied.

“How’d it go?”

“It went fine. What’s the update at the office?”

“We’ll just tell you when you get here,” Morgan insisted from a distance, like he was occupied with something else.

“We’re not coming in.”

Morgan scoffed, “Hotch, it’s only noon.”

“Yeah, I know, but Y/N isn’t feeling well, so we’re just going to head home.”

I glared at him, but he smirked at me.

“Okay,” Morgan sighed. “JJ and Rossi found Matloff’s birth mother. They’re there now, trying to talk to her about him and see if she’ll come forward as any kind of witness. Not much else has happened around her, unfortunately. We’re searching high and low, but it’s just like four years ago, we can’t find anything useful. Hopefully, his mom will have something that will pin him to the crimes.”

Hotch took a sharp right turn, making me grab onto the ceiling handle. He apologized quietly to me before continuing with Morgan, “Alright, well, just keep us updated. Send me a text when JJ and Rossi are done at the mother’s.”

“You got it. Tell Y/N to feel better.”

I hit a smirk by looking out the window. Hotch took a moment to clear his throat, also trying to mask the irony of Morgan’s comment that was making us snicker. “I will,” Hotch said calmly. “We’ll talk later.” And then he hung up the phone and threw it in the cup holder. “I told you to behave,” he said to me.

“I didn’t do anything!” I shouted defensively with a smile. “You can’t blame me this time.”

“I can and I am.” Hotch was trying to hide a playful smile. The longer I looked at him, though, the more he started to crack. “I love you, Y/N,” he admitted before he could let his smile shine through.

I grabbed his hand from the steering wheel and kissed his knuckles gingerly. “I love you, too.”

We pulled up to the house and I started to get excited about what was to come. The second we were in the door, I pushed him against the wall. I kicked the door closed behind me using my foot, and I ignored the ringing alarm just for a few moments so that I could get a hold on his tie and pull him in for a lustful kiss. When my lips were on his, Hotch grabbed my face and leaned over me to kiss me harder. Suddenly, he was pushing me backwards into the wall behind me, and while still kissing me and fighting for dominance with his tongue, Hotch stuck out his right hand and blindly searched for the alarm. He turned it off, then moved his hand to cup my neck. I moaned as he pinned me roughly against the wall. He parted from my lips and started panting.

“Why—”

“What you did on the stand…” I tried to kiss him again, but he tightened his grip around my neck, keeping me pinned. “I don’t know… I just…” I licked my lips. “It was hot, baby.”

His eyes turned a dark, lustful black as he smirked. “Yeah?”

I nodded. “Yes, Sir. Please.” I wiggled, trying to create friction between my legs while simultaneously trying to touch him.

“Stay still,” he demanded. I could practically see him transition into Dom space, and in return, I immediately fell into sub space. I did as he asked, holding myself back from moving, and he released me. I watched impatiently, yet still obediently, as he reached for the tie around his neck and started pulling it off. “I wore my lucky tie for you today,” he told me. I had recognized that move when he got dressed in the morning, but I didn’t think that he’d say anything about it. He only wore it now and again when he needed good luck or there was a special occasion. It was the kind of day that needed luck and celebration, I supposed. “And I couldn’t stop thinking about doing this to you.” He grabbed my wrists and tied them together. I whimpered as he pulled it as tight as he could. “Quiet.” I nodded. “Good girl.” He raised my arms over my head, and he hung my tied wrists on one of the coat hooks on the wall. “Keep them there.” I nodded again, and he kissed me as a reward. “My good girl.” I bit back a moan. “Tug gently.” I did so, pulling my hands a bit to test the strength of the hooks in order to get a feel of how hard I could squirm without ripping the panel of hooks out of the wall. “Is that okay?” I nodded. “Good girl,” he complimented again while kissing my neck. I tugged again involuntarily, wanting to just reach out and touch his hair. “What was hot about me today, baby? You can talk.”

I let out a moan that had been building in my chest before I did anything else. Hotch smirked against my skin, then bit down gently to start leaving a hickey. “The way you talked to him— talked down on him. The way you silently profiled him, and then you—” I gasped when his hands cupped my breasts and started lightly massaging them. “Then you—” My knees buckled as he reached under my dress to unclasp my bra, then slid his hands under my bra so that he could pinch my nipples. “Sir—”

“Don’t stop.”

“I can’t…”

“Yes, you can. Keep going. What did you like about how I talked to him?”

I hesitated, trying to not think about the way he was pinching and rolling my nipples between his fingers. “You… You were so calm, so collected… Just like you are now…” I bucked my hips forward when he pulled at my nipples slightly. “I’ve never seen you profile like that… Like it was fun…”

He smirked and slid his hands out from under my dress. “Do you want to know what I think about you?’ I gulped as he let out a low, wicked chuckle that came from his throat, and he got incredibly close to my face, however, he didn’t touch me yet. “I know that you’re always a needy little whore for me. Always. I know that every time you look at me, your pupils dilate, and I can tell that you’re thinking about having me fuck you so hard you see stars. I know that you’d be on your knees right now, choking on my cock, if I asked you to. But I also know that you like to be a little brat all the time because you like getting me riled up so that I punish you. I know you whine, moan, and beg for mercy, but you secretly like it when I edge or deny you. I know that you’ll pull and tug at any restraints I put you in, but you’ll never actually put your full force into it because you like being a helpless slut.” He grabbed my neck. “I know that you like when I do this…” he whispered into my ear as he squeezed. I threw my head back, giving his hand more access and him a clearer view of what he was doing so that he would know not to go too far. “I know that you liked how I talked to that man today because I degraded him, and you like being degraded, too, don’t you?” I struggled against the restraints slightly in response. “Oh, yeah. I know I hit the mark. You want to know how I know? Because I’m good at what I do, and you’re obvious.” He released my neck, and I gasped for air. “I know that I haven’t even touched you, yet you’ve probably already soaked through your panties.” He grabbed my thighs roughly. He took a moment to make sure that I had caught my breath, then pushed my thighs open until my feet shuffled to shoulder width apart. When I was spread for him, he reached down to cup my heat with his palm to feel how I had soaked my panties, just as he had suspected. “Hmmm…” he moaned in my ear, “called it.” Within an instant, he yanked my panties down, helping me step out of them carefully, however. “Open,” he demanded once he had my panties crumpled in his palm. I opened my mouth and he suddenly shoved my panties in. “Do you taste how wet I made you?”

I moaned a, “Yes, Sir,” behind my gag, and my knees buckled, the coat hook barely catching me.

“Stand up straight, slut.” He grabbed my neck again and pulled me up. “Stay like that.” His hand returned to below my dress, and without warning, he thrust two of his fingers into me. I screamed behind the gag. “You scream when you know you shouldn’t moan; did you know that? You do it whenever you’re ashamed to admit that you enjoy what I’m doing to you.” He curled his fingers inside me, and I bit down on the gag to make sure I wouldn’t scream again. He chuckled, “And you get quiet when you don’t want to be punished.” He squinted. “What would I have to punish you for? Hmmm? Being a needy whore?” He hit my g-spot on purpose. “For jumping me the second we get into the house? For wearing this dress today and thinking that I wouldn’t notice? Let me tell you something. I gave that profile because all I could think about was getting home and torturing you all afternoon, so I just wanted to get out of there as fast as possible.” His thumb found my clit and started playing with it at an unrelenting pace. “And now that we’re here—” I screamed again when I felt my orgasm approaching, and it was getting extremely hard to stay up on my feet. I wanted to collapse again, but Hotch was glaring at me with a dare to try it. “Cum now and I’ll leave you like this all night.” My eyes pouted. “You better hold it.”

“Sir—”

“No.”

I whined, trying to hold still to prevent added stimulation. My walls clenched around his fingers, my stomach tightened, and I held onto his tie around my wrists to pray that I wouldn’t tip over the edge. Hotch had other plans, though. He worked harder to make me cum His fingers kept curling against my g-spot, his bicep bulging in his shirt to show all the effort he was going to in order to keep pumping his fingers in and out of me at an ungodly pace.

“Hold it for twenty seconds while I count, and I’ll let you cum.”

I nodded, screwing my eyes shut so that I could concentrate. “Yes, Sir.”

Hotch started counting backwards from twenty. He went slow and steady, watching me intently as I tried so hard not to fall apart. Trying not to cum around him while also putting energy into staying on my feet was nearly impossible, even when he got to ten. And he slowed down his counting even further. The asshole was taking about two to three seconds between every count, and I was so close to the fucking edge. I could practically feel myself already tipping over by five, but I kept trying to hold on for as long as I could.

“Three…” His thumb on my clit changed direction and pace, making me scream out again. “Two…” He hit my g-spot again. “One…” I just had to wait for the order. Any second now. I was about to tip over. “Cum.”

I came for him as he said it. My knees buckled again, and I kept screaming behind the gag, cursing his name over and over again. My walls tightened even further somehow, my legs shook, my arms pulled against the coat rack holding me back, and I felt my breath leave my lungs. Hotch pulled my panties out of my mouth. Before I could say anything, his lips were back on mine. He swallowed each of my moans as he continued to fuck me through my high. When I was done, though, and my body gave out, Hotch slowed his fingers.

“Good girl,” he whispered, somehow just as breathless as I was. I let my head fall forward onto his shoulder while he slid his fingers out of me. “Suck,” he demanded, shrugging his shoulder to lift my head. Exhausted, I looked up at him and let him shove his wet fingers into my mouth. “My good cum slut.” I moaned around his fingers. “You okay?” I nodded. He pulled his hand away. “Can you stand?”

I chuckled and shook my head. “Once you let me down, I think I’ll fall.”

He snickered, “I’ll catch you.” He wrapped one of his arms around me while he reached up to pull my arms off the coat hook. As my tied wrists fell in front of me, Hotch caught me, just like he promised. “Did I get my profile right?” he laughed.

I hit his shoulder with my clasped fists. “That’s the only time I’ll ever let you profile me.”

“They say while shaking against me after screaming my name.”

I hit him again. “I could profile you, too, you know.”

“Mhm, you’ll have to do that after this,” he said before throwing me over his shoulder easily. I tried to protest, but my hands were still tied, and he spanked my ass when I tried to kick at him. I felt Hotch’s phone buzz against my hip, though, as we made our way upstairs. Hotch waited until I was sitting on the bed to check what was going on. “JJ and Rossi said that Matloff sent her the victims’ jewelry.”

My eyes widened. “Will she testify?”

Hotch nodded. “Yeah.”

“Come here,” I coaxed him towards me. Hotch threw his phone on the bed and leaned over me. I draped my tied wrists over his head, trapping them around his neck so that he couldn’t escape me. “I love you.”

Hotch leaned in for a kiss. “I love you, too.” And then he pushed me back onto the mattress.

In court the following morning, Hotch met up with Cece early to review the new evidence the team found. They also discussed the questions they were going to throw at Matloff’s mother. It sounded like we really had a good, winning case. That was a relief, at least. After yesterday's fiasco, we were on a winning high, but we needed to maintain that momentum. Bringing this new evidence forward was going to throw the defense for a loop, which meant that they would need time to examine the evidence themselves and prepare questions for Nina. Ultimately, that just meant that we would spend about thirty minutes setting up the court, another thirty reviewing the trial thus far, then the prosecution would get to start questioning Matloff’s mother. That was it. Short and sweet. Impactful. This was going to bury Matloff.

Hotch kissed me in the hallway outside the courtroom before he went in with Cece. Since he was part of the prosecution team (somehow), he got to sit up front with Cece this time, unlike yesterday, when he sat back in the crowd with me. I sat in the first row, just behind him. Just as anticipated, the first hour came and went without anything of interest, but then Cece was called to invite her next witness to testify.

“The prosecution would like to call Mrs. Nina Moore to the stand,” Cece said after standing from her seat at the table.

Everyone turned to watch as a woman sitting in the back of the courtroom stood. She was a tiny woman in every way, but she fit the description of Matloff's ideal targets. Slim, tiny, brunette, brown eyes women. It suddenly made sense why he hunted victims with that appearance because they were surrogates for his mother. His obsession with Native American culture stemmed from her, and when she turned him away (the stressor), he took it out on women who mirrored her image. If only they had that for the profile four years ago, or even a few days prior to her taking the stand. Would’ve been a huge help.

After being sworn in, Nina took a seat so that Cece could begin questioning her. Cece immediately dove in with, “Can you please state your name for the court?”

“Nina Moore.”

“And what is your relationship to the defendant?”

“I’m his birth mother,” Nina admitted. “I gave him up for adoption when he was a baby.”

“And that was how long ago?”

“Thirty-seven years.”

“So, you didn’t have a relationship with him?”

“No. I never saw him until 2003.”

“How did that happen?”

“He found me,” Nina whispered, looking down at her hands. “He wanted to learn about his heritage, my family. We met at a café, talked for a bit, then he left.”

“You talked about your family?”

“Yes.”

“What specifically?”

“He said he wanted to come home, to be a part of my family. But I told him that I couldn’t do that.”

“You felt that he was being irrational.”

“No, not at all. I just thought that he was a little lost. He wanted to belong to something.” Her voice started to crack as she suppressed the cry bubbling in her chest. “Turning him away was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do!”

“Mrs. Moore, did the defendant ever try to contact you after that?” Cece asked, trying to get back on topic.

“Yes. He sent me something in the mail.”

“What was it?”

“A necklace. Two months later, I got another one. Then two months after that, I got a watch. I thought he was trying to persuade me with gifts or something. I never imagined…” She fell short of admitting the truth to the court.

“Your Honor,” Cece began, making her way back to her table, “I’d like to enter into evidence People’s Exhibits ‘F’ through ‘H’.” She picked up the bags of evidence and brought them back over to Nina on the stand. “Are these the items that you received in the mail?”

“Yes.”

“And this watch that you see in this bag, do you also see it in this photo?” she asked while holding up both pieces of evidence.

Nina froze. “Yes, that’s it.”

“Let the record show,” Cece said, turning towards the jury, “that the watch worn in this photograph of the third murder victim, Darci Corbet, was the same watch that the witness received from the defendant in the mail.” Cece put the evidence down. “I have no further questions, Your Honor.”

“Thank you, Counselor. Court will resume tomorrow morning at 9AM for cross examination of the witness,” the judge said, banging his gavel.

As we were all dismissed, and I stood to greet Hotch, I was taken aback when he walked over to Matloff’s table to look at something after he had been taken back into custody. My eyes followed Hotch, confusion washing over me. What did he see over there that was of interest? I didn’t understand. So I tried whispering his name to catch his attention, but he didn’t look at me. Cece and I exchanged a glance, and we both shrugged. I hissed Hotch’s name again, this time getting him to look at me. He went back to his seat at the prosecution’s table, grabbed his things, reached over the median to grab my hand, and started dragging me out of the courtroom.

“Hotch,” I called his name again quietly as we entered the hallway, “what is it?”

“I think that Matloff is getting his memories back,” Hotch said eagerly.

Cece and I exchanged another confused glance. When I looked back at Hotch, I asked, “What makes you think so?”

“I looked at the notepad in front of him during the trial today, and there were tears on it.”

“So?” Cece questioned.

“You don’t have that kind of reaction unless you’re connected,” Hotch explained.

If what he was saying about the tears, then it was true. I mean, I had my suspicions concerning his behavior in court, but I was never sure, especially considering how his evaluation the other day went. I thought that he genuinely didn’t remember anything and didn’t have any more sadistic tendencies because of how he passed that test. But Hotch was right, something was off. It was possible that Matloff was getting his memories back. If that were the case, then we needed to speak with him or the guards protecting him immediately to see if there was any new information we could use.

“I’ll go talk to the guards to see if they’ve noticed anything weird about his behavior, or if he’s mentioned anything about getting his memory back,” I offered. Hotch nodded, agreeing that it was a good idea. I started making my way down the hallway where Matloff was taken so that he could get changed back into his prison clothes. I flashed my badge to the court official standing guard outside, and he let me through without hesitation. “Thanks,” I whispered, moving past him carefully. I turned the corner and came to a sudden halt when I bumped into someone. “Sorry,” I apologized. When I looked up, I realized that I had run into Matloff, who was holding a gun. I reached for my weapon in my holster, but he already had his pointed at my temple. “Okay,” I mumbled, surrendering my hands. “Okay.”

“Don’t scream or try anything,” he demanded gruffly, grabbing my gun from my hip.

“Okay,” I agreed again.

“Walk quietly and calmly with me outside.” He pushed me towards the emergency exit down the hallway. With my hands still raised, I led the way towards the door. “Do you have a car?”

“I drove here with my boyfriend.”

“That’ll work.”

I pushed the door open. An alarm started ringing, triggering Matloff to push me out faster. With the gun pressed to my back, we hurried through the parking lot, avoiding detection from the media since we were leaving through a backdoor, and they were focused on finding out what the alarm was at the front door. I led Matloff to Hotch’s car, and he made me get into the driver’s seat while he got into the passenger’s.

“Your cellphone,” Matloff gestured with the gun before pointing it in my face again. “Throw it out the window.” I silently cursed him for having enough brains to realize that Hotch would try to call or track me through it the second he noticed I was gone. “Now!” he yelled at me when I didn’t move. I nodded vigorously, grabbing my phone from my pocket. I rolled the window down and threw my phone out a ways to make sure the car wouldn’t crush it. “Start driving.”

“Where?” I asked calmly.

“Blue Ridge Parkway.”

I screwed my eyes shut. That wasn’t good news for me. Matloff clearly had his memories back— if he even lost them in the first place. He obviously had his urge for murder back, at least, which meant that taking me to Blue Ridge Parkway was going to be his end game. Kill the fed, and he won. Even if he got caught, killing a cop— especially a fed— was the most impressive and respectable thing anyone could do when it came to prison rep. Matloff would be a saint on the inside. Great.

No one noticed us pull out of the parking lot. No one stopped us on our way out there, either. I thought that Hotch would have had the whole city on lock down, every street blocked off, and Blue Ridge Parkway under surveillance. Yet, no one was out there. Matloff opened the glove compartment as we pulled up to the trail, and he grabbed the extra pair of handcuffs that Hotch and I kept in there. He told me to put them on, which was probably just to make sure that I wouldn’t try anything still. He most likely knew who I was considering all the time I spent in the courtroom with him, and how clingy I was with Hotch. If he wanted to make sure I wouldn’t try to stop him, restraining me was the best way to do that. He had thought this through.

“You have your memories back, don’t you?” I asked as we got out of the car. I figured I could at least know the truth before he’d inevitably shoot me. “Or did you have them this whole time?”

Matloff was calm as we started walking down the path together. He didn’t walk ahead of me or behind me, just at my side a few feet away. Both of the guns he now had weren’t pointed at me, either. The one he stole from me was tucked in the back of his waistband, the one he stole from the guard swinging at his side as we walked. He probably knew that I wouldn’t try to run considering it would be foolish to run away from a serial killer with a gun. However, what he failed to realize was that I wasn’t going to run because I noticed something else. Matloff had always been off to me. Always. Since meeting him, I knew that something was wrong. But, now, as we were walking down the path where he preyed on his other victims, it seemed like his focus wasn’t on me. He was intent on getting somewhere. Even if he was going to kill me, that was going to follow whatever he wanted to find or do. I wasn’t going to run because I was curious. I wanted to know what the hell was so important to escape jail, kidnap a fed, and return to his crime scenes for.

“My memories,” he started explaining quietly, “started coming back last night. They’re in bits and pieces, and they come in hot flashes… I see what I did— who I was, and I hate it.”

“Then why do this?”

Matloff looked over at me. “Because I have to know the truth.”

“About how you strangled those three women?”

Matloff didn’t respond to my question. All he said was, “I’m sorry for scaring you and doing all of this.” I cocked a brow. “I just couldn’t let you stop me.”

“Stop you from coming out here? Why? Where are we going, Matloff?”

“Linville Falls,” Matloff said, looking up at the running waterfall we just approached. We came to a slow and steady halt as we both admired it for a moment. It was so beautiful and peaceful out there. I finally understood why he liked it so much, but it still didn’t answer why we were there. Before I could ask again, though, Matloff said, “You can go now, if you want. I won’t stop you. I promise.” He moved the gun he was holding in his hand to his waistband. I watched as he stepped off the path and started trudging through the mud and tall grass to get to something in the distance. “Go on,” he insisted, sensing that I was still watching him.

I didn’t move, though. I knew I should’ve made a run for it, or at least tried to disarm him, but I didn’t. He hadn’t told me why we were out there yet, and I didn’t know what he was looking for out in the field under the waterfall. But my interest was piqued when he got down on his knees and started digging through the dirt with his hands like a mad man.

I stepped into the tall grass, making my way over to him cautiously. He was still a threat, though he had proven that he had no interest in killing me. If I disturbed whatever he was doing, he still could’ve shot me or punched me or something. I knew that I had to be careful and maintain a safe distance.

And then we both froze when his hands hit something in the ground. I stumbled back a slight step when I saw a corpse emerging as he kept digging. Hotch suspected that there had been more victims, but he could never prove it… Yet there we were. Matloff was digging up a dead body and I was just watching like an idiot.

“Who… Who is that?” I asked.

Matloff sniffled as he pulled it out of the grave. “The first woman I ever killed.” He looked up at me with red eyes. He was crying. “I told you I had to know the truth… I wasn’t sure if I really killed those women until we got here, and it suddenly all came back to me.” He sat down on his tailbone and cradled the corpse. “This isn’t who I am anymore… I just had to make sure that you wouldn’t tell anyone before I could come out here to make sure it was real. I wasn’t convinced until just then when my fingers hit her skull.” He let out a sob. “I’m so sorry.”

“Matloff,” I crouched down, “are there other bodies out here?”

He shook his head. “It was just her.”

“Y/N!” Hotch called from the tree line.

I glanced over my shoulder to see him and Reid approaching with a SWAT team hot on their heels. “Wait!” I raised my cuffed hands in the air, waving them around to signal for them to stop. “It’s fine!” I yelled after noticing that they were all aiming their weapons at Matloff. “Don’t shoot!” Reid and Hotch slowed down, gesturing for the SWAT team to hold back. “He’s not a threat!”

With Hotch’s weapon still raised at Matloff, he carefully approached. “Brian Matloff, put your hands where I can see them.”

“Hotch—” I tried to protest, but Reid grabbed my shoulders and pulled me out of the way.

“Hands, Brian!”

“Stop there, please!” Matloff yelled back. “Just give me a minute… please…”

“I can’t do that, Brian.”

“Who is she?” Reid asked me quietly.

I glanced at him quickly before looking back at Matloff and Hotch. “She was his first.”

Hotch heard me, his shoulders falling slightly before he remembered to keep his steady stance. “Just put her down, Brian. Don’t make this any harder than it already is.”

“I’m sorry,” Matloff cried quietly. “I’m so sorry…”

“Maybe you are, but you still have to pay for what’s been done.”

Matloff scoffed as he pulled one of the guns from his waistband. “I might as well just die right here… They’re going to put me on death row, anyhow. What’s the point?”

“You don’t know that,” I said, stepping forward again, despite Reid and Hotch’s protests. I stumbled through the grass, praying that I wouldn’t trip while my hands were still cuffed because I wouldn’t be able to save my fall. “The jury might not put you on death row. They might see your new slate— your innocence.” I carefully kneeled beside him, ignoring the corpse in his arms and the way he was waving the gun around aimlessly. “Matloff, look at me.” He did so. “You can still prove that you’re a good man. You could have killed me out here, but you didn’t. You’re clearly sorry for the things you did in the past. Show that in court. Prove your newfound innocence.”

“I’m— I’m scared,” he admitted to me in a hushed tone that only I could hear. I nodded understandingly, but my eyes were still pleading for him to do the right thing. This wasn’t the answer. This wasn’t the way out. “Okay…” he mumbled, dropping the gun.

Hotch carefully approached again, his aim still trained on Matloff. As Reid came over to grab the gun on the ground and the one in the back of Matloff’s waistband, Hotch grabbed his cuffs. “Put the body down, Brian,” Hotch ordered. Matloff did as he was told, gently resting the corpse on the grass before standing up so that Hotch could arrest him. “Do you have any more weapons on you?”

Matloff shook his head. “No.”

Hotch slapped his handcuffs on Matloff’s wrists, then passed him off to the SWAT team to be transported back to the jail in town. Reid came over to us as Hotch started getting my handcuffs off with the key from the car. He must’ve seen that Matloff stole them from the glovebox and made the smart decision to bring the key.

The second the handcuffs were off, Hotch threw his arms around me. His hug caught me off guard, making me stumble in his hold before I could hug him back. I didn’t expect that while we were still on the job, around our friends, on a crime scene, and in front of an Unsub that Hotch would pull me in for a desperate hug like that, I didn’t protest. I held him back, closing my eyes as I inhaled his scent. He smelled like his Aqua Velva aftershave, which was so different from the forest and waterfall scents nearby. Honestly, he smelled like home. I needed home after the day I had.

“You okay?” he asked me quietly before kissing the top of my head.

I nodded against his chest. “I’m fine.”

“I shouldn’t have let you go on your own.”

“We didn’t know.”

“Still.”

“It’s fine, Hotch. I’m fine. He wasn’t going to hurt me.”

Hotch squeezed my shoulders. “I love you.”

I nuzzled against him. “I love you, too.”

#Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfic #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #aaron hotchner #Aaron Hotch Hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner imagine

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not-so-mundane-after-all · 3 years

Note

for the writing ask,,

3, 9, 12, 17, 28, 37

3. Is there a trope you wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole?

Anything that involves i*cest. Burn that before it lays eggs.

9. Which fic has been the hardest to write?

Sacrifice. I knew this story will be long and might get complicated, and the farther I went with it the more I was scared I was gonna mess it up, create plotholes, loose the sense of it. I'm not really doing outlines for my writing, I create as I go, but for the ending I really had to sit down and make sure everything fits together. Just to be sure I'm doing it with part 3 as well.

12. Is there an episode above all others that inspires you just a little bit more?

Maybe not the whole episode, but I have few scenes that I keep close to my heart, from few different shows.

From Titans it's the scene between Dick and Rachel in 1x04, in the basement. "You're not on your own. You have me. I'm here." That was the moment I knew I wanted to dive into these characters hearts and minds, especially Dick's, because I needed to know and understand the reasons behind his decision to finally commit. I love writing introspection and focus on thoughts and feelings.

From my all time favorite Supernatural it's anything that has to do with Charlie Bradbury - seeing her was the first time I saw myself in a fictional character. Especially the moment she says "I'm not a witch - I'm a nerd" with such confidence - it inspires me to always be my true self.

There's a lot more scenes I could talk about but I'd be writing this whole night.

17. Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

Most of the one-shots were written from start to finish, but sometimes an idea comes to me in a form of a single moment that's usually in the middle or at the end of the story so I start with that. Purification was written completely out of order - the first scene I've written for this happens in chapter 7 and the opening of chapter 1 is one of the last scenes written before publication.

28. Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much.

@liathgray Cece, darling. They are a phenomenal writer. Reading their work is like a master class in writing. It's a metaphor on metaphor covered with another metaphor, filled with tiny details that seem totally irrelevant until they become a key part of the story, clues put waaaay ahead that blow your mind when you finally figure them out and MISTERY. The way Cece is able to get into a character's mind, break it to pieces to see what's inside and put it back together is unbelievable. The humor is off the charts. The intensity of it all is just mind blowing. And extra points for descriptions of surroundings and visual sensations - it literally transports you into the fic's universe

@nooowestayandgetcaught Val, my dear. Another one I love for the way of drilling into a character's head. I remember finding their HDM fics and being totally in love with the way they were written, I remember crying my eyes out on some of their works. So emotional but also clever and well thought out. I'm always amazed reading their works.

And last but not least @darkambersky Their Titans stories are written in French but even poor google translation didn't stop me from reading it. What blew me away? EMOTIONS weaved into beautiful metaphorical, poetic language. I was crying my eyes out multiple times on every chapter.

37. Talk about your current wips.

I've started planning out part 3 of The White Raven series - "Reignition", the follow up to "Purification" and "Sacrifice" will be the last installment of the trilogy. I'm especially excited for it because I found a way to build my old ideas into it, stuff I couldn't figure out how to turn into compelling stories.

I also have ideas for two episode AU's for Titans - one is mine and one is a request. First one is a re-write of episode 2x03, where there's no chasing after dr. Light and instead Dick is focusing on what he was initially intending to do in this episode - finding out what happened between Jason and Rachel during training. He tried to get some info from Gar, who is a terrible liar in that moment and Dick didn't buy a single thing he said - that's the moment I'm planning to start making changes.

The request is to change the ending of 2x13, where instead of Donna saving Dawn it's Dick who does it and then Rachel brings him back to life.

None of that is written yet but I'm doing a lot of thinking.

THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!

#dc titans #his dark materials #supernatural #ask games

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jasmine2042003 · 4 years

Text

Beware the Spirits of the Vengeful ~ pt 4

Once again, thank you all for the love you’ve shown to this series, in this chapter, I will finally reveal what you, the reader, are. This series is going to follow the story line of the series vaguely, this chapter is based off of episode three, season two.

Top Supporters!!!

@originalwitchsworld @deanslittlebitch @loonati0n

@buggaroox

And a special tag for @cece-lives-here! Here you go! You finally find out what (y/n) is!!!

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 /

_____________________________________

3rd Person pov

Once again, the cemetery had been overrun with police and shocked onlookers. The (l/n) family mausoleum, that was once rubble on the ground, was now completely rebuilt and even more majestic than before. Yellow police tape surrounded the cemetery and Sheriff Stilinski had his hands full with the most recent discovery of the small body of young (y/n) (l/n).

‘The little girl’s body was perfectly preserved, as if she passed in the last week or so,’ The Sheriff thought, ‘Which of course is impossible, she should be Stiles’ age by now.’ The thought that the same thing could have happened to his son made the Sheriff’s heart ache.

Speaking of whom, Stiles was running towards the crime scene, desperate to see what had been going on. “Stiles!” The Sheriff called, watching as his son swiftly turned around to face him. “No,” The man continued quietly, watching his son deflate and turn around to go home. The Sheriff shook his head and walked over to the forensics team. “What have you got?” He asked, already frightened of the results.

The lead forensic scientist sighed and looked at the Sheriff, “The DNA we found in the rubble confirms that (y/n) was under the rubble when the mausoleum was destroyed.” He told the Sheriff. Once again, the man sighed, it seemed that was all he did these days.

‘Well, that is a case almost closed, but who killed her?’ Sheriff Stilinski thought to himself. Now the case moved from an open abduction to an open murder case. ‘Who just leaves a child in a mausoleum, she must have been dead beforehand, poor thing. Now to tell Melissa...’

Time Skip~

Stiles ran through the McCall house and up the stairs to Scott’s room, almost tripping over himself as he entered. “Scott!” He whisper-shouted, causing his friend to look at him in confusion.

“What? Why are you whispering, we’re the only ones here.” He told Stiles, who was closing the blinds and the door and motioning for Scott to keep quiet. “Okay, I heard new stuff on (y/n) (l/n).” Stiles whispered, his eyes widening, “Is your mom home?” He asked, to which Scott nodded.

“Yeah, you probably ran passed her.” He told his hyperactive friend, the boy continuing to secure the room so he can tell Scott what happened. “Okay, so the mausoleum is completely rebuilt and (y/n)’s body was found in it.” Stiles started, watching Scott’s eyes widen.

“So there is no way the new girl is her, because she’s... well...” Scott didn’t need to finish his sentence, both boys went silent, almost respectfully. Stiles nodded but had a look in his eye. “We can’t rule that out for sure Scott.” He muttered, causing Scott to scoff.

“What do you mean we can’t rule that out?” He asked, but was interrupted by the door being knocked. Scott and Stiles opened the bedroom door gently, just enough that they could hear but weren’t seen. “Evening Melissa,” A voice came from below, Stile’s dad, the Sheriff.

Stiles’ eyes widened and backed away from the door slightly. “Evening Noah, if you’re looking for Stiles-” Melissa McCall began only to be disrupted. “Actually, I am here to talk to you, its about (y/n).” He said, the boy’s could hear Scott’s mom gasp and let him in.

They moved into the kitchen and Stiles could no longer hear what they were saying, relying solely on his Lycan friend.

“We found her- her body Melissa.” The Sheriff told Scott’s mom grimly. Scott could hear her begin to cry, trying to keep calm and breathe. “My poor (y/n),” She wailed, even Stiles could hear her at this point, Scott felt so bad just listening, opening the door and hurtling down the stairs to comfort his mom. Despite Stiles’ disagreements.

“Mom?” He asked, walking into the kitchen, gently grabbing her elbow, feeling her turn and hug him tightly. He acted confused, worried about his mom, but he knew what was going on. Although, he was still very confused.

Why didn’t he remember her?

3rd Person pov

(y/n) and Isaac stood next to each other in gym class, him quietly asking questions about the supernatural world, her quietly responding with a small smile. To anyone else, it would seem like two teenagers were exchanging silent moments or even flirting a little, something that made other students incredibly jealous.

The two supernaturals only looked up from their conversation when they heard Scott hitting the ground. “McCall, I don’t know why, but your pain gives me a special kind of joy.” The coach said, followed by a couple of chuckles from the others. “Alright, next two. Stilinski, Erica, let’s go.” He said.

Immediately worrying (y/n) at the back, causing her to push her way to the front of the crowd, watching Stiles ascend the rope at a quick, agile pace. Erica was slowly dragging herself up, until eventually, she stopped moving, pinning herself to the wall. (y/n) muttered underneath her breath, a small spell just to help her along.

“I’m fine!” She called to the coach, who was wondering if she was dizzy or was having vertigo. “Coach,” (y/n) spoke to him in a gentle but strained voice, “She’s not suffering from vertigo, she has epilepsy.” She told him, watching his eyes change from boredom to slight worry.

“She does? Why the hell doesn’t anyone tell me these things? Erica, you’re good. Push off and we’ll ease you down.” He said, but Erica still wasn’t moving.

(y/n) pov

Closing my eyes, I looked into Erica’s head, “Erica,” I whispered under my breath, knowing she could hear me, “Let go.” I took hold of her body and forced her to release her grip on the wall slowly, lowering her down to the ground once again. Everyone stared at her with pity, a few of the meaner kids snickering at her.

“Oh, shut it!” I growled, glaring at the crowd and smiling a bit at their look of shock and slight fear. Grabbing Erica by the hand, I led her to the back of the gym, sitting with her and stroking her hair gently.

“How did you do that?” Erica asked quietly, still not feeling too great. I smiled gently at her. “I know the feeling of being angry at people, wanting them to feel the same way you felt, let’s just say we have a bit of a connection.” I told her with a pained look on my face.

She smiled back at me and we spent the rest of the period chatting, or mostly me listening to Erica talk almost maliciously about the experiences she’s had with her epilepsy and people making fun of her for it. At the end of the period I turned in to the changing rooms, not noticing when a certain blonde didn’t follow me.

I had nearly finished changing, wearing now a pair of ripped jeans, a tank top and a pair of heeled ankle boots. I was getting ready to put on my hoodie to cover my scars when I felt my eyes glowing cerulean once again. ‘Erica.’ I thought, rushing to the gym to see Erica almost at the top of the wall, her body beginning to convulse.

“Scott!” I called, watching as he was there in seconds, ready to catch her as she fell. I would have been able to catch her in my other form but I would be risking revealing myself to too many people. I felt my heart racing at the thought of Erica getting hurt. I knelt next to her and Scott, “Get her on her side,” I told him, helping him turn her.

Erica clutched onto my hand, squeezing whenever she had a convulsion. I looked at Scott, “Thank you,” I told him, not noticing his shock as he looked at me.

‘Her eyes... were they always that glowing blue?’ He thought.

I wound up accompanying Erica to the emergency room, using a bit of magic manipulation on the teachers and EMTs. A bright light was shining down, Erica was wearing a hospital gown, blinking at none other than my childhood babysitter, Melissa McCall.

I had to stop myself from running to the woman and hugging her, deciding instead to clutch my arms and look down at the floor. “It’s been a while since we saw you, Erica. You were being so good about your medication,” I could tell she hadn’t taken it when I was in her body. It was completely flushed of any meds.

“Are you going to tell my mom?” She asked, slightly scared, the tone of her voice caused the supernatural in me to look up and look at her in concern. Melissa sighed and spoke up, “I swear I don’t want to. But there’s this team of lawyers in the back who would break my legs and I don’t know if you’ve seen my legs, but for a girl my age they’re still pretty hot.”

I smiled, as did Erica, Melissa smoothed back the girl’s unkempt hair, “The doctor will be over in a few, okay?” Erica laid back on the bed, her hand reaching out to grab my own, I smiled and held her hand gently. “I think that this is a weird start to a great friendship,” I told her, listening to her laugh.

Erica closed her eyes and I almost didn’t realise the hand grasping the gurney, the other attaching itself to the small of my back, pushing me along. “Lie still.” A deep gruff voice said to Erica, and she did so, watching as the gurney was pushed through two double doors.

I knew at this point that it was indeed the Alpha, leaning back, I caused my body to go completely intangible. I passed through Derek’s hand, not wanting to see this, but slightly looking forward to her change. I knew he would be looking for more Betas, the more Betas, the more powerful the Alpha. It seemed his next Beta was going to be Erica.

Time Skip~

Erica looked and seemed to feel great! I was so proud of her, as long as I could keep her safe, I had no problem with her taking her vengeance this way. Speaking of vengeance. I was going to start Phase Two: Descent into Madness.

I stood outside the house, my old home. I knew he was still there, I knew he still lived there, I was slightly curious as to whether or not he kept my old room. Once again becoming intangible and casting a quick glamour so nobody would see me, I walked through the front door and up the stairs to what was my dad’s old office.

Nothing had changed in there, I could still see paintings that were there when I was little, but there was also a locked box in one of the drawers. Becoming once again tangible, I reached for the box, more specifically, the lock on the box. I closed my eyes and felt myself changing from my human form.

I could feel my wings rip through, yet another, hoodie, my clothes began to change as tears of blood began to flow freely down my cheeks. A feathered bralette covered my chest, feathers also spread around my pelvis to cover me modestly.

My eyes opened and I knew they were a glowing blue. A small smile flittered onto my face, I felt much more comfortable this way, anyway. I felt the strength coursing through my veins, running towards my fingers, now with long, sharp black talons. The lock that was still in my grasp, began to creak and crack with the sudden force it was being put under, I had hardly flexed my fingers when the lock almost shattered.

I opened the box and looked into it, feeling my eyes tearing up, red covering my vision. I calmed myself down, looking at pictures of my mother and myself, both have been dearly departed. This was all part of my plan.

~~~~~~~~~~

It had been about half an hour, I had made multiple copies of the same image, a picture of my mother and myself, smiling up at my father who was taking the picture, I had placed them everywhere.

Floating outside the window, my wings were enjoying the freedom I rarely gave them and were flapping slowly to keep me in the air. I decided to watch my dear old dad and his reaction to my little message, I felt an evil smirk once again forming on my red painted lips.

3rd Person pov

(f/n) walked up the stairs of his home, his wife and sons were out and he thought he would have some free time before they came home to get some work done. Walking into his office, his face lost all colour, his eyes were devoid of any emotion but shock. His eyes filled with tears as he looked at the smiling faces of his now dead daughter and wife.

He quickly became angry, who knew? He had a feeling someone would eventually find out about what he did, the mausoleum had been destroyed and, even though he had always meant to, he never went back to check that (y/n) had even died.

Growling angrily, the man began to tear away layer upon layer of photos and images, the same image. The image of the perfect family that had been destroyed, that he had destroyed. He finally began to see the wall of his office again, seeing the wedding photo that he had taken with his new wife merely two years after (y/n)’s death.

He saw red appearing on the wall the more he took down the photos, following the red and continuing to frantically tear at the happy mother and daughter coating his walls in a vicious attack. He felt the red substance on the wall, it was sticky.

His eyes widened when he finally revealed the message under the wave of evil nostalgia.

“I know what you did, you will get what you deserve.”

(y/n) smirked from outside the window, watching her murderer rub his eyes in fear and confusion. She snapped her fingers and watched the room. (f/n) opened his eyes again, only for the images, scraps of photographs and the bloody writing on the wall to have disappeared...

Time Skip~

(y/n) sat waiting for the Alpha and his Betas in the underground station, still in her more powerful form, her wings were wrapping around her shoulders, concealing her scars from any watchful eye.

The scars came by accident, when she was reborn, she destroyed the mausoleum from the massive influx of energy, the rubble and debris cut up her young self and the rebirthing process was a bit particular about how it made teenage (y/n).

Any cuts or bruises were identical on the ‘new’ (y/n), so when her young body was cut up, (y/n) maintained the same cuts, using her healing to fix it but was left with a severe amount of scarring. Anyway, the strong scent of the Alpha invaded her senses and she looked up, blood still streaming from her eyes.

Derek could smell her intoxicating sweet smell instantly and, even though he was wary and stood in a fighting stance as he saw her, he couldn’t help but be completely entranced by the odd creature with glowing blue eyes. She was hauntingly beautiful.

“Alpha.” (y/n) acknowledged, him nodding in return, still stood to attention. Isaac stepped around his Alpha, an innocent and curious look across his face, “(y/n)?” He asked, causing the strange but gorgeous creature to smile and nod. “What-” He was cut off by Erica pushing by him to hug her best friend, gently stroking her feathered wings in awe.

“I figured now would be a good time to tell you what I was.” She said to the Alpha and his Betas. Looking at one in particular, she walked over to him gracefully and leaned to shake his hand. “Hi, I’m (y/n),” The boy replied saying his name was Boyd. She smiled and nodded, then walked to the Alpha and hit him upside the head.

“What is wrong with you!? Why would you make them fight for you!? In public nonetheless!” She yelled, Derek felt slightly intimidated. “Uh, (y/n)” She heard a bashful Isaac from behind her and turned to face him with a smile, “You said you would tell us, um... What you are?” He said.

(y/n) smiled a devilish but enticing grin, “I’m what’s called an Arae. A female spirit of curses, more specifically curses of revenge made by the dead and sometimes the living for those who wronged them in the past.” She told them, looking at Erica as realisation washed over her.

“You said we had a connection...” She mumbled. The Arae nodded with a pained smile, “I could feel the anger you felt towards the students who hurt you, I felt the same anger towards my father.” She told them, her voice taking a dark turn.

“Ten years ago, my mother passed away, she was killed by... something, I’m not sure what. My father was human, she was a banshee, he didn’t know anything about the supernatural world and I’m sure that if I grew up, I would have been something similar to my mother.” She started her story to be interrupted.

“What do you mean, if you grew up?” Isaac asked.

(y/n) sighed and continued. “When my mother died, my father could hardly stand to look at me, eventually it became too much, he took me to the family mausoleum and locked the door behind me, leaving me to die.” She finished, a wistful look on her face.

Erica gasped and the boys looked horrified. Derek looked up at the Arae with a look on his face and opened his mouth to ask her. “No.” She immediately said. “I refuse to join any pack, I will happily protect you and your Betas, but I am also going to protect Scott and Stiles.”

Feeling herself begin to grow tired, she released her hold on her Spirit Form, feeling her eyes return to their natural (e/c), her wings fading into her back and her feathered clothes disappearing, leaving her naked as she blacked out.

___________________________

I know it has been a while! I am so sorry! I made this chapter slightly longer to atone and you finally know what you are. An Arae! I do have an image of what was described as an Arae, I think it is supposed to be more artistic but I fell in love with it so let me know if you want to see it!

Once again, I love you guys!!! Xxx

#teen wolf #x reader #teen wolf x reader #derek hale #scott mccall #stiles stilinski #isaac lahey #derek hale x reader #scott mccall x reader #stiles stilinski x reader #isaac lahey x reader #romance #love #cute #series #fanfiction #greek mythology #crossover #supernatural

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