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littlemarie · 2 years

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hola nerds it’s gemma again 🤓 on today’s episode i present 2 u miss city gworl bae sumi! she’s a phd candidate enrolled in the joint program between snu and han pharmaceuticals so on the outside u may think she’s smart n has her life tgt, but in reality she’s a lil uhm *nicki minaj vc* messy 💅 also if u’ve read her powers u’ll notice that it reads like a literal demon ( s/o 2 the nara clan and don’t starve together for the inspo ) so u best believe ya girl sumi here is od’ing on ability suppressants bc she is truly not doin this shit today! imma place all further rambling under the cut for all u keen folk but otherwise, pls hit that LIKE to plot!! thank u lov u mwah ♡

p.s. this is a sideblog so im rlly sry in advance but i can’t follow back!! ims will b thru @renegaed!!

grew up in rural andong! needless to say the view on metahumans there is not nearly as progressive bc it’s no eden! it’s not like metahumans are hated or anyth but as a lil context i do think religion and superstition would have a much bigger role in rural areas, similarly to our world today

anw sumi is the oldest of three siblings! she’s born to a human mother n a father who’s a silent carrier of the metahuman gene, so they were a lil shocked to find out that sumi’s got that sliver of gold in her eyes 🤓 in the end they can’t be too surprised tho, since her dad’s older sister is metahuman ( she’ll come into play later )

as a child, sumi has alw had a really overactive imagination and is v fearful of ghosts n the dark! v typical of lil children her age and her mom doesn’t bat an eye when she’s runnin 2 her parents room at night n tellin em there’s a monster under her bed... bc of this she alw sleeps w a nightlight but yknow this is still p normal, nothin out of the extraordinary

until her power manifests at 5 and weird shit starts happening... like mom walks in n finds the window in her and her brother’s ( subin’s ) room wide open when both her children r too short to reach it, or subin is claiming that sumi beheaded his teddy bear n she’s crying n saying she didn’t do shit tf the ghost did it!! her mom is getting hella spooked n is like yknow what imma go see a shaman

the shaman tells sumi’s mom that sumi is haunted and her bad dreams of ghosts n shit r a bad omen, and that it is likely that her close family members will suffer bad health if they don’t ditch her ass

sounds ridic wtf but also she’s gettin rlly... scared of sumi n she’s not doin a v good job of hiding it... it gets worse when one night she hears her son crying n screaming n when she rushes to their room she sees him FLOATING n notices that sumi’s shadow seems to have stretched n merged w subin’s n she screams

sumi’s mom is rlly not doin well at this point... she has 0 idea what to do n she’s hella scared of sumi until her dad is like wait maybe sumi’s not actually haunted mayb it’s her power? regardless, both of them do not know how to raise a metahuman kid and time is ticking bc they’re afraid sumi’s gna k*ll subin n them w her shenanigans, so they decide that the best course of action is to ship sumi off to live w her metahuman aunt in eden

so now sumi’s livin w her aunt who she’s never met her entire life other than like a facetime every now n then! her aunt is a certified Cool Aunt, has divination as a power n is single n v happily childfree, so she has 0 clue how 2 raise a kid but she’s doin this bc thru her ability to see into the future, she realises that sumi has a.... bigger problem than her powers: that’s right the bitch is a pyromaniac n her parents were so concerned ab her powers that they missed all the warning signs! the stolen lighters.... the hidden ashes in the flower pot that’s actually burnt origami that sumi brought home from sch... the shaman was right sumi would’ve brought em “bad health” by accidentally burnin the whole house down!!!!

her aunt doesn’t rlly bother telling her parents this tho bc she doesn��t wanna spook them further ( according 2 her they are rolls eyes easily scared so it’s no wonder sumi’s inherited this ) n there was no way they were goin 2 b able to overcome their fears to raise sumi not necessarily right, but like.... without death so she’s like it’s me who’s gotta do it

to sumi’s defense she became a pyromaniac out of fear of the dark n fire brought a lot of comfort 2 her n it was to the point where whenever she felt scared ab anyth in general she would feel this intense need to light a fire bc somehow she would feel protected by it n that nth could hurt her bc the fire would protect her

anw sumi’s mom says this solution is only temporary but she keeps postponing the date she’s gna come take sumi back so ig sike sumi’s aunt is rlly j her mom now n that’s on that w abandonment issues

it’s for the better tho bc sumi’s aunt is like objectively the better parent tho she doesn’t rlly treat sumi like her kid, kinda is more like an older sis figure!!

so back 2 sumi’s upbringing, her aunt lets her run around the house for a bit n realises that bc she’s alone now n in a new place, her shadow is acting up even more as she sleeps w her nightlight n turnin it off is not an option bc sumi will start 2 cry n want to light fires!!! bit of a catch22 so the aunt decides 2 tackle the easier problem first n buy her ability suppressants so she can at least sleep w her nightlight on!!

w ability suppressants it all starts to go rlly well, sumi’s aunt j predicts when she’ll light fires w her divination n manage to put a stop to it ( she’s not alw successful ofc... sumi ends up accidentally burning the tent she bought for performing gut rituals and other shit but.. the good news is most irreversible damage has been prevented )

it’s rlly j a cat n mouse between her n her aunt n this continues well into her teenage years until she’s sorta calmed down a bit!! fires still bring her a lot of peace and she still lights em every now and then, but she mostly is able to ignore the impulse unless she’s goin thru some like... really bad shit in her life then she’ll start planning fires n it all gets a lil out of control

anw sumi has alw been rlly intelligent and one thing she’s rlly passionate ab is nvr having 2 be around ghosts ( e.g. her shadow ) so she studies metahuman biology in snu as an undergraduate then masters n now she’s doin her phd in metahuman biology!! her research project is on trying 2 make ability suppressants more efficacious ( like safely increasing duration n potency ) n she’s enrolled in a joint program between snu n han pharmaceuticals!! her goal is 2 create a cure that can make her powers disappear permanently ( ty rogue 4 the inspo )

uhh this was a lot of rambling im sry... a lil ab her personality: rn sumi is at the phase of her life where it’s like falling apart but she’s pretending everything is totes fine : ) she’s drinking on a tuesday night n turning up to lab hungover n giving talks ab her project like sis is rlly not doin well... anyone who’s known sumi outside of work will b able to tell she is messy as shit BUT SHE’S FINE!!

she’s also v impulsive n will do things on a whim,, like imagine she’s tellin u she has a deadline to meet at 12pm tmr but it’s 2am n she’s in the club n she apparently hasn’t started but it’s FINE!!! will tell u she’s completely over her ex then ask u if ur still awake n to pls pick her up from his house at 2am but yknow what it’s FINE

if anyone insists 2 know sumi will tell u she’s j a bad luck charm ( aka the jinx ability where she brings everyone around her bad luck n it can’t be turned off )

ok uhm if uve read this far ilu!!! i will now reward u w some plot ideas ♡

sumi may b an unpredictable messy city girl whose life is falling apart but yknow where all the unpredictable messy city girls whose lives r falling apart go?? u got that right they go to BEAT!! she is there every week without fail so uhm if ur muse is a regular... yknow where 2 find me xo

another BEAT plot: she also cries in the club n cries outside the club so like if ur muse happens 2 walk into that...... idk where this would go but i promise u she would tell u she’s fine her life is poppin but we all know it’s bad when she’s lying to her therapist

being a student at snu n han pharma, it’s likely that if ur muse frequents the place or works there, she’ll likely bump into u!! or if ur muse is a journalist who’s tryna get an inside scoop of what’s happenin at han pharma... sumi knows nth ab the human trials but imagine if one of the researchers working on it was also named sumi n u mistake her for that person 🤡

speaking of snu n han pharma imagine if u only know sumi only in a professional context n think she’s v professional and j an upright citizen,, then there’s some work occasion where ur all gathered 2 meet in a casual setting n there’s alcohol involved n now she’s drunk off her ass n she tells u to pls help sneak her out bc she’s 100% she saw her colleagues staring n judging her

sumi’s aunt used to take her to the children’s park quite a bit when she was p young so!! if ur muse is born 94-98 n also went to the children’s park a lot, maybe they could b childhood friends who met there!!

yeah so imagine sumi starts a fire somewhere n it starts gettin out of hand,,, this can be literally anywhere secluded in the city but uhm pls help she is basically a human w the amount of ability suppressants she’s on she can’t stop this fire

sumi’s also got a burn mark on her forearm from one time when she got hurt from a fire she started!! i assume she went to the hospital for it n the timeline of this is flexible, but if ur muse works at the hospital, mayb she was assigned as their patient n her aunt confessed that she was a pyromaniac that’s how this happened?? this part of her is rlly hush hush n no one knows ab it other than her aunt ( not even her parents ) n sumi is v concerned ab appearing 2 b a certified Cool Girl n this is rlly not the vibe so like... wyd imagine she threatens u

sumi lives in jeoljeong highrises w her aunt!! yall could b neighbours it would b cute!!

honestly sumi is pretty unpredictable so she could turn up at lit any location i could find an excuse for anyth so uhm yeah hmu

aight uhm messy sumi time... so she is v reckless n is also goin thru a bit of a ho phase so imagine yall had a one night stand not knowing who tf u guys are n now u bump into each other in a professional setting or smth... 🥵 wyd r u pretending udk her

alternatively yall met on a dating app n either she unmatched u or u unmatched her ( maybe the sexual chemistry was hella off too ) but now u find out u have mutual friends n they wanna hang n ur at this awkward dinner tgt 🥶 wyd

i feel like sumi is the kinda person who ghosts her ex n that’s on that w anxious-avoidant attachment 🤙 so who wanna be ghosted line up 4 the trauma

#iv. NO MATTER WHAT YOU DO DON’T FALL ASLEEP » … out of character.#ast:intro #sry this is late i was out n now it's late oop #see yall online tmr

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im-not-the-one-youre-looking-for · 2 years

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I don’t hate a lot of people but I do hate the garbage hospitalist at my job who is so utterly incompetent and thought it was OK to leave a patient in excruciating pain and agitation related to metastasized cancer all night long with inadequate pain meds because she doesn’t feel comfortable prescribing anything more than a microdose of Dilaudid. We made her come up to the room and go in there to see him writhing on the bed and crying and restrained because he was so out of it with pain and possible brain mets and we needed to protect his IV line running the chemo and yeah she just left him as he was.

#I hate her so much #she is having a baby and it’s the best news ever because it means she will be gone on maternity leave and away from my patients #we all hate when she’s on #this is the same woman who thinks 0.5 mg of melatonin is an appropriate sleep aid for someone trying to yeet themselves out of bed #maybe she’ll decide to cut back when her kid is born #anything to get her away #she does not deserve to work with patients #they deserve better than her #she also left one of my pts in withdrawals all night and the only thing she ordered was a UA #and I was like. he just told me. everything that he takes. he had the classic withdrawal symptoms. and even if he DIDNT #my man is in severe pain maybe we could get him some pain meds???????#i hate her i hate her i hate her #nursing

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nebulablakemurphy · 2 years

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All For You (Pt. 7)

Summary: Elliot and Jules’ baby shower attracts some unlikely guests. Companion series to Because Of You & Before You.

Warning: this is a mature series that includes mentions of drug use/overdose, mental illness, explicit language and mentions of sex.

They knew it’d be good, the first time they were all ‘together, together.’ Healing what was broken, solidifying the bonds that have been strained for so long. Elliot’s neighbors definitely got an earful.

After that things get better.

Rue finally drags Elliot down to an NA meeting. He doesn’t know if it’ll work for him, but Rue insists they helped save her life. Turns out it’s not all bullshit. Wanting to be sober helps too. Y/N and Jules entertain themselves while they’re gone.

Whatever worries the four of them had about the logistics of all this seem silly now. The idea that this would someday end also felt impossible.

The longer they stayed there, hole up in Elliot’s apartment, the less desire anyone had to leave. Like they might all just stay crammed into one tiny bed for the rest of their lives.

———————————————————————

Y/N’s belly is growing by the day. A happy, healthy baby kicking away inside. Jules feels the first one, entirely by coincidence. Or maybe it was the sound of her voice that sent a tiny foot soaring into her palm. Jules’ smile is brighter than the sun.

The baby won’t move for Elliot, which becomes a running joke. Baby Vaughn-Collins already picked a favorite before he or she was even born. Jules and Elliot decide not to find out the sex until birth, but they all have predictions.

Y/N is thirty-four weeks along when the nursery is finally ready. She and Rue are invited over to see it. Cream colored walls, with soft gender neutral pastels, turn their former guest room into a rainforest themed oasis for their bundle of joy.

“It’s beautiful,” Rue tells them, running her finger tips over the soft sheets inside the crib.

Jules smiles, “I still can’t believe it.”

Elliot is unusually quiet. Y/N pulls him aside, into the hallway.

“Cold feet?”

“Nah. It’s just all getting real, you know? Filling out all that paperwork-”

“Did you change your mind?” Y/N asks, even though it’s too late to really change his mind.

“This was a terrible idea and I’m so sorry.”

“Elliot, what?”

“When this is over you’re gonna understand.” He runs a hand over his face. “You’re gonna be happy for me and Jules. You’re gonna think that everything is the way it’s supposed to be and all is right with the world. Your life will go on, you’ll watch them grow up with the best parents any kid could ask for.

You’ll come to their birthday parties, help with their homework, and maybe even coach their soccer team. You’ll worry when they’re sick. They’ll love you and you’ll love them. Most times it’ll make you happy-”

“Elliot stop, it’s ok.” Y/N cuts him off. “It’ll be ok, we’ll figure it out. Maybe sometimes I’ll be sad. Like when I leave the hospital without a baby for the first time. Or the first few weeks when I’m all swollen and in pain, I’ll probably cry myself to sleep-”

Elliot wraps her up in his arms. “Come stay with us. Or we’ll stay with you guys. Whatever is better for you and Rue and the kids, but please don’t fucking do that.”

“No, that’s part of it.” Y/N murmurs against his neck. “Part of letting go, we have to allow that separation. You have to let yourself feel it.”

“Did your therapist tell you to do that?” Elliot draws back slightly to look at her. “He’s fucking fired.”

“You can’t fire my therapist, Elliot.” Y/N laughs, “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Bullshit,” he snaps. “I’m glad you did. Rather than having to find out later. Does Rue know?”

“Yeah. She’ll be with me.” Rue knows everything.

“And I don’t get the option to be with you?” That’s the rub isn’t it? She’s his once removed. Not his wife, not the mother of his children, not his anything.

“We can discuss it.” Y/N agrees. “All four of us, there are four people in this. Not just me and you.”

Elliot nods, “fine, yeah.”

“I love you and I’m glad we had this talk.” God, that feels weird. It’s good to have discussions instead of just doing things and watching them blow up in their faces. That’s part of finding a better thing.

“I just love you.”

“I know.” That’s why they fight. Why they always have and why they always will.

“I don’t want you to feel alone in this. Or like you only have Rue. You have me and Jules.”

Maybe they could all stay together…just for a little while.

———————————————————————

Y/N is thirty-nine weeks and one day pregnant at Jules and Elliot’s baby shower. The timing is slightly precarious because the date kept getting moved around. No sign of baby yet, just Braxton hicks contractions that wake Y/N from a dead sleep.

Rue’s been amazing through the whole thing, she wakes with Y/N. Rubbing her back, whispering soothing words, that she’s safe and loved. That’s she’s ok and this won’t last forever.

The baby shower is beautiful, small and intimate, at Elliot and Jules’ house. Their friends and family are very accepting of their situation. Even though not everyone fully understands it. Like Fez, for example, who’s just arriving with a giant box.

He’s been happy in his new life. Without the drugs or the dealing or…Ash. He has Lexi and their children to ground him. Keep him motivated. Somehow time marches on.

“Jules?” Someone taps Y/N on the shoulder.

“Uh, no.” Y/N smiles, turning to face them. It’s not anyone she’s seen before, but the woman reminds her of someone she knows very well. “I’m just…incubating. Jules is around here somewhere.” Y/N looks to the long white table, adorned with mint green ribbons, where Jules was just a minute ago.

“How do you know Elliot?”

“He’s my friend.” Y/N tells her, feeling Cameron tug at her hand.

“Mommy, can I have some more snacks?”

“Yeah, baby. Go ahead.” Y/N ruffles his curls before he rips back across the room.

“Is he yours?” She knows. Cameron looks just like him.

“Yes.” Y/N clears her throat, growing more uncomfortable by the second. “So, how do you know Elliot?”

“I’m his mother.”

His mother. Y/N’s heart clenches. Elliot has only seen his mother a handful of times since he went to live with this aunt and cousin. If they’re on speaking terms, he hasn’t mentioned it.

Y/N isn’t sure what to do and she can’t see Elliot among the crowd anywhere. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too.”

“Will you excuse me for a moment?” It’s rude, Y/N knows it is. But this feels wrong, Elliot or Jules should be here. Not her, it isn’t her place.

“Of course.” The woman smiles softly.

Y/N dashes down the hall, and up the stairs to the second floor bathroom. She jiggles the handle only to find it locked. Come on. She needs to pee and have a breakdown. Y/N doesn’t knock, taking a seat on Elliot and Jules’ bed and pulling out her cell phone to text Rue while she waits.

‘Hiding in the bedroom. Someone’s in the bathroom and I really have to go. I might jump out the window and climb onto the top of the garage, then use the trash cans to get down, so I can leave without anyone seeing me. Do you think I’ll make it?’

Rue’s response comes a few seconds later. ‘No, I do not think your pregnant ass will make it. What happened?’

‘Elliot’s mom is here.’

‘I just ran into her and Jules’ mom.’

‘Why is she here?’

‘I don’t know. I didn’t send the invites, but Jules and Elliot are M.I.A.’

Y/N sighs. ‘I’m gonna knock and see who’s in the bathroom.’

‘You prepared an escape plan without knocking?’

‘Uh, yeah. Updates to follow.’

‘At the edge of my seat.’

Y/N can feel Rue shaking her head.

Knock, knock.

“There’s a bathroom downstairs.” A voice replies from inside.

“Elliot?”

“Y/N?” The door creaks open.

Not just Elliot, but Jules. “You guys having a quickie? Elliot you know your mom’s here, right?”

“I didn’t think she’d actually show.” He admits, she never has before. “You left Rue alone with her?”

“Rue’s been warned, Fez and Lexi are down there. They’ll man the fort. She was more interested in Cameron though. Good luck explaining that.”

“Shit.”

Jules lets out a watery laugh and Y/N gets a good look at her as she steps onto the tile floor. Elliot moving to lock the door behind Y/N.

The blonde’s eyes are red and puffy, she’s been crying. Seated on the lid of toilet seat.

“Jules what happened?” Y/N closes the distance between them, crouching downs between Jules’ knees so they’re at eye level.

“My mom.”

“What did she do?”

“Nothing.” Jules looks away, swiping the back of her hand over her cupid’s bow. “She was actually really nice.”

“Why are you crying?” Y/N pushes a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.

“Because…like,” Jules takes a deep breath, “what if I mess up?”

“With the baby?”

“Yeah? What if I mess them up? I can’t do this. Elliot can do this, I’m not ready. And he waited for so long for me to like catch up.” She looks to her husband in defeat. Clearly it’s not his first time hearing this. “But I can’t because I’m so fucked up because of what she-”

“I know what she did, Jules.” Y/N whispers. “But you are not gonna do that.”

“How do you know?”

Y/N takes Jules hand softly, placing it on her belly between them. “I know you. I know how much you want this and I know you’re scared. I know why you’re scared. Motherhood is scary, you love your baby so much. You’ll worry about them and you’ll mess up sometimes, everyone does. But you’ll keep learning and trying and you will be an amazing mom.”

“I want to be.”

“We’re in this together.” Y/N reminds her. “Me and Rue will help, whatever you need. If you’re feeling overwhelmed or tired or whatever, we’ve got you. Elliot’s got you.”

“I don’t want to be a burden. I know you’ve got your own stuff going on with the Rue and the kids and like…healing after the baby.”

“This relationship is not a burden to me.” Y/N says, patiently. “You are not a burden, Jules. I love you so much. I love being with you. I love spending time with you. You make me so happy.”

“No,” Jules argues, “I love you. You make me happy.”

“Are you really gonna argue about a mutual feeling?” Elliot chimes in.

“Yeah.” Y/N cocks her head to the side. “I felt it first.”

“I felt it stronger though.”

“Unfuckingbelievable.” Elliot chuckles.

Y/N used to feel bad for him, being surrounded by all of them, all of the time. She doesn’t anymore, he clearly enjoys it.

“Be with me after.” Jules says, kissing Y/N’s hands and then her belly.

It’s still under review, what would happen when the baby came. If they were all staying together, it would have to be at Y/N and Rue’s house.

Jules and Elliot would bring over the bassinet and set up shop. They would bond with their baby and Y/N and Rue would keep their schedules. Sawyer and Cameron would have a blast with everyone under one roof. Y/N would have support if and when she needed it. They would all have extra support and the pitch did come with a lot of perks.

“Are you sure?” Y/N asks anyway.

“Be with me, please?” Jules whispers.

Y/N takes a deep breath, “ok.” She still has to pee though.

Elliot and Jules excuse themselves, waiting for her to finish. The plan was to go back to the party together. But-

“Guys?” Y/N calls, from inside the bathroom.

“Yeah?”

“Get Rue.”

“What’s wrong?” Jules wonders, rattling the doorknob.

“My water just broke.”

Part 8

#rue bennett imagine #elliot euphoria #jules vaughn imagine #before you #because of you #all for you #rue bennett #euphoria #jules vaughn x y/n #jules vaughn x you #elliot x y/n #elliot x you #elliot imagine #rue bennett fanfic #rue bennett x y/n #rue bennett x you #rue bennett x reader

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ceaselesswatchersspecialboy · 2 years

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This was a doodle I did of Philip and Marianne before Elsewhere and Elsewhen aired but I don’t think I ever posted it!

It’s been a while since I spoke about my Wittebane AU on here properly but with the new episode I’ve had to work on the story of it and alter some things but I decided to keep their marriage as apart of it. However, that obviously means Marianne doesn’t have a happy end.

Some notes under the cut because I’m worried this will be a bit long but hopefully not.

In my original version of the AU before Elsewhere and Elsewhen, these two had three kids together but for timeline purposes I’ve altered that to just two and they’re twins (I know twins are usually said to skip a generation but shh it’s fine), born just after the events of eclipse lake so they never get to meet their uncle. To add to that, they aren’t raised by their parents for long.

Three years after Eclipse Lake, Philip has already started his downward spiral and a build up of events leads to the death of Caitlyn Clawthorne, Marianne’s sister, at the hands of Philip’s ‘curse’ and Philip, being Philip, manages to lie about this for a bit but it doesn’t last long. When Marianne does find out the truth, and how Philip broke and consumed Caitlyn’s Palisman which lead to their fight, she tries to be somewhat hopeful that it was just the curse, because even though her sister is dead, she’sstill desperate to believe that her husband, Caitlyn’s friend, wouldn’t do that intentionally.

She wasn’t wrong as he didn’t do it intentionally, but still an argument broke out between them after she brought up Edward and Philip reveals that when Edward died in Eclipse Lake, he let the other two (Robin and Orion) die as well because he believed they were the reason Edward died. They actively prevented him from saving his brother, knowing Philip would get himself killed in the process, and Philip also believes they could have done something - anything - because of their magic, something they had and he didn’t.

Immediate regret from Philip after he reveals this because Marianne, who makes the worst mistake of her life here, decides that she can’t bring herself to hurt Philip and instead runs to to tell Kiki. Philip panics and runs after her and when trying to grab her, they both stumble and fall, Marianne breaking her right arm in the process. While Philip is able to stop himself from rolling, Marianne ends up hanging off a cliff over a ravine with only her left hand preventing her from falling. She calls out for Philip who, realising that if he helps her she’ll run again and tell Kiki what he did, decides for the first time that sometimes a sacrifice is worth it and leaves his wife to fall to her death, but not before consuming her palisman in front of her.

For a long time he did deeply regret this decision and ended up leaving his own children with Kikimora for both selfish reasons and the belief that he would only be a danger to them (Kikimora knows she can’t look after them by herself so gives them to the remaining Clawthorne family)

Important note here is that the events leading up to this all gradually drag Philip back into the mindset that witches are evil and beneath him and that makes it easier for him to slowly but surely block out the emotions and regret that came with leaving his friends and wife to die, as well as killing his sister-in-law. Maybe there’s still some part of him that cares, but if there is, it’s something he refuses to show to anyone.

So uh yeah, that was some AU stuff I’ve been working on today. Honestly I love the unhinged Philip we got it gives us (The Wittebane Famdom) a lot to work with and I think people will definitely have different interpretations of what happened to him. I’m personally going with the idea Eclipse Lake fucked him up and it just got worse from there, but I do think that he still had some beliefs before that he never managed to unlearn and escalated further afterwards.

#the owl house #toh #toh spoilers #the owl house spoilers #toh au #the owl house au #wit and bane #toh oc #the owl house oc #marianne clawthorne #philip wittebane

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blackbat05 · 3 years

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Day by Day

Shangqi x Reader

A/N: My love for this man has hit an all time high so let me capitalize on it while I still can! If you read everything, I sincerely thank you for doing so!!! And holy cow 2 fics in 2 days have I gone back into my prime days?

Genre: PG-13

Notes: As the title mentioned, I’ll probably set it some time after endgame. You could see it as a prequel to my first post! Reader is a social worker and she’s just dealing with all the mess that the snap bought back. The reader’s name as Jen Lee. I also apologize in advance for the potentially long fic.

***

‘Excuse me, I’m looking for my child? Her name’s Wang Yiman and she’s seven.’ Another frazzled-looking parent fought her way to the front of the receptionist, approaching the helpless intern who looked like she was going to be on the verge of tears if another request came in.

‘I got this,’ a hand calmly reassured the young intern as she beckoned the relief parent. ‘Mrs Wang? My name is Jen Lee and I’m the social worker here.’ I offered my hand for the anxious mother. ‘Oh thank god! Is Yiman ok? She must have been so scared!’ I slowed to a stop outside the room at the end of the corridor, gently sitting her down.

‘Yiman has been a very brave girl Mrs Wang, but I will not lie to you. The sudden disappearance of their parents has traumatized a lot of kids. We’ve managed to explain to them what was going on but they will need a lot of support.’ I gave a glance over Mrs Wang’s shoulder, nodding to my colleague, Tammy who was holding the hand of a little girl in pigtails and a floral dress.

妈妈! mā ma (mommy!)

The young girl ran into her mother’s open arms, allowing the floodgates to open from both ends. I turn to Tammy as we shared a silent agreement to leave the area. ‘That’s the last one for the day,’ Tammy unceremoniously plops herself onto the chair, letting out a groan. ‘Thanks for your hard work Jen.’

‘Right back at you.’ I entered the last bit of paperwork before uploading Yiman’s case file onto the portal. Yiman’s reunion with her parents meant the Children and Youth Centre were halfway in getting every displaced child back to their parents. Looking at the dingy television that was hung on the walls at the waiting room, despite not being able to hear anything, it didn’t take a genius to figure out what was going on. S.W.O.R.D was apparently in a stand-off against Wanda Maximoff? Reported rumors that Sam Wilson didn’t want anything to do with the shield? It’s been a crazy few weeks but that was utter-

‘Bullshit! If anything it’s the government. They must have psyched him into giving up the shield.’ My chair swiveled to face Tammy who returned a nonchalant shrug. ‘What? You know I’m right. Doesn’t matter if half the world’s gone or our universe gets split into two - they’re the true evil here. I’m still struggling to find a place after I found a couple making out in my apartment! And you know what the global repatriation council told me? We’re only dealing with urgent cases right now. Well I say f-’

The incessant ringing of the bell interrupted our conversation, replacing Tammy’s tirade into a cheeky grin. ‘Look who’s here!’

Shangqi stands behind the counter, dressed in his usual red varsity jacket and jeans, holding bags of what I could only make out as takeout from the Chinese restaurant that was run by a friendly Singaporean couple. ‘Did I interrupt something?’ He scratches his head nervously. ‘Nope, in fact you just saved me from Tammy’s monologue, any further and she’ll explicitly tell me what she saw in her apartment when she got dusted back that day,’ I shivered in mock fear. ‘Still haunts me up till today.’ Tammy meets us by the door, bag in her hand.

‘I thought you were staying? We got fried dumplings and 泡饭 pào fàn (poached rice).’

‘Last minute duty - A parent called, gotta run! Enjoy your dinner date.’ She waggles her eyebrows suggestively, much to our embarrassment. ‘What? It’s not...’ Shangqi stutters, trying to form intelligible sentences. ‘Get out before I throw a fried dumpling at your face Tammy!’ She winks at me, before darting out of the door. Once my nosy colleague was out, I turn towards a red-faced Shangqi. ‘I’m so sorry... just don’t mind her.’

‘Huh?’ The man was knocked out of his stupor. ‘Oh yeah... sure,’ in an attempt to forget everything that had just happened, he opened the packets of fried dumplings. ‘Ready for war?’

‘I was born ready.’

Thirty-five minutes later, all that was left were the remnants of fried dumplings and three empty containers.

‘This should be illegal,’ I patted my stomach in satisfaction to his amusement. ‘Laugh at yourself! You lost track of how many dumplings you had and ended up taking my share!’

Raising his hands in defeat, Shangqi starts to clear the table up. ‘So how’s the center? Everything alright?’ I nodded numbly.

The past five years had been a blur. Hazy, even. All I remembered was a kid running into the office telling me that half of the staff disappeared during a school holiday program that we were running with a dozen other kids. Parents who survived the snap rushed to our center, demanding to see their children. We couldn’t give them any answer as we too, were equally perplexed. Maybe the only thing that made sense was Shangqi and Katy bursting into the center to help us with the chaos.

Coming back from what could be the 1000th phone call, I got a glimpse in the children’s playroom where the five years old kids were at, treating myself to an amusing sight. They all had red cloths draped around their neck, each holding a stick that was from the abandoned prop box. Katy wasn’t spared to as she was wearing her own red cloth that seemed a few sizes to small for her. Not that she didn’t seem to mind.

‘Alright my warriors! Chargeeeeee!!!!!!’

In unison, little pairs of feet pattered across the room towards their ‘enemy’, a cardboard cutout of a monstrous creature who was really just Shangqi in disguise.

‘RAWR! I’ll eat anyone who stands in my way!’ He stands up, mimicking a dinosaur that was about to trample an entire city. I decided that the paperwork could wait, standing near the door to watch an Oscar-worthy performance. With great effort and bravery from the kids, they finally managed to take down 5 foot 10 worth of muscle.

‘Again! Again!’

I chuckled upon seeing Shangqi on the floor, about to drift off into wonderland. It was time for me to step in. ‘Alright kids that’s enough for today! Dinner’s here.’ As the kids dispersed with the help of Katy, it was just the two of us left to clear up the mess. ‘Thank you so much, both of you. I honestly can’t think of what would happen if you guys didn’t come to help.’

Perhaps my body language was screaming ‘I’m dead tired, please just knock me out’ as Shangqi takes a cloth from me, folding it back into the box. ‘It’s what we would have done, this place, it means a lot to us - to me.’

A small knock on the door diverts our attention away from the trash. Little Yiman stands at the door, as she stares at the both of us with big round eyes.

‘Yiman, it’s late, what are you doing here?’ I squat down to her eye level. The little girl beams, ‘ 妈妈 said that I could give this to you!’ She passes me a juice box together with a handmade card with colorful scribbles. Maybe I was carrying too much on my shoulders, as I suddenly felt a boulder lifted off me. ‘Thank you,’ I smile at her sweetly, ‘I love apple juice.’ Happy with the response, she runs to Shangqi. ‘Shangqi 哥哥 gē ge (brother)!’

He breaks out into a smile, opening his arms wide. Yiman nuzzles her head into his shoulder before breaking out into uncontrollable giggles from his sudden attack of tickles. ‘Are you hear to help Miss Jen?’ I took the trash from his hands, giving him some time with the girl.

‘Yes I am. Miss Jen needs some help so I’m here today!’

‘Are you her boyfriend?’

Shangqi freezes on the spot. He had undergone what could be the toughest training by his father, fought the greatest assassins in the world and here he was - stumped by a question from a seven year old. ‘Well... I’m her close friend since when we were very young,’ Yiman looks at him expectantly. ‘She helped me when I was in trouble so I had to be a good friend when she was in trouble too.’

‘Like how Ningning helped me when I injured my knee?’

‘Yeah... something like that.’ He breathes a sigh of relief, thankful to escape his first crisis. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure if he was telling himself the truth.

‘Yiman! Your mother’s here!’ The little girl gives him one last hug before running to the waiting room. Shangqi takes a moment to recollect himself. ‘Here I am thinking that you finally managed to have some stamina while interacting with young children, maybe I was wrong.’ I teased as I sat beside him.

‘Har har, hilarious.’ He tosses me a straw for our peach teas, as we were greeted by the amazing night view of San Francisco. ‘Enough about me, you good though?’ Looks like he didn’t forget the conversation that was cut off earlier. My mind goes back to a few minutes earlier, eavesdropping on the conversation.

‘I had to be a good friend when she was in trouble too.’

Life has been so unpredictable, I don’t even want to think too far into the future. With appearances from more superpowered beings, I don’t know what’s real anymore.

‘Yeah. To be honest, it’s been so crazy and overwhelming but I’ll get through it. I have you don’t I?’ Giving him a wink, I slowly sipped on the sweetness of the tea, savoring the pearls. He pauses for a moment, nodding thoughtfully.

Life isn’t the same as it was before. But maybe, just maybe... if I had Shangqi, I’ll take each day on one at a time. Day by day.

[END]

A/N: Hoho! I literally spent the whole afternoon writing because I just had to get this idea out and also because work was pretty slow today. I have no idea what is up with my first two fics hinting at unrequited love? I guess I got inspired by Shangqi’s and Katy’s platonic relationship because I thought it was so well written but I also love Shangqi so I guess is a compromise kinda thing. Again, do like and comment if you wish! Really thankful that y’all have been so kind to me so far!

Perhaps I’ll try my hand at shorter ones like headcannons before this girl exhausts herself out and I don’t want to do that because I believe I have more to show!

#xu shangqi #shangqi imagine #shangqi x reader #katy shang chi #shang chi #shang chi x reader

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amor-immortalem · 3 years

Text

Can I Stay Up Here With You Forever ch.4

Taglist: @mediocredetective

Warnings: Mentions of past child abuse and neglect

“So, what’s the plan for today? Or are we jus’ stayin’ home all day?” Mammon asks as he lugs the suitcase he brought with him into the bedroom and opened some dresser drawers to put his clothes away.

“I figured we could go out and explore more of the city together. Plus, I want to get a few more pieces of furniture to fill out the house.” Arella runs a hand through her hair as she stretches. “Breakfast was great, by the way. Thank you.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t that good- not compared to last night’s dinner anyway...”

“Don’t put yourself down like that, Honey.” The human gets off the bed to hunt for some clothes of her own. “You’re cooking is good, okay?”

He nods slowly. “Not if you ask my brothers though... One of ‘em always has something ta say ‘bout it- and none of its good. Even Beel has complaints sometimes.”

She frowns in response. “Well, I’ll have you know I genuinely enjoy your cooking. I wouldn’t mind if you cooked for us more often.”

Another nod from the demon as he returns to his task of emptying out his suitcase and Arella continues her search for the perfect outfit.

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“Where is he, Solomon,” The Avatar of Pride questions the sorcerer as he stands in the foyer of Purgatory Hall.

“I’ve already told you, Lucifer.” Solomon replies with a smile on his face. “I don’t exactly know. The human world is the best answer I can give you.”

The demon studies the human for a moment to deduce whether or not he’s lying about know where Mammon is. “Where in the human world?”

“I don’t know. Arella wouldn’t tell me where exactly she was summoning him to.” It’s a tiny lie. Of course, he knew exactly where they were, but Lucifer didn’t need to know that. “I have no reason to lie to you, Lucifer, but why exactly is it that you want to find your brother so badly?”

“I want to... apologize for my actions. It seems, after further review of the situation, that I was wrong. The bill I received was full of fraudulent charges to his credit card. Does that change your answer?” The first-born narrows his eye as the silver-haired sorcerer shook his head. “Then I’ll be off. If you hear anything, I want to be the first to hear about it.

Solomon only nodded, an amused smile playing on his lips. He wondered just how long it would take the demon to pinpoint Mammon and Arella’s location.

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They bounced from shop to shop throughout the day finding many cute trinkets and knick-knacks on their journey. The cutest ones- and Mammon’s personal favorite- was a set of crows sitting on a tree branch together, their bodies turned away with their heads pressed together so that they formed the shape of a heart. He instantly picked it up after Arella made the comment that the crows were representative of them and their love.

As their small shopping spree came down to an end, they had stopped to take a break in a park, just taking a moment to rest and enjoy the beautiful day. It filled Mammon with a warm feeling he wasn’t quite sure he could name just yet so he just opted to hold her hand as they relaxed on the park bench as a few small families played nearby.

His attention in particular was pulled to one certain family: A mother and father with their three boys. Watching them drug up a desire he thought he’d never have.

“Hey, babe,” He starts quietly.

“Yes, Love?” she hums in response.

“Do... Do ya want kids...?”

“Do you?” Arella replies with a question of her own, green eyes peering up at the demon.

“I asked you first.”

With a chuckle she answers, “Yes... having children with you wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. I’d love to one day down the road. How many do you want?”

“Just one would be good enough,” He smiles, resting his cheek against the top of her head as they sit there in peace for a while longer.

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Sitting in his office, attempting to keep his mind off Mammon, Lucifer was working on his ever-growing stack of paperwork. It wasn’t working and something in the back of the demon’s mind was gnawing at him. Something Arella had said to him roughly a month ago about stealing his brother away to the human realm and never returning. A laughable idea for as much as he knew she wasn’t joking; she really held no power to make that decision. Mammon was a demon- one of the seven lords of hell. His place was here in the Devildom whether she liked it or not. Mammon himself had to realize this was all pointless eventually and then he would come home and that would be the end of it. Or at least that’s what Lucifer hoped anyway. He really didn’t want to have to drag his brother back here kicking and screaming.

Stepping away from the old, worn-out desk, the eldest decides a break for tea and a phone call might do better to take his mind of things for the time being.

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Putting up her dusty old tomes on various mythologies of the ancient past, Aubrie could just barely hear the phone. Hopping down off the ladder, the mythologist swiped up the device- a gift from the only demon in her contacts. He was lucky she didn’t have it turned off like she usually did while she was working.

“Good evening, Lucifer,” Holding the shiny D.D.D. to her ear, she answered with a chirp. “To what do I owe the honor?”

“Good evening, Aubrie.” Lucifer’s voice is smooth as silk and Aubrie has to wonder if he just naturally talks like that or he was using that ‘seductive speechcraft’ Arella had mentioned some time ago to get whatever it was that he wanted from their conversation. “Have you spoken to Arella recently?”

“I have. You know she just moved from England, right?” The ginger chirps. “I texted with her this morning to see how it went.”

“Actually, I didn’t.” The Avatar of Pride hummed as he sipped on his tea. “That’s interesting. Where abouts did she move?”

“I wish I knew. The best I can say is somewhere in mainland Europe,” Aubrie lets out a sigh. “I want to go visit her. I can’t imagine how lonely it is to move to an entirely different country where you’re alone- although for Arella that’s pretty on character...”

“She does seem independent,” Lucifer hums, “I’m sure she’ll be fine. Actually, that’s part of the reason I called. I’m sure she told you that my brother’s with her when you spoke earlier... I need her to send him back. He can’t be missing so much school- his grades are already abysmal to begin with and the longer she keeps him up there, the worse they’ll get. Plus, I have things I need to talk with him about.”

“She's worried about his safety with you, Lucifer. Apparently, you broke his elbow somehow? Or something to that effect.”

“I didn’t break his elbow. No, he did that on his own by falling on it, but my actions helped lead to it so I have some blame in it.” The black-haired demon sighs, “That’s why I’m looking for them. I want to apologize to Mammon- he didn’t exactly deserve what I did that led up to him breaking his elbow.”

The human nods at that. “And here I thought you would be too proud to apologize.” She teased.

“If it were anyone other than my brothers, maybe.” He admits. “But in their own way, each of my brothers are important to me. We’ve been together for eons. Losing a single one of them would be devastating to our family, Aubrie. Like right now, the house has been too quiet and dark since Mammon left for the human realm. Things aren’t right until he comes home.”

“I see, but if you knew your brother would be happier up here in the human world with Arella... would you let him go?”

“I can’t- and it's not because I don’t want him to be happy, quite the opposite, actually- if we were not of such high rank and standing, then I would be content to allow Mammon to follow what makes him happy- whether that be here in the Devildom or up in the human world to allow him to live amongst the humans.”

“What do you mean?”

“I'm sure Arella has told you about our rank here in the devildom. We’re each to rule over a layer of Hell once we leave RAD in a few years. Mammon has a responsibility to the Devildom as Lord of the Fourth Layer. It's not a thing that he can just leave behind in favor of spending the rest of his human’s minimal lifespan up in the mortal realm.”

“You could be less harsh on him though. I know our morals on what is wrong and right are different and it’s foolish for us to force our morals on to literal demons from some of the stories she mentions about the way you all treat your brother... Well, it sounds like abuse to me and for someone like Arella, that’s very triggering for her.”

“What do you mean by that?” Lucifer’s interest was piqued at the human’s words. He knew next to nothing about Arella’s past before the exchange program and she never talks about her past to begin with so having the opportunity to hear about it was enticing to the Avatar of Pride.

“Her home life when we were children was... less than happy. Her mother was physically, emotionally, and verbally abusive as well as neglectful. I have plenty of pictures from when we were children where she’s covered in bruises, black eyes, busted lips. She would never say anything against her mother so protective services couldn’t do anything for her, but we all knew that woman was the cause of them. So you see, the way you treat your brother drudges up all that old trauma for her and that’s why she behaves the way she does. Wouldn’t you do the same thing if you were in her shoes, Lucifer?”

“You’re not wrong.” He goes to take another sip of his tea but the cup is empty. “This was nice and also very insightful. I have to go now, enjoy the rest of your evening, Aubrie.”

“Thank you, Love. You too. Make sure to go to bed a reasonable time tonight.” There was a short pause on her end before Aubrie began sputtering apologies and trying to back pedal her way out of that embarrassing situation and the line eventually just cut off.

Lucifer couldn’t help but laugh softly at the ridiculousness of it all. Humans sure were a funny creature.

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Find more writings on my masterlist

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me! shall we date?#obey me fluff #obey me mammon #mammon fluff #obey me lucifer #obey me solomon #obey me oc #arella #aubrie

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notquitetwilight · 3 years

Text

THE CULLANOS: A TASTE OF BOSTON, PART ONE

The Cullanos head to Boston to take care of some business.

“Well?” Carlisle Cullano asked his wife from across the table. “How does Boston pizza compare to Jersey pizza?”

“It doesn’t,” Esme answered her husband automatically. “Especially not ours.”

“Typical Jersey girl,” he smirked. He looked to their daughter beside her. “Rosie?”

Rosalie wrinkled her nose, looking up at him from the slice she was chewing on. “It’s too thick. I don’t like it. But then again, Jersey pizza doesn’t compare to New York pizza, either.”

Esme gave a deep sigh and threw her daughter a look. “Really?”

“What? You know I’ll always be a Manhattanite.”

“You were born in Jersey City Med,” Esme pointedly reminded her.

“Where I was abandoned,” Rose said slowly. “…To be raised in Manhattan.”

“You weren’t abandoned at the hospital,” Carlisle countered.

“She wasn’t abandoned at all!” Esme hissed before he could continue. “How many times do we have to go through this?”

“I know, I know, you were just kids, younger than I am now,” Rose waved the hand that wasn’t holding a pizza slice dismissively. “I’m over it. But I don’t know why you always get mad at me for saying I’m a New Yorker when you’re the ones who chose not to raise me in Jersey. Well, chose not to raise me at all.”

A tense silence fell over them. Rose lowered her eyes to the table of their booth as she continued chewing. Esme glowered out the window, her jaw clenched. Carlisle nudged his foot against her leg in an attempt to comfort her, but she ignored him.

It was a little over a year since the couple had gotten their daughter back. Though she had left her adoptive family and seemed to have settled into their lifestyle, the topic of their lost time together still occasionally raised its head.

The couple had had her at the tender age of 17, unbeknownst to their families. Both of them decided they were too young, too broke and already too involved in the mafia game to raise her themselves. She was adopted by the Hales, a wealthy couple of lawyers who raised her in a Manhattan townhouse and gave her the finest private education New York City had to offer. Carlisle and Esme secretly watched her grow from park benches and the back of school auditoriums. They never interacted with her or allowed her to see them, but watching her grow up safe and happy from a distance filled the void that giving her up had left.

Well, it did, until it didn’t. A year and a half ago, right before the couple finally married, Esme’s sister gave birth to her first child. The family rejoiced in the arrival of the baby boy, with Esme’s mother proudly parading her “first grandchild” around. “Aren’t you jealous, Esme?” Mrs. Platt had asked at the wedding. “You hate it when others have something you don’t.”

“No, mom, I don’t get jealous,” came her answer. Carlisle stifled a laugh at that. The death certificate of his previous wife proved otherwise.

“I always thought you’d be the one to give me my first,” Mrs. Platt continued, causing her daughter to bristle. “But your little sister has beaten you to it.”

Esme’s knuckles went white around the champaign glass she held. “She’s just drunk, baby,” Carlisle muttered in her ear. “Fuggedaboutit.”

But it didn’t matter. Esme’s moods worsened in the weeks that followed as she grieved 17 years’ worth of parenting the daughter they tried to do right by. She stopped parking outside the Hales’ Upper East Side building in hopes of catching a glimpse of the girl, or regularly checking her social media pages for updates on how she was doing. Carlisle knew it had become too difficult for her, particularly when her sister got to be a mother so openly. Mrs. Platt was right; Esme hated going without what others had. And Carlisle could never let her go without.

So one day, he pulled his yellow Alfa Romeo into the garage of the couple’s home and paged Esme to meet him there. “Hey doll,” he greeted her from against the bonnet as she entered and closed the door behind her. “I gotcha somethin’.”

She looked around in confusion. Normally when he asked her to come to the garage it meant he had bought her a new car. “What?” She wondered, but before her husband could respond, she was answered by a chorus of thumping and muffled screaming from the trunk.

“Who’s in there?” Esme asked, bored. Visitors to their home arriving by car trunk wasn’t exactly new. He grinned at her smugly as the thumping continued. “What?” She said again, but he could tell he had piqued her interest. He sauntered over to the trunk and opened it, a flurry of blond immediately lunging at him from inside. Esme instinctively reacted with a raised gun, but as Carlisle restrained the girl, her eyes widened and she lowered her weapon. “Is that…?”

He beamed at her as Rosalie struggled in his arms. Her wrists and ankles were tied, but still she writhed around. Her eyes blazed with a mixture of anger and fear, and duct tape covered her mouth. “Take that thing off of her,” Esme commanded. “I wanna proper look.”

“Hold still or it’ll hurt,” Carlisle told the girl. She stopped wriggling long enough that he could gently remove the tape without ripping her skin. She immediately attempted to bite his hand, but he was too fast. Then came an ear-piercing screech that caused both adults to wince, but Esme was smiling.

“You wait,” Rosalie said once she was finished screaming, her voice hoarse. “Just you wait. If it’s money you want, good luck. You might as well kill me now.”

“She looks just like you,” Esme said as if she hadn’t heard her, though she didn’t take her eyes off the girl. “We knew it already, but up close, it’s crazy. I didn’t get a look-in.”

Rosalie’s face contorted to an expression of both confusion and disgust. “What the fuck…?”

Carlisle laughed at her exaggerated expressiveness; the narrowed eyes, the over-the-top frown, the grimace that caused her cheeks to apple. He had seen Esme pull that face a million times before. “I wouldn’t be so sure,” he told her as they both went back to staring at Rosalie — who was attempting to naw at the rope around her wrists — with the kind of fascination people usually reserved for newborn babies.

“Carl, untie her,” Esme instructed. He gave her a hard look, thinking it was a terrible idea. She arched an eyebrow in response, and he knew better than to argue with her.

“Wait ‘til my father hears about this,” Rose grumbled as he began cutting through the thick rope. That amused him, and he couldn’t help but grin. “What’s so funny?” She demanded.

He shook his head. “Nothin’,” he tried, but he heard Esme giggle and he started laughing again.

Rosalie’s face flushed angrily as she looked wildly from her almost-free hands to Esme and then to Carlisle. “I said, what’s. So. Funny?” She said it slowly and punctuated, as if she thought he was stupid. Esme’s laugh was turning into the loud cackle she gave when she was particularly thrilled. He sniffed with a smile and shook his head again.

Rosalie was then red-faced, her eyes flashing with rage. “What the fuck is so funny, you piece of shit?”

The couple collapsed into full belly-laughs for what had to have been at least a full minute as Rosalie could do nothing but glare. “It’s funny—“ Carlisle started, pausing to try and compose himself. “It’s funny that you said ‘wait ‘til my father hears about this,’ because I am your father.”

Rosalie rolled her eyes, irritated. She clearly thought that was his lame attempt at a joke.

“It’s true, saweetie,” Esme tried to turn her amusement into a sincere-looking smile. “Your our daughter. I’m your mommy! Were you ever told you were adopted?”

“What kind of weirdos are you?” Rosalie mused, her eyes still narrowed. “Don’t normal kidnappers just tie someone up and leave them be ‘til they’re paid ransom or get arrested? What is this, some sort of house-play shit? I saw something about that on TLC once.”

“Look, princess,” Carlisle started, struggling to get the blade through another bit of rope. “I know it’s a lot to take in, but it’s the truth. I didn’t bundle you up in my car for money, or to hurt you. I bundled you up in my car to bring ya home, where you belong. We’ve missed you your whole life, and now that you’re a lil’ older, we’d love to make up for lost time.”

She looked silently from one to the other. Carlisle could see that it would take a while to convince her. She was suspicious, defensive, and unyieldingly stubborn. Just like her parents.

“Whadiya say, kid?” He smiled at her. “Wontcha give your ol’ man a hug?”

The last of the rope snapped and Rosalie immediately punched him so hard in the nose that it made a horrible crack. He held it as she tried getting away, having seemingly forgotten about the rope around her ankles.

The pair of them allowed her to hop around the garage as both exits were locked. Esme handed him a tissue for his bloody nose and they stood side-by-side against the car, watching Rosalie noisily hunt for something she could either free her ankles or hurt them with. It took him a second to realise Esme was quietly crying.

“Don’t worry, doll,” he put a consoling arm around her and pulled her into him. “She’ll come round eventually. She just needs time. And maybe a car, or a pony, or whadevathefuck teen girls are into deeze days. Whadeva it takes, we’ll do it.”

“It’s not that,” Esme swiped at her tears and turned to him. He was surprised to see she was smiling.

“Then what? What is it, baby?”

Esme wiped another tear away as she proudly cried, “she’s got my uppercut!”

Getting the three of them to work as a family unit had been no easy feat. After showing her the paperwork that proved they were her biological parents, the couple brought Rosalie back to her adoptive home the same evening they had taken her from it in an attempt to show her they were no danger. She didn’t tell the Hales about what had happened, instead blaming her broken curfew on losing track of time while at a friend’s house. Carlisle knew that this was more out of anger at them for lying to her her whole life than it was out of loyalty to the Cullanos. The couple returned to watching her, but this time it was on a daily basis, and they made sure she saw them either by waving across the street or approaching her if she was alone. They often arrived with bribes, but she rolled her eyes each time.

“Hi, Rosalieeee,” Esme sung one day, the two of them having waited for her to get home at the corner of her block. “How was school?”

“Get lost,” Rose muttered as she went to walk past them as usual. Carlisle caught her arm, so she begrudgingly came to a halt and rounded on them with a glare. “What? What do you want?”

“I bought us matchin’ Birkins!” Esme said excitedly, unfazed by Rosalie’s attitude. She held up her arms, each hand gripping the handles of a bag.

“I already have expensive bags. I don’t need more. You know what? I already have parents, too.”

“Who had about as much of a hand in raisin’ you as we did,” Carlisle said. “Tell me, Rosie, which nanny was it you used to mistake for your motha?”

She flinched for a second before recovering her steely expression. “I told you not to call me that. You don’t get to give me a nickname. You don’t get to ask me how my day was. You don’t get to wait around for me every single day. Seriously, you’re both stalkers. You’re already breaking the law by seeking me out before I’m 18. Stop before I call the police and report you for harassment.”

“I don’t think you will,” Esme said gently.

“Oh yeah? What makes you so confident?”

“If that’s what you wanted, you’d have done it already.”

There was a pause. Esme took her chance to hand Carlisle a bag, freeing a hand to caress Rosalie’s arm. “Look, sweetheart. All we’re askin’ for is for you to get to know us. If you get to know us, and you decide you want nothin’ to do with us, we’ll walk away, no questions asked.”

Rosalie considered this for a moment, then looked back and forth at the two of them. “You swear?”

Carlisle traced the cross-my-heart motion on his chest. “Hope to die.”

“Promise,” Esme said firmly.

She let out a sigh. “Fine. But how will it work? I can’t just disappear to go live with you. I’m in my senior year, and my parents would have the mayor turn the city upside-down looking for me.”

“Well, they work ‘til late, right? So we’ll start pickin’ you up from school, and get you back before they come home,” Carlisle said.

“No, you can’t pick me up. Friends will see me getting into some random car. Plus, I’ll have homework...studying....that kinda thing.”

“Ahrite-ahrite,” he nodded. “Responsible, I like it. Education is very impawtant.”

Rosalie rolled her eyes again. “Yeah, it seems to have played a huge role in your life.”

“How about we get you a cell that you can use specifically for us?” Esme asked. “And you can call or text us whenever you’re finished with schoolwork? We can take ya out to eat or...well, do whateva you wanna do.”

Rosalie paused again. “Do I get to pick the phone?”

“Of course,” Esme smiled. She had told Carlisle the bribes would pay off eventually.

“What about your...business?” Rosalie asked curiously. They hadn’t explicitly told her what they did, but she was bright enough to guess.

“We do most of our work at night, anyway,” Esme answered.

And so the months that followed were filled with evening family bonding. Rosalie would call or text, they’d go out to eat, do different things around NYC or Jersey City, drop her home, go take care of business, get home either a little before or after dawn, and sleep while she was at school. She seemed to enjoy her time with them; she never said she was happy to continue allowing them to be in her life, but she never again brought up wanting them to leave her alone, either. So they continued the way they were as her 18th birthday drew closer.

One evening, when the family had gone go-karting, Carlisle noticed Rosalie’s ability to drive with extraordinary speed and precision. He decided to test it out in an actual car, just the two of them, and was thrilled to discover this skill was transferable.

“Guess what, baby?” He approached Esme from behind at their kitchen counter the next afternoon, wrapping his arms around her and resting his chin on her shoulder.

“What?” She smiled sleepily as she prepared breakfast, though it was 1pm.

“I think I’ve found us a driver.”

“Really? Who?”

“Rosie.”

She frowned and pulled away so she could properly look him in the face. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Remember how great she was when we went go-kartin’? Well, I brought her to a track last night and she was amazin’. Turns out she’s actually really into cars — kid knows more about ‘em than me!”

“First of all, drivin’ round an empty racetrack at night is very different from drivin’ the streets when you’re fleein’ a scene or bein’ chased,” Esme said, pulling fully out of his arms and heading for the sink. “Second, Rosie’s goin’ to college.”

“Whadiyamean, she’s goin’ to college?”

“I mean what the fuck I said: she’s goin’ to college!”

“We just got the kid back and now you’re gonna send her off to some otha parta the country to go to college?”

She turned back to him with a glare. “The whole reason we left her in the first place was so that she could have a normal life. College is a normal life.”

“Normal life? She was bounced around from nanny to nanny! We didn’t give her a life with normal parents, we gave her human cash cows and babysitters!”

“Well, at least she was safe.”

“We’d never let anyone hurt her.”

“We couldn’t guarantee that. We still can’t. That’s why she should go to college like the rest of her friends.”

“What, because college is so safe for young girls? Have you neva read a newspaper?”

“Don’t tell me about the dangers young women face,” she practically growled.

“She’d be with us,” he said, his tone much softer. “Where else could possibly be safer for her to be than with the two people who’d die for her?”

She stared at the counter for a moment. “Her 18th is comin’ up,” she said slowly. “That’s her opportunity to decide if she wants to come live with us or not. If she does, she does; if she doesn’t, she goes to college like the private-school kid she is should. But I don’t wanna force her like we did last time. If she chooses us, I want it to be because she chooses us.”

“Okay,” Carlisle smiled, then added, “and she will.”

And she did. She turned 18, deciding to finish out the school year where she had always lived. After graduation, she packed her bags, told the Hales she knew the truth and that she was leaving them for good, and came to live in the Cullano house. The Hales were a little persistent in trying to convince her to come back to them, but it was nothing that couldn’t be solved by sending Emmett, the most intimidating-looking member of the crew, over to their house to smash a couple of things up. As Carlisle had envisioned, Rose started driving for the Cullanos and their team, initially just the occasional, stress-free errand here and there. But she found it brought a certain amount of thrill and excitement her life had been missing, and so she worked her way up to riskier jobs. This trip to Boston would be her riskiest job yet.

“Is everyone done?” Carlisle now asked. Esme still had a slice left over while Rosalie sat with nothing but crust in front of her.

“Mmhmm,” Rose answered. Esme mumbled something about being full.

They gathered their things and headed back to the borrowed Bugatti that Emmett had arranged for them. Though Emmett was a Brooklyn boy, Boston was his father’s city, and he had relatives all around it. Relatives that would be more than happy to see the Cullanos through what they planned to do tonight.

Rosalie set the GPS to their hotel. “How many Ivanovs are there, again?”

“Six— well, 4 Ivanovs, a Petrov and a Ryan,” Esme answered from the back.

“Who’s the head?”

“Mmm, Tatiana. Or at least she thinks she is,” Esme smiled.

“Is she the one who...did she kill Emmett’s dad?” Rosalie met Esme’s eyes in the rear view mirror. She had developed a bit of a soft spot for Emmett over her time with them.

“No,” Carlisle answered instead. “That was Katarina and Garrett.”

“Garrett doesn’t sound very Russian.”

“Garrett is the Ryan. Irish mob, like Emmett’s dad,” Carlisle said.

“They worked together ‘til he fell for Katarina,” Esme added. “So it was a real blow when the two of them killed him. A big betrayal.”

“Then how come no one’s taken them out yet?”

“They’re powerful. Ruthless. Batshit crazy,” Carlisle said.

“Look who’s talking,” Rose said with a slight smile.

“That’s why Emmett’s mother left here and raised him in Brooklyn,” Esme said. “That’s where she grew up, so she knew she’d be safe. The Ivanovs have people everywhere around Boston. And with a target on the back of every McCarthy, stayin’ woulda been a death sentence.”

Rosalie frowned then. “If they’re that bad, what are we doing here? There’s three of us— two, technically, since I’m just the wheels. Those don’t seem like very good odds.”

“There’s also Alice, virtually,” Carlisle reminded. “She’ll be there behind every camera to tell us what we’re dealin’ with.”

“Cool, so she can say, ‘hey guys, you’re about to die’ right before we die. Helpful.”

“It is helpful,” Esme said. “Even the shortest of warnin’s can buy you just enough time to save your life.”

“Besides, we’re not plannin’ a massacre,” Carlisle said. “I’m expectin’ only one to be there. We hit ‘em, we go. Then we’re even for how they fucked us over with the Kiev deal they were supposed to facilitate.”

“So it’s...a blind hit? It doesn’t matter who you get, as long as you get one of them?”

Carlisle nodded. “But it would be...convenient, if it was Tatiana.”

Once they got back to the hotel, they freshened up and changed. The couple pulled out the stuffed bags Emmett had also organised for them. They took only what they needed, a couple of guns and knives each, and shoved the rest back under the bed.

“Don’t forget my favourite,” Carlisle smirked, waving Esme’s thigh holsters in the air.

“Never,” she said, holding up two pistols that were identical to her favourites back home. “Put them on for me?”

He knelt down, lifted up her skirt and strapped one around her right thigh. Then he moved to her left as she slotted her gun into it. After buckling the left one, he ran his hand down her inner thigh, causing her to giggle. Rosalie burst through the door of their adjoining rooms and froze as she registered them, her face immediately screwing up in disgust.

“Oh, for shit’s sake,” she said. “Get a room.”

“This is our room,” Carlisle pointed out.

She rolled her eyes. “Why aren’t you in all-black?”

She was wearing head-to-toe black like they taught her, as she always did. Carlisle was dressed like an office worker from Mad Men, while Esme looked like a housewife from the 50s. Neither of them said anything.

“This isn’t one of your weird sex things, is it? Like, you can’t possibly get off on killing people together?”

The silence continued. “Ugh, don’t answer that.”

They made their way down to the car and Rosalie silently drove them to a street two blocks down from the address they’d given her. As the pair got ready, she drummed her fingers against the wheel.

“You scared?” Carlisle asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“No,” she said, a little too forcefully.

Esme leaned forward into the gap between the two front seats and put a hand under Rosalie’s chin, directing her so she could look at her intently. “Remember the plan. Stay inside the car at all times. Stay put here, lights off, engine off. Only turn it on when you see us. Or when you see people who aren’t us carryin’ guns. If that happens, you drive and you drive and you don’t ever stop. Same goes if we’re gone past, mmm, a half hour. Forty minutes, tops. There’s a loaded gun in the glovebox if you need it. Got it?” Rosalie nodded. “Good.”

“Stay safe, princess,” Carlisle kissed her on the cheek, opening his door. “Love ya.”

He closed the door and Esme took her hand and squeezed it. “Everything will be fine. But in case it isn’t, you know what to do. I love you, sweetheart.”

She nodded wordlessly again. She never said it back; it was probably still too weird for her. But she swallowed tightly. Esme brought the hand she held onto up to her lips and kissed her knuckles. She then let go and opened the door.

“Esme?” Rose choked out just as she was about to close it.

“Yeah, honey?”

“Come back to me, like you did before.”

Now Esme was the one who could do nothing but nod. And with that, she closed the door, and the couple walked off into the night.

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cathrrrine · 3 years

Text

RUN | Pietro x Reader

Originally from my Wattpad

CHAPTER 14 - SLUG

"Let's begin with your name."

"You already know my name." I groaned.

"Your real name."

I sighed, "You already know it. My real name is Y/N L/N."

"See? Not so bad." Natasha rolled her eyes as she tilted her head slightly to the left, a mannerism of hers that she often displayed. "Now, your age."

"Oh, that's strictly confidential." I shook my head curtly.

"Y/N..." She warned.

"All I can tell you is that I'm an adult."

She raised an eyebrow in defiance, but she didn't push further. Natasha had brought me to an interrogation room, yet again, but this time it was a different one. It didn't have the big, ugly two-way mirror attached to the wall and instead of hard, uncomfortable chairs, this one had couches. Natasha sat on the one across from me, while I had been instructed to sit on the one with it's back to the wall. The room was annoyingly comfortable, in a way that made me want to vandalise every single object in a room.

It looked like they believed my surrender after all and the change in the way they handled me showed that. For starters, I wasn't in handcuffs. But, to be fair, I guess being in the same room with Romanoff was more than enough security, maybe even more than being cuffed.

Even if I knew I could fight her well.

"I don't need to tell you twice. You lie about anything at all, the deal's off."

It was another interrogation session. Oh my god, I hate that word. I hate even just thinking about it. I've thought about it and said it at least twelve thousand times, and frankly, I've gotten tired of it. If they kept this up, S.H.I.E.L.D would have wrung me dry by the end of the week.

If I wasn't so adamant on surviving, I would've thrown myself off the side of the building by now.

"Don't you think I've been through enough interrogations?" I voiced my thoughts aloud to the redhead in front of me, picking at my nails in boredom.

"There's no such thing as enough interrogations."

"God, you people are scrutinising." That earned me a huff. "And you make me yawn."

"Better safe than sorry, that's the motto." She replied sarcastically. "Next question, how long have you been with Hydra?"

That escalated quickly.

I gulped automatically, not out of fear, but out of habit. "Ever since..." I was born. "For as long as I can remember."

I wasn't lying. But that didn't mean I had to tell the whole truth.

"And you left when?"

"As soon as I could." On my 18th birthday.

"Why?"

"There it is! The hard-hitting question. I've been waiting for that one." This was harder than I thought it would be.

"Why did you leave Hydra?" Natasha repeated the question without a hitch.

"Well, I didn't like it."

"That's all?"

"What do you mean that's all? You don't like something, you leave. Common sense."

She stared at me intently. I've gotta say, she does this thing a whole lot better than Fury. I could technically see the gears in her head turning, calculating every emotion and every word. This woman knew how to play me at my own game. She didn't crack at the silence that ensued. My skin almost crawled at her stare.

Keyword, almost.

"Staring's not going to drag the answer out of my throat, you know." I leaned back on the soft, velvet couch.

They said I had to be honest for them to trust me, but honest hadn't even been in my vocabulary until 12 hours ago. What did they expect me to do? Immediately lose every sense of self-worth and start throwing every single fact about my life, every detail of the trauma that I've endured–to them?

Doing this meant saving my life, but it also meant having to give up at least a sliver of my secrets. Was it worth trading my secrets to these people for my life? Why did the price have to be so goddamn high?

I took a deep breath. "I was 10."

"Pardon?"

"When they first ordered me to kill someone."

I remember the weight of the gun in my small hands, the smell of blood in the air when I shot the man, and the sound of his body thumping on the gravel in the dead of the night.

"I don't remember who it was or why I had to kill him. But I remember enough to know that it was..." I trailed off against my will, the memory getting the best of me. As if the whole situation wasn't already pathetic.

I cleared my throat. "I remember enough to know that it wasn't right. I felt it in my bones."

Natasha stayed silent, willing me to continue. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying I'm an angel or whatever. As I grew up I understood that I didn't want to be associated with these people. Hydra wasn't exactly a paradise, obviously. But it took me a while to understand that. And once I did, I took off."

"And they've been looking for you, ever since?"

"Yes."

"Does that explain yesterday's events?"

Him. "Unfortunately."

"How long?"

"How long, what?"

"Have you been running from them?"

My mind went blank. How many years has it been? Time looked like one long line for me. I mentally calculated the amount of days, months, years that it took for me to hide.

"6, 7? I don't remember how long it's been." I bit down on my lower lip, hard. "No one's ever asked. I never bothered to keep count either."

She nodded, uncrossing and recrossing her legs and shaking out her hair. The redhead woman seemed to contemplate what she was about to say next. For a second there, I was curious. How unsettling could the question be to make her visibly bothered?

When the words spilled out of her mouth, I wish I never wondered. "This is an important question—are you Enhanced?"

I winced. One question, out of all the other ones, was all it took the break the dam that I've built in my head. Memories came flooding back in, in flashes, in the aches of my muscles, pouring mercilessly into the forefront of my brain.

Muffled voices, bright fluorescent lights shining into my eyes, cold-sweats...my head pounded vigorously. I pinched the bridge of my nose, praying hard that I was hiding my discomposure well from her.

Was it worth it?

"You have to be honest, Y/N. We need to know if we can trust you."

Strenuous hands pulling at me, strapping me down, dilated pupils, the whirring of their monstrous machines...

"Yes, Natasha. I am."

———

SIX HOURS EARLIER

"She can't be trusted."

"She's done nothing that says so, so far."

"How do you know that, Maximoff? She's sly. She's sneaky. This could just be another game of hers."

"We could be very well falling into a trap right now."

"Send me in." Natasha crossed her arms, her expression unreadable. "I'll get her to tell us what we need."

"I don't doubt your interrogation skills, Nat, but do you really think it's a good idea? I mean, she's a lot like you." Clint remarked.

"That's exactly why I should go." There was an air of mystery to the way she insisted upon it.

They all looked to their Captain for his approval. Steve had both palms on the table, his head slightly bowed. He looked up to his team, eyeing every single one of them before his eyes landed on Natasha's.

"She's right." He stood up straight, mirroring Natasha's pose. "Nat, you bring her to the interrogation room. Do whatever you need to make her talk. Get all the information we need to know about her; her past, her abilities, her name for God's sake."

The redhead nodded, gesturing for him to continue.

"Wanda, I want you to sit in the next room. Read her mind. Make sure she's telling the truth."

"But-"

"Pietro, you go with her, make sure things don't go out of hand. And don't worry, kid. She can't hurt you, especially not when she's basically just waved the white flag."

He paused for awhile before continuing. "If it ultimately goes well...we should let her into the team."

"Are you kidding me?" Tony bit back.

"No. She's an asset. She's got useful information and skills we could put to use."

"Steve. What if she goes rogue, huh? And she decides to wake up one day and kill us all? This is a situation bound to go awry. We can't let a former Hydra agent in just like that." Tony ran a hand across his face before adding another comment. "I made the mistake of giving her the benefit of the doubt before and it only got us in trouble."

Steve pondered upon Tony's opinion for a while before nodding once and announcing his decision. "So, we put her on probation. Let her know that she's not totally off the hook, see where it'll lead."

"Rogers, are you sure about this?" Natasha pursed her lips.

"Yes." He uncrossed his arms and put his hands on his hips, in true Captain America fashion. "Let her know that she'll be pardoned if she tells the whole truth. Maybe it'll encourage her. I'll inform Fury about this whole thing."

The meeting room was silent for a while before the team began to disperse. Steve was the last one to go, but not before Natasha stopped him.

"Rogers. I need to tell you something."

———

PRESENT TIME

She looked surprised, but not as much as I thought she would be. I was expecting a little bit more than raised eyebrows. Maybe even a gasp. "What can you do?"

I chuckled dryly, "Maybe it's better to show than tell."

It was her turn to chuckle, not an ounce of humour in it. "Now's not the time for your sweet little antics. This isn't a talent show."

"Oh, really? Then what is this? I thought I was auditioning for your makeshift boyband."

"Well, maybe if you talked more and sassed less, you'd make the cut."

I shook my head again, slowly. I had to be careful with what I told them. The walls seemed to look duller and the couch I was on felt like a boulder instead of the plush heaven that it was.

"I'm an Echo."

"What does that mean?"

"It means exactly what it sounds like. I echo people." My hands trembled slightly at the mention of it. "I absorb other people's powers and I amplify it."

This was as much as I've ever told anyone ever since I ran from Hydra. Genuinely? I'm a little freaked out at the fact that I just did so. But it had to be the right decision. I couldn't afford to make another wrong turn.

Besides, I was in control here. I had the choice to tell them what I wanted to tell them and what I wanted to keep from them. I figured they should know that I had that little something up my sleeve this entire time.

After all; they were my only lifeline at the moment.

"Was that how you beat us the night we caught you?"

I thought back to that night, when I ran as fast as Pietro did and broke through the barriers of the Witch's force field. I shrugged, not bothering to please her with a response.

"Tell me more about your past."

I narrowed my eyes at her, "Really, Romanov? Digging for more? I already gave you enough, don't you think?"

Natasha blinked once, but didn't back down. "I ask, you answer. That was the deal, wasn't it?"

The smile didn't reach my eyes when I jut out a grin at her. "What do you wanna know about my past?"

"The basics. Where you're from, how you're here."

"I'm half-Russian." I shrugged. "And you already know how I got here."

"No. I know how you came to S.H.I.E.L.D. We brought you here. What I need to know is how you got into this whole ordeal."

A scoff escaped me, "Is this a therapy session or an interrogation?"

"Y/N."

"No, seriously, you're asking me about things that don't matter-"

"Y/N." She repeated, more sternly.

I tucked my arms to my chest so I wouldn't flinch as I said the words that haunted me.

The ones I knew haunted her too.

"I was born into it." My tongue felt heavy. "They raised me in the Red Room."

For the first time since we started, Natasha Romanoff gasped. It was barely audible, and it wasn't the show-stopping theatre moment I'd been looking for, but it was a gasp in itself. It's funny, though. I thought I'd be more amused. But the heavy feeling that sat on my chest drained all the humour out of me.

Natasha immediately rose from her seat, staring at me with possessed eyes. Her face had gone white as sheet, her lips pale.

"What did you say?"

"You heard me, Romanov."

She sauntered over to me, one foot stepping in front of the other. "Don't you dare lie to me."

"I'm not." My voice was weaker than I would've liked it to be, barely above a whisper. "I was trained in the Red Room. As soon as I was old enough, they shipped me off to the hands of Hydra."

She wasn't listening as intently anymore. Her eyes were locked on mine, but I could tell she wasn't exactly in the room anymore. Her head's probably off in the same place mine was in just a few minutes ago.

"Is that enough for you?"

Just like that, something snapped within her. "Tell me more."

"I already did."

"You're hiding something!"

I stood up so I was level to her height, my eyebrows knitting in anger. "I gave you what you wanted. I gave you the truth."

"No." She shook her head. "I want the full one."

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

She trudged towards me, lifting up her shirt so her abdomen was exposed. "Do you know who gave this to me?"

It was a long scar on her hip, positioned slightly to the left of her belly button, the skin raised and bumpy. "How the hell am I supposed to know?"

"I got this on one of my first missions. I was assigned to escort a nuclear scientist out of Iran." She seethed. "We were ambushed by Hydra at the rendezvous in Odessa. My tires got shot, the car ran off a cliff."

"Where are you going with this?"

"I managed to save us both. But as soon as I did, the assassin who ambushed us open fired. Killed the scientist. Straight through me. Left one hell of a scar." She let go of the hem of her shirt. "A soviet slug."

It was my turn to grow pale. There was only one person who could do that. And I was far from ready to say his name.

"You knew him didn't you? I should've known all along."

"How?" I begged, the somewhat 'calm' demeanour I've tried hard to keep was long gone.

"Does it matter?" Her gaze was threatening. "You were trained by The Winter Soldier, weren't you Y/N L/N?"

#the winter soldier #damn i couldnt wait to write that #run pietro x reader #pietro x reader #pietro maximoff #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #miss romanoff hello maam can u pls step on me? thx #avengers #avengers reader insert #avengers x reader #wanda maximoff #steve rogers #pietro fanfiction

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blossom-hwa · 3 years

Text

Prologue (CHAN) - |Breathe, and Live|

And so we begin the fluff :) Enjoy single dad chan!

Pairing: Chan x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, angst, slice of life, single parent!au

Triggers: allusions to sex

Word Count: 1.7k

Chan is lost, so lost, and sometimes it feels like the walls are caving in. But he’ll make it, he knows. He has to, for the two little boys cradled in his arms who he loves more than anything he has in the world.

SKZ Masterlist | Breathe, and Live | Touching Stars (TBZ teacher!au)

She tells him at precisely five fourteen in the afternoon, voice dead but panicked, on a crowded bus full of people, words crackling over the phone.

“Chan, I’m pregnant.”

The walls are silent. His laptop, too, since he paused the track to pick up the call. He can’t speak, can’t breathe. It deafens him. It squeezes at his head, pounds against his temples, fills his ears with static buzzing.

His vision blurs. Something rises in his throat.

Chan thinks he might throw up.

How? his mind screams. He’s always been careful, always used a condom. She takes birth control, takes the pill every morning after. It doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t fucking make sense.

But you can never be sure, the rational part of his brain unhelpfully supplies.

The droning voice of his old sex-ed teacher back in Australia fills his mind. “The only way to be sure is to practice abstinence.”

Back then, he’d snorted quietly in the back with his friends, elbowed them and smirked and didn’t bother paying attention to the rest of the lecture. What was the point, anyway? Chan may not be as cautious as his parents – the impulse decision to stay in Korea for university, even after his family moved back, is proof of that – but he’s tried to be careful with this. Cautious, respectful, caring.

That kind of thing would never happen to him.

Somewhere, somehow, he hears her saying his name. Between the noise in the background and the ringing in his ears, it’s muffled. Disjointed.

“Okay,” he manages to choke out. “Okay.”

What else can he say?

Her voice sounds hoarse now, even over the tinny phone speakers. She’s crying, or on the verge of it – Chan’s known her long enough recognize the catch in her words that signals the lump in her throat. “I – Chan, I don’t –” She gasps. “I don’t think I want to keep it.”

It takes a moment to understand. But the minute he does, there’s only horror. Sharp, clear, precise. It pierces his chest, breaking through the foggy cloud of his brain.

He wants to scream, yell at her, how could she think of that? How could she not want to keep the child that’s depending on her?

But his sister’s voice cuts through his swirling thoughts. “No uterus, no opinion.” Hannah’s dark eyes, quiet but challenging, flash across the restaurant table, voice cutting through the debate going on across from her. “You don’t own anyone’s body but your own.”

He’d agreed then. He still agrees now.

So he takes a deep breath and tries to understand. They’re young. Stupid. He’s in his last year of university, she’s on a gap year. They’re barely old enough to function in society on their own. It’s understandable. And more importantly, it’s her body. Her choice.

Another deep breath, a bit shakier this time. He settles his mind. “Come home first,” he says quietly, trying to sound as reassuring as possible. “Come home first. We’ll talk about it then, okay?”

There’s a sniff on the other end. “Okay,” she breathes. “Okay.”

The call ends. Chan sits still for a moment, staring at some random section of the wall, thinking but not really seeing. The paint is peeling. The lights are glaring. The university studio, the place he thinks of essentially as a second home, suddenly feels cloistering. Unwelcoming. It feels like some disgusting, warped metaphor for his life.

He buries his head in his hands and tries to breathe.

. . .

Chan can barely face her parents. It’s not that he doesn’t want to. He really wants to tell things upfront, give them his apologies and promise that he’ll do anything to help them out, but they just look at him with smoldering, narrowed eyes. There’s no endearment in her mother’s expression anymore, no quiet pride in her father’s, as though he was another son. There’s only hatred. Disgust. Disappointment.

With a thick tongue and embarrassment coloring his face, he swears up and down that they used protection. She doesn’t say anything, just looks down with a sort of hopeless expression on her face and occasionally nods or shakes her head in accordance with what he’s saying.

They blame him. That much is certain. Privately, Chan thinks that’s a little unfair, but given that the woman bears the brunt of the pregnancy much more than the man, he lets it go. It’s understandable. After all, he blames himself a lot, too.

His parents act a little better. They’ve known him for all twenty-one years of his life, known how he always tries to treat people with respect, with care. Chan can still hear the disappointment and worry in their hushed voices over the phone, but it’s okay. It’s better than hatred.

She doesn’t want the child, she makes that clear. Her parents don’t want it either. They want to adopt it out.

On the other hand, Chan, well… it’s fucking hard. He’s barely finished with university, barely gotten started with his life. And he’s in the damn music industry. Unless he makes it big, there won’t be a lot of opportunities to sort out his life.

But he wants the child. Even though it’s going to be difficult taking care of her through the pregnancy, then making a path with the baby in tow, he wants it. He doesn’t want to give this up.

So they settle. She’ll have the baby. Once it’s born, she’ll take care of some of the bills if she can. Otherwise, Chan is the guardian.

It isn’t so bad, not at first. There’s the morning sickness to contend with, but they live together. It isn’t too hard for Chan to take some time to take care of her. They make the doctor’s trips together, and seven weeks into the pregnancy, they find out they’re having twins.

(Well, Chan is having twins. Her face screws up just the slightest amount, not in disgust but not in something nice either. Chan elects to ignore it and focuses on his own happiness.)

He works like a madman, sending off tracks to companies, submitting others for homework. He performs when he can, picking up any possible extra paychecks. She works, too, so money isn’t an issue yet. Chan also thanks all the higher beings above that she’s on a gap year, so he’s the only one adding homework to the equation.

The storm starts brewing in the fifth or sixth month, maybe. They’re having two boys, and they like to remind her that they’re there. She doesn’t feel well a lot of the time and has the crankiness to prove it. Still, she helps when she doesn’t have cramps, though she does complain about the weight gain.

But the number of nights where they’re up at odd hours only increases. The boys like to kick. Their mother wants to scream. Chan doesn’t even think he has a brain at this point – any cells up in his head have just been pounded to mush.

On one bad night, when she’s almost crying of exhaustion and the babies won’t stop fucking moving, Chan brings out his laptop. His fingers fly over the keyboard, tweaking soft beats, changing notes, composing a short little melody.

It’s rough, nothing substantial, something completely opposite from the polished tracks he makes for class. No lyrics. There’s just a simple piano melody backed by some guitar chords and it’s probably not going to do anything to help but Chan’s this close to just ripping out his hair and screaming for the entire city of Seoul to hear. He has to try something.

He almost deletes the track by mistake and has a mini heart attack, but he saves it with shaking fingers and brings the laptop over to the bed. She’s lying there, hair a mess, eyes red, but there’s some relief in her gaze as he puts the device on the sheets next to her and hits play.

It works. It fucking works. The babies slowly stop kicking, and she eventually falls asleep.

For just a moment, Chan sits on the edge of the bed and takes in the calm, soaks in the silence broken only by the track playing softly in the background. He rubs his eyes once, twice, clears the fog that obscured his vision.

Maybe he can do this. Maybe he can raise these two kids, even if he’s the only parent they have. Maybe there’s the tiniest fucking chance in the world that he can really be a good father, someone for his children to look up to and love. Maybe there’s a chance that he can really have this family.

Four months later, she gives birth to two healthy baby boys. Jisung is born first at 11:58 p.m. on September 14, while Yongbok comes next at 12:11 a.m. on September 15.

Chan holds them close as soon as he’s able, in awe of their tiny faces, their tiny limbs and tiny eyes.

How did he manage to create such life?

“Give them English names,” she says tiredly, her voice barely a whisper. She looks at them too, a bit sadly, with some care, but distantly. “They’re yours.”

A tinge of bitterness spikes in his chest, but it dissolves as he looks back into the faces of his two boys. She’s right. They are his. So he decides on Peter for the baby beginning to wake on his left arm, and Felix for the boy still sleeping soundly on his right.

She’s up and out of the hospital in a matter of days. A week later, she moves back into her parents’ home, leaving Chan standing in the doorway of their apartment, two babies in his arms.

“We’ll make it together,” he whispers, watching her car disappear down the street. “Together.”

Jisung makes a little gurgling sound. Felix scrunches his nose.

The tiniest of smiles slides across Chan’s face. Yes. They’ll make it together.

He takes a breath, then heads back inside.

If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3

(1 reblog = 1 prayer for Chan, he’s going to need it :/)

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theshipsfirstmate · 3 years

Text

Black Widow Fic: No Time Left to Start Again

Post-BW, between the end and the post-credits. Yelena Belova faces life after The Snap.

No Time Left to Start Again (AO3 - wc: 4983)

She looks down to see her hands disintegrating -- fingers floating away like the wispy tufts of the dandelions that grew in their front yard in Ohio -- and Yelena thinks, Is this a cool way to die?

The question is still on her mind when she comes to, even though she’ll find out later that five years have passed since she started wondering.

She puts the pieces together as fast as she can, even though each one only makes the picture more grim. She learns she was lucky to be in the Widows’ safe house in Istanbul when it happened, even if the rancid smell of the rotted fridge makes her gag and there’s a hole in the ceiling and straight through the floor from a bathtub left running.

She learns that the best estimates say it was half of the population that floated away with her that day, and has now returned just as abruptly. The world wasn't ready for them to go, and it is even less prepared for them to return. Cities are plunged into chaos in an instant, governments and aid organizations just starting to steady themselves after half a decade of desolation get the rug pulled out from them once again.

She learns that her phone still works, even if internet service is shit, thanks to dwindling maintenance and overloaded servers. She learns that the Avengers are fighting a war for the fate of the universe (again), somewhere in upstate New York. And she learns, quickly, where she needs to go next.

“Малышка.”

Melina greets her at the gate with an unexpected softness -- so different than the last time -- and Yelena wonders if the woman has simply spent the last five years alone with her pigs, if they've felt any different than the twenty before. Then, Alexi steps out the door behind her, and she realizes that they have.

“So, neither of you…” Yelena starts to ask as they let her in, though she doesn't really have to. She can see the years on them both, and for a moment, she's a child with a family once again.

My mother is going grey at her temples. My father's glasses are thicker than they used to be.

They both have deeper crinkles at the corners of their eyes and Yelena finds herself hoping that it’s laughter that’s left them there.

“For five years we've been on our own,” Alexi answers, but he can't help himself a little smirk before he continues, “and moss grows fat on a rolling stone.”

He doesn't smell so bad this time, when he wraps her in a bear hug. Mercifully, he's shaved and taken to civilian clothes -- she decides to keep to herself how much she dislikes his new handlebar mustache.

“You did?” Melina guesses, and Yelena nods her agreement into Alexi’s chest before he relents and lets her go.

When she turns back to face the question, she finds herself on the receiving end of a look that feels equal parts discerning and maternal. That too, she remembers from her childhood.

“Are you alright?”

“I seem to be,” Yelena answers, gesturing down to her hands, tangible once more. There won't be an answer that satisfies the woman scientifically, she’ll have to be proof enough. “I don't remember any of it.”

What she truly doesn't expect from Melina is a hug, and it's even more surprising when it’s fiercer and longer than Alexi’s. A beat too long, Yelena realizes slowly. Alexi turns away when she tries to meet his eye, and her stomach turns over with dread.

Something else has happened. Something she doesn't know yet. Something worse.

“The report came over my comms just an hour or so before you got here,” Melina says softly, an arm reaching up to stroke the back of Yelena’s head, just like she did when she was a toddler. “It's over. The Avengers have won.”

There's the sound of splintering wood and both women step back sharply, turning to see Alexi clutching a handful of splinters that used to be the back of a dining room chair. He drops them to the ground and strides back out the door, pointedly not looking at either of them, and Yelena tastes bile in the back of her mouth.

“What else?” She tries and fails to stop herself from asking the question. It comes out on a choked kind of half-breath.

“Tony Stark is dead.” Melina answers, dropping her eyes, an uncharacteristic waver in her voice. “And it's been... harder to confirm, but we are almost certain that Natasha is too.”

In the Red Room, after the treatments, there would be a buzzing in your ears for days, like static from an old radio. Widows in training were known to be disciplined after missing commands, and would do their best to shake it off as quickly as possible, but Yelena sometimes welcomed the fuzzy silences, the chance to try and focus inward, no matter how painful.

This is nothing like that.

This is a heartbreak in a cry, a desperate, wailing sound that builds and builds, cutting through the quiet isolation of the farm compound like a knife. It's only when it gets muffled by Melina wrapping her up in her arms once more, that Yelena realizes she's the one making it.

“Малышка,” her mother whispers again -- my baby -- and Yelena can’t tell if it’s meant for her or not.

They sit around the table again that night, but dinner consists only of vodka and memories and they all try -- and fail -- not to notice the empty chair closest to the windows, the one with the broken back.

“Oh, I hated that blue hair!” Melina admits with a watery chuckle, paging through the photo album when their second bottle is nearly gone. “But she was so good at getting what she wanted.”

“You know, I begged her to dye mine too,” Yelena shares, recalling a long-forgotten memory that means something completely different now. “She said no, that she wouldn't let me be spoiled.”

Alexi interrupts the reverie before she goes too deep, laughter overtaking him as he pokes at Melina’s arm. “I remember the night she did it. You came to bed and you were so fed up, you cried! She made you cry!”

“And I punched you for laughing at me, do you remember that too?” Melina fires back, swatting his hand away.

When she was old enough to realize what had happened to her as a child, Yelena remembers scouring her memories for real moments, signs of genuine affection between the family she hadn’t known enough to question. It was difficult then, to believe any of it had been real. But sometimes now, it's not so hard.

“The only reason I was glad we left when we did, was because I knew I could never have handled her as a teenager,” Melina muses then, but there's little humor left in her voice. Yelena wonders if her face darkens in the same way as her mother’s when they think of that day on the airstrip.

It's quiet for a long moment, but Alexi never stops looking at Melina. Yelena's head is heavy from liquor and tears and she rests it on folded arms as she watches them. (Sometimes, it's not so hard to believe.)

“You didn't want to go,” her father says, low and mournful. “I should have listened.”

“You followed the orders,” her mother answers. “What was the alternative? They would have killed us and taken the girls back if we had made even one misstep.”

None of them had a way out, Yelena thinks, they never had. A super soldier and a Widow, weapons both, with daughters destined to follow in their footsteps. Maybe that's still true. Maybe there is no peace when all you've ever known is war.

But they'd had each other.

“It was real,” she murmurs, as her eyes drift closed. “Natasha said it was real.”

-----

A public memorial for Tony Stark is held on the National Mall. Steve Rogers is consecrated at the Smithsonian, again. But no one seems to know quite what to do about Natasha Romanov. The Black Widow, the female Avenger, the Russian-born assassin, only claimed by America, it seemed, when they wanted to accuse her of treason.

Still, Yelena flies to Washington DC, half-curious and half-desperate to burn off the fog she’s been wandering around in since Melina’s suspicions had been confirmed.

Captain America, the new one, had announced the events on a world-wide broadcast -- making a point to mention Natasha by name, Yelena had noticed -- and so she heads to the museum first, though she's not entirely sure what she hopes to learn. The Avengers have saved the world several times over, but those conflicts are usually reduced to heroic platitudes when it comes to the public, and she expects this to be no different.

She's mostly right, but the exhibit is worth it for a few glimpses of Natasha fighting alongside the Captain, scattered throughout the pictures and video of the Avengers’ years together. That's how she finds herself in a darkened theater, watching a compilation of newsreel footage, broadcasts and shaky cell phone shots, the valiant timeline of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes.

She feels him sit down beside her, catches the glint of metal in the sleeve of his leather jacket before she can even clock his face. Her nerves are instinctively on edge, but if he came for combat, they’d already be in it, so she stays still and quiet, waiting to follow his lead.

“ты сестра?” he asks softly. You're the sister?

Yelena turns to face him, the question and answer on her lips. But the Winter Soldier speaks again before she does.

“She showed me the pictures once. From when you were kids.”

Yelena couldn't count them if she tried, the nights she spent in the Red Room, rubbing a finger along the torn seam of her photo strip, willing the thought that Natasha was out there somewhere, holding the other half, to be enough to comfort her enough to sleep.

She turns away before he can see the tears in her eyes, but it’s no use -- they’re there in her throat when she speaks.

“They didn't even know her.” She nods back to the crowded museum and hopes he can grasp her meaning. There’s no way Natasha can be properly memorialized by government officials, who knew her as little more than a recon file, or the adoring public, who only thought of her when the world was ending.

“She liked it that way.” He means it as a comfort, but still, it makes Yelena flinch.

He notices, and she knows he understands when he tries again. “They were never gonna do her justice.”

The world never would, never could, Yelena thinks. A spy. A sister. A survivor. A lost girl, who fought her whole life for the kind of peace she’d never allow herself. These are not the people who get parades in their honor, holidays in their name.

“I will,” she says, and the stubborn tears win their battle, spilling down her cheeks. “I will do her justice.”

The Winter Soldier nods, with as much of a smile as he seems to allow himself. “I hope you will.”

Then he's gone, back the way he came, and Yelena thinks it's time to leave this city, with its buttoned-up bureaucracy and privatized secrets.

She doesn't care much about the Stark memorial, but skirts around the periphery on her way back to the airfield, catching a glimpse of the enormous photos and expensive-looking displays.

Natasha’s in these too, off to the side or just out of focus. It's starting to wear on her, the way these people seem to barely even notice the Black Widow, how quick they are to disregard one of their greatest heroes because she didn't fly or transform or wield some mystical weapon.

Shouldn’t that have made her even more impressive?

She's standing in front of a tribute to the Battle of New York just beside the bridge, weighing that unanswerable question, hands clenched unconsciously to fists, when Valentina finds her.

“I've been looking for you.” It sounds more like a taunt. I found you.

Yelena scoffs. “Probably a bad idea, if you know anything about me.”

“Oh, babe, believe me. I know plenty,” the woman answers, offering up that ridiculous name, a business card and a tone that's too familiar for Yelena's liking.

She's not to be trusted. That would be clear even to the Red Room’s youngest and most naive recruit. But it's this gleeful performance of espionage, or maybe villainy, that keeps Yelena from writing her off entirely. From the outfit to the attitude, she's either insane or untouchable. Or both.

And then: “So I have some… let's call it interesting information about your sister.”

Yelena clenches her fists tighter, digging her fingernails into her palm. “I don't believe you.”

Valentina seems to anticipate this, and is already reaching into her bag at the answer. She pulls out a thin, soft-bound book, printed with colorful block lettering: Parkside Elementary School, ‘95-’96.

Instantly, Yelena feels like someone's tightening a vice around her ribcage. “No.”

The woman shrugs, with that haughty grin she's already starting to loathe. “See for yourself.”

She flips it open, turning only a few pages to find the first grade classes, and there she is. Six years old. An innocent smile on her face and a fake last name beneath her picture. Orange juice spots on the collar of her shirt -- Melina had scolded her when they brought the photos home.

“How did you get this?” Even if it's a fake, it was done by someone who knows far too much.

“Well, you don't trust me, so I won't bother telling you,” Valentina snaps, taking the book back before she can look for Natasha. “Let’s call it proof that I know a lot of people who have been keeping a lot of secrets.”

Yelena tries to look unimpressed, dropping her shaking hands to her sides when she realizes they're giving her away. “You and me both.”

“Ha! No kidding,” Valentina replies. It's not actually a laugh. “That's exactly why we're gonna work so well together.”

Maybe it's the grief clouding her judgement or residual conditioning left over in her frontal lobe. Maybe it's the unspoken threat to the rest of her family. Or maybe she was just born for this -- a soldier like her father, an assassin like her mother. Whatever it is, Yelena can feel herself agreeing to Valentina’s “offer” before she's even made it explicit.

“We'll start you out small,” the woman assures, but she knows better than to be comforted. “How do you feel about some light arson? There’s some documents and hard drives at a warehouse in Bethesda that need disappearing.”

“Fine,” Yelena answers, ears already buzzing, as a small voice in her head sings along. Fire is the devil's only friend.

-----

When the money from her first job comes in, she buys an old Chevy C/K and drives to Akron, with a useless hope to disappear again. She's lucky enough to find a modest apartment with a kind neighbor who's always happy to dogsit, which becomes a blessing -- Valentina’s demands only increase as the corners of her fake smile tighten.

But it's enough. Enough that when Yelena thinks about home, she can once again think of Ohio.

Not long after, Alexi and Melina keep a promise she’d asked them to make, and return for a few days. She picks them up at the airfield, and drives to the spot she and Fanny found on one of their long walks together -- under the trees that are just starting to blossom with pink flowers.

Alexi lifts the heavy gravestone from the back of the truck and places it at the end of a row, under a tree, where the ground can't be dug up anyway.

“Toughest girls in the world,” Yelena hears him murmur as he runs his hand over the inscription.

Melina hasn't spoken much since they landed. Yelena thought at first that she didn't want to come back, but when she closes her eyes and takes in a deep, shuddering breath as they stand facing the grave marker, she understands that it isn't that at all.

“Big girl,” her mother begins with an uncharacteristic, watery softness, and Yelena is transported back to another lifetime once again. “I’m so sorry...”

There might be more to say, but the long, mournful silence is broken by the sound of another car pulling up. All three of them go on alert, until Yelena spots a familiar flash of metal from the driver's side.

“не волнуйся,” she says, still stepping defensively in front of her mother. “It’s OK.”

The Winter Soldier -- Sergeant Barnes, she reminds herself -- parks and exits quickly, moving to the rear of the car to help an elderly man step out and straighten himself.

He isn't what Yelena expected, but once he's at full posture, it's impossible not to recognize him. He's the man from the news, the internet, all the posters — give or take a few decades.

“Captain America.” Under normal circumstances, she might chuckle at Alexi’s awed whisper.

“Forgive us for interrupting,” the Captain says by way of a greeting. He sounds like him, too, so it must be true. “And, in advance, for not explaining. I just… I thought both of her families should be here.”

“If that's OK,” Barnes adds with a look, first at Captain Rogers, then back at the family.

Yelena nods her acceptance, but feels her heart sink a little when Melina turns back silently to face the gravestone. Only Alexi steps forward, extending his arm, first to the captain, then to his comrade.

“Alexi Shostakov,” he offers. “You probably don’t…”

“The Red Guardian,” Captain Rogers interrupts, and Yelena tries not to let her eyes go wide as they shake hands proudly. “The Soviet super soldier. Of course I know who you are.”

Alexi puffs his chest up for just a moment, and gives himself a pleased nod, before returning to Melina’s side. It's proof of his grief, Yelena thinks, that that's the end of it.

Then it's her turn. “You must be Yelena.”

“Captain.” She nods once and then twice, looking past him. “Sergeant.”

“Buck mentioned you two had run into each other in Washington,” the older man says with a well-worn, knowing smile.

“I would say we're glad to have you,” she offers as a reply, “but now I'm mostly worried that I'm not covering my tracks as well as I should.”

“Don't worry about that,” Captain Rogers replies, with a shake of his head. “I had to call in multiple favors to find you. Big ones, too.”

“Well then,” she sighs, “I guess I should say I'm sorry you went through all that trouble.”

Another small smile, and then the captain steps closer, lowering his voice almost conspiratorially. It strikes her that, while he's likely still one of the most powerful men in the universe, there's nothing about him that feels threatening to her.

“I don't know if you've noticed,” he tells her, “but I'm getting up there in years. Why don't you save us both a lot of time from now on, and only bother saying what you mean.”

He means it as a kindness, Yelena can tell, but there's only one question she wants to ask, and it's screaming in her mind like a klaxon horn.

“Will you...” she begins, stopping to swallow when her throat turns to sandpaper. “Will you tell us what happened?”

“Yelena,” Melina says sharply, and she almost takes it back. But she knows the curiosity will eat her from the inside out if she doesn't take the chance now, when it's literally right in front of her.

“No, I want to know,” she tells her mother before turning back and steeling herself once again. “I want the truth.”

Captain Rogers purses his lips and tilts his head, like he's seeing something different in her now.

“You really are her sister, aren't you?” he muses.

She scoffs, almost reflexively. “There's no family resemblance, if that's what you mean.”

“Isn't there?” She hears Alexi chuckle softly behind her and makes a mental note to elbow him in the ribs later. One super soldier at a time.

“Please,” she asks again, and the twinkle leaves Captain Rogers' eye as he nods solemnly.

“Natasha sacrificed herself to retrieve the last of the Infinity Stones.” Yelena only understands part of that sentence, and she's not sure if it's the important part.

“The stones were the key to bringing everyone back, to defeating Thanos once and for all,” he explains. “We made a plan, as a team. We each had our assignments, but we didn't know the cost.”

The cost, it's evident now, had been Natasha, and it grates again at Yelena that all the other Avengers had returned from this mission for their final battle, while her sister’s sacrifice had merely been part of the unknowable set up.

But Captain Rogers continues, and she finds consolation in the fact that at least he doesn't take Natasha's death lightly, not in the slightest.

“I went back, after,” he reveals, sounding close to tears. “I tried-- I tried like hell to get her back. I never should have let her go.”

“You wouldn't have been able to stop her.” Melina’s voice comes out of nowhere; even she seems surprised to have spoken. But they all nod at the truth.

“Clint said he-- she wouldn't let him go in her place,” Rogers adds. He’s turning something over in his hands, but when Yelena looks closer, it seems to be just a simple pack of bubble gum. “She was just too…”

His eyes, cast towards the sky, return to their group, and he speaks first to Alexi, and then to Melina. Yelena reaches out for her mother's hand, and it's taken with a fierce squeeze.

“I'm not sure I ever really understood her until now,” the Captain says. “I thought her strength, her heart, who she was, was in spite of what she'd been through. But I know now, it was because of it.”

Yelena’s eyes have blurred with tears, but she can see him turn to her next. “We fought that war for her,” he adds. “And I think she fought it for you.”

It's the eulogy Natasha deserves, the one none of them could have hoped to give, and it feels both fitting and unfathomable that it comes from Captain America, of all people.

They sit in it for a moment, each thinking of Natasha in their own way, until the silence is broken by two people speaking in unison -- perhaps the two that understood her best.

“She would have hated this,” Yelena mumbles, only realizing after a moment that Barnes had said the same thing.

A reserved chuckle rumbles through the five of them, and then a deep, forgiving breath. It’s time to go.

But Yelena drops Melina’s hand as the rest of them turn back for the road, suddenly unable to move. She can’t pull her eyes away from the grave, stuck staring at a legacy that makes her feel six years old again, a metaphorical pair of shoes she'll never be able to fill.

When she doesn't hear either car start, she expects maybe Captain Rogers or Alexi, but surprisingly, it's Barnes who returns to her side.

“I haven't… I didn't make a speech or anything,” she admits, gesturing at the stone with her sister’s name and titles, and willing him, once again, to understand the feelings she can’t put into words. “I don't know what to say to her.”

He's quiet for a moment, and when he speaks it's lower than she’s expecting, like he’s drawing the words from somewhere deep. “Nat never shared much with us,” he tells her. “I understood that. It's hard to talk about memories you don't think you deserve to miss.”

Yelena knows she’s felt that too, that kind of arrested nostalgia. And she’s seen it in the Widows she recovered before the snap. It's not a surprise that the Winter Soldier could understand it as well -- what it’s like to be freed from a prison in your own mind, but constantly aware of how easily that door could slam closed on you once again.

“She wouldn't care what you say here,” he continues. “She would care what you do out there.”

Suddenly, Yelena wonders if his heightened senses include a bullshit detector, if he can somehow see the marionette strings Valentina has looped around her conscience.

“I might have lied to you when we met,” she admits, telling him as much of the truth as she can muster. “I'm not sure I know how to do her justice.”

“I think you do,” he answers. “Even if it’s hard. Even if it takes a while.”

She turns to face him, and he’s staring at the gravestone like he can see something more than the paltry words they had paid someone to carve in Natasha’s memory.

“Nat was haunted by the red in her ledger, but she also thought it was what made her a good Avenger. She thought it made her fearless, unbreakable.” Yelena looks down and watches the metal of Barnes’ bionic hand curl into a fist, and then release. “But I'll take a wild guess that she was fearless before that, wasn't she?”

Through the years of mind control and conditioning, Yelena has never forgotten the feeling of Natasha’s arm wrapped around her back on that airstrip in Cuba, screaming and threatening men twice her size to try and keep them both safe.

“You may not know what to do now. You might feel like the things you've done, or the things you want to do, have set your future in stone,” Barnes continues, cutting through the haze of her memories.

“But there's gonna be a moment, maybe in the future, maybe soon, when you're faced with a choice. And in that moment, if you choose to be the person she thought you could be, that'll do her justice.”

Yelena looks up and Barnes’ eyes are there to meet now. Whatever he knows, it’s enough.

“Thank you for coming,” she tells him. “Truly. And thank you for bringing the Captain.”

“Couldn't keep him away,” the man admits, with his little half-smile. “The two of them...I think that was as close as they let themselves get to anybody. I know he’ll always blame himself, but I hope this helped.”

Yelena nods her goodbye, thinking idly, mournfully, about the way Natasha never gave any thought to her future -- wondering if that’s something she and her teammates had shared. But as Barnes returns to his car, the back window rolls down and Captain Rogers flags her down with something dark and folded in his hand.

“I found this with her things on the quinjet,” he says as she approaches the window, and her throat is tightening with new tears before he can finish, before she can even reach out to touch the familiar fabric. “Thought maybe you might want it. It’s pretty nice, it’s got a lot of pockets.”

-----

When she returns Melina and Alexi to the airfield a few days later, it's the most Yelena has felt like a real person in a long time, maybe the whole of her adult life.

“You’ll come to visit, yes?” Alexi asks, but his raised eyebrow tells her it's more of an order than a request.

“I will.”

“Come for Christmas!” he booms as he climbs out of the truck. “I will tell Santa Claus where to find you.”

Melina doesn't follow him out the passenger door right away, turning back to face her and looking for all the world like a typical worrisome mother.

“Yelena…”

“мама, I'll be fine,” she promises, trying not to hear how hollow it sounds.

“I know you will. But please, watch out for yourself.” Yelena’s stomach knots at the memory of Melina telling Natasha the very same. That was the last time they were all together, she recalls. It always will be.

“And if you need us,” Melina adds, “just come home, where it’s safe. OK?”

It's something about the way she says it that steals Yelena's planned reply from her lips. She doesn't want to lie, not now.

So she ducks forward, pressing her head against her mother’s and willing them both a little bit of peace.

“You are the best of us. Strong like your father, smart like your mama,” Melina whispers. “And like Natasha, through everything, you’ve kept your heart.”

Yelena pulls back then, swiping at her eyes, unable to stop herself from asking. “You don’t think that’s a weakness?”

“Maybe, at one time,” Melina admits. “But now, I think it’s lucky. Because now, you have a place to carry her.”

She can do that, at least, Yelena promises herself, reaching down to tug instinctively at the hem of her vest. Natasha died for them, and so she can live for her. She can do her justice.

“Stay safe, Малышка,” Melina says again, kissing her on the cheek before climbing out and following Alexi towards the runway. They two of them turn back to wave before boarding their jet, and Yelena’s heart knocks in her chest to remind her. That’s my family.

She puts the truck in gear and is pulling out to the main road, brushing away a few stray tears, when she notices it. A cassette, half-ejected from her ancient tape deck, with a Post-it stuck to the end.

She peels off the note and grins at the mismatched handwriting -- “Love, Mom. And Dad,” both in Cyrillic -- before pressing the tape in and starting to sing along.

“A long, long time ago, I can still remember how that music used to make me smile…”

#first mate fic #black widow fic #yelena belova #yelena belova fic #black widow spoilers #black widow #natasha romanoff #romanogers (if you squint)#post-bw

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whump-town · 3 years

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Will You Take Me Home?

Here is some heart-warming fluff to make up for what I did with the cancer fic. I would do it again so I’m not sorry but I do feel remorse for hurting you

Word Count: 5055

Retired Hotch’s Birthday

The normal temperature of the room outside his nest of throw-blankets and heating pad causes goosebumps to break out over his exposed arm. He groans, not even bothering to check the caller ID as he puts his phone to his ear and answers “Aaron Hotchner”. His voice has taken on the gravel of disuse, fogged by the painkiller-induced nap he’d accidentally fallen into. If he was following his doctor’s orders, that wouldn’t happen. His body would have acclimated to the drugs and the pain wouldn’t leave him so exhausted that he can hardly keep his eyes open when it dulls to throbs. Which, he’s not aware of just yet, but is the very nature of this call: his detrimental habits.

“Sleeping beauty,” the other person greets and he leans back against the pillows behind him, rolling his eyes. The phone rustles and Hotch shakes his head as he hears the faint scratching and rustling of keys at his door. “I knocked four times,” he’s informed. “I was starting to think--” the door comes free and Hotch doesn’t even look up. “I thought I was going to find you dead in here.” The call ends and from the other side of the couch, he hears, “which, by the way, would be a hell of a thing, you know? Dead on your own birthday.” He closes his eyes but feels the cushions get pushed down, the telltale sign she’s leaning over the back of the cushion overtop him. “Speaking of which,” she beams. “Happy Birthday, old man.”

He looks up at her, taking in the full effect of mischief he could only hear before. The expressive lines of her smile spread across her face and it’s a distinct moment when all he can think about is how truly awful things had been between them at the beginning. How mean he was, really, because it wasn’t her. It was his own inability to trust. Yet, here she is before noon on his sixtieth birthday leaning over his couch and no doubt about to start a pot of coffee that she’ll consume over three-fourths of. Suppressing the smile tugging at his own lips, he raises a more important matter at hand. Far more pressing than why it is that she’s letting herself into his home. “How long until they come?”

Retired doesn’t mean born yesterday (whatever the opposite of that is, really). He’s not around the office anymore but given Garcia’s questioning last month of his favorite cake flavor, Dave’s inquiry into his schedule for this week, and Emily’s early arrival he knows exactly what they’re doing. To her credit, Emily pretends she doesn’t and she might be more convincing if he didn’t know every tell she’s had for the last two decades.

“Who?” she asks. “How long until who comes?” He just looks at her. A stand-off, really, to see who caves first. They’re assholes so this could go on forever and if she were looking for the thrill of watching him break and she would press on. She cracks but not because he’s better at this game, just because she’s excited. “You have an hour. I’ve been sent to get you ready so you’re not a crabby old bastard when they arrive.”

He groans, sinking back into the couch and pulling his blanket up over his head. Effectively locking her out. Well... not really. She just leans further over him, not caring when he grunts tries to burrow farther away. “Come on,” she shakes his shoulders. “Aren’t you the least bit excited? Penny made you those cookies you like and Derek is bringing Hank, who, I might add, is very excited to see Hops.” And she’s only buttering him up because-- “I’m not supposed to tell you this because it’s a huge surprise but Dave left this morning to go pick up Jack. He’ll--” she can’t even get it out. He peaks out, just the top of his head so he can narrow his eyes at her. To see if she’s just fucking with him, using his feelings against him but he sees only sincerity. She grins, she knows she’s won. “So up and at ‘em old-timer! You’ve got a gaggle of people to entertain!”

Old-timer? He’s four years older than she is. That’s not what he comments on. “Gaggle?” he repeats back to her, grunting as his knees protest his standing. “Really showing your age there,” he mumbles and steps out of the way of the pillow she throws at his head. “What?” he defends. “You said it, not me.” He shakes his head, heading back to his room and leaving her to entertain herself. Which she will and he can hear her rustling around the coffee machine. Nearly surprised that she doesn’t complain he still hasn’t set up the Keurig she got him for Christmas (which they are rapidly approaching him having owned now for a year).

Though he isn’t sure how to express it anymore, he’s excited to have them here. Even if he knows that it will get overwhelming, he can’t deny that the night will end far too soon and he’ll find himself missing them all over again. But that’s not what’s important. In an hour (less than that knowing Penelope and her strict party-throwing agendas) he’ll have them all right here. Reid with his never-ending knowledge, quizzing him on the book recommendations that Hotch has been slowly working his way through. With Derek and Savannah and Hank, the latter of which can’t pronounce Hotch and it makes his heart do a funny little thing when the toddler sees him and screams in pure delight “Hops!”

JJ will pour in with Henry and it’ll be like old times watching Henry and Jack slunk off together (and they all pretend like they don’t know they’re smoking pot in the backyard). Emily and Dave force him to mediate the same four fights that they always have and then they’ll stick around long after the others have gone home to talk about whatever comes to their minds.

And Penelope.

His house is about to be flooded with baked goods and meals in containers because despite being alive as long as he has, she denies the notion he can feed himself. She’ll organize them in specific ways and each will be labeled in her neat handwriting so he can tell what’s in each. Most of them will be vegetarian because she’s worried about his cholesterol (and the environment) and a few will be spicy and chicken will make its way into a few of the dishes. He’ll thank her and kiss her cheek and she’ll remind him like she always does, that all he has to do is ask. He won’t but he does appreciate how much she cares. As smothering as it can be.

He showers quickly, giddy in a strange way to get out and be properly ready when the others arrive. Not too quickly, the last thing he needs is to bust his ass while Emily is here. She is far too comfortable with herself and with him and he knows that she will come in here if she hears him. The other thing about that woman is that she might have a distaste for constantly being touched but she can put that aside to annoy him. Which has created this weird mind-game thing he knows he’s losing when he doesn’t even notice her encroaching on his personal space.

Everything is a battle with her.

He decides to save himself the trouble of being bullied and searches through his dresser for a pair of jeans. He owns maybe two pairs of jeans both purchased forever ago and just to help him fit in with the parents at Jack’s school during field trips and soccer games. He stuck out like a sore thumb when he was a kid and he knows he still does but he won’t be the reason Jack gets weird looks. Emily had raised an eyebrow at that (why he had even divulged this to her is beyond him) so evidently it didn’t really do the trick but Dave assures him he looks fine and Garcia thinks he looks like a DILF so… he’s fairly certain that’s good. He’s not really sure what that means but he’s learned it’s better not to ask her to clarify.

Emily is fixing the couch when he comes out, the apartment filled with the scent of the coffee she’s brewed while he was showering. “You’re going to burn the house down with this thing,” she tells him. She holds up his heated blanket as it offends her. “You need to go to the doctor, there has to be something they can do.”

What surprises him isn’t her apparent anger-- with Emily, it’s a diversion. Her anger is rarely that, it’s to distract, and right now he knows he’s to perceive her anger and not the way she fears for him. The way that she can’t say “I love you” like the others but can, instead, be outraged that his body has been working against him for so many years. She’s not angry at him for needing to be tucked up in that blanket all the time, she’s afraid of a vascular issue that might kill him or that he’ll leave untreated until they’re all being reunited at the closest general hospital. Waiting for a doctor to tell them that he waited too long or that his heart can’t handle another surgery or a million other things.

He takes the blanket from her, clumsily folding it over and tucking the cords into the folds. “I have gone to the doctor,” he assures her. Not for that specifically but he did bring it up. He leaves it at that for now and she understands that means maybe later. It’s not worth getting into and he doesn’t feel like thinking about George Foyet and his knife today.

“Hey,” Emily hums, smirking at him. “Your ass looks really nice in those jeans.”

He stops dead in his tracks, frowning as he looks back at her but just as he’s about to inquire what, no doubt, awful thing she’s done to make her feel the need to compliment him to compensate for it, the apartment door opens. They both turn to the noise and Garcia steps in and freezes when she notices the two of them standing there.

Looking at the bags full of things she has in her arms and then to Emily and then to Hotch she sheepishly smiles. “Happy Birthday?”

With a sigh, having accepted this defeat a while ago, Hotch steps to help her with bags. He tries to hide his amusement but he cuts Emily a glance, three bags in his left hand and more still coming, and he can’t help it. Garcia turns back just as the smile eats its way up his face and he shakes his head. For a split second, he can see her apprehension, the way that her fear of going overboard or embarrassing herself washes over her before she carefully masks it (and to think he gets all the shit about masking). “Thank you,” he whispers so sincerely that he has to avert his eyes. Adding softly, “you know, you’re the only person who ever cares to make me celebrate it?”

Which just makes her sad. “Sir,” she whispers frowning. “You deserve the world, do you know that?”

He blushes, shaking his head, but he can’t get the words out in his shock.

“Oh,” she tsks. She stands on her toes and pulls him down so she can wrap her arms around him. “I love you.”

Emily makes a sound of disgust behind them and he’s glad for the distraction before all this undue attention gives him a heart attack. “Bleh,” Emily rolls her eyes. But she brightens when she sees the red Tupperware container holding the cookies. “Are those the--”

Garcia sees Emily zero in on them and hands them right to Hotch, holding them to his chest. “Are not for you,” she says to Emily with a nod of her head.

So Emily just looks to Hotch and he passes them to her with a shrug and weakly defends, “they’ll go stale if she doesn’t eat half of them.” They’re his birthday cookies but she’ll get her hands on them anyway. If not today then the next time she lets herself in. If not her then Reid when he gets bored and wanders over here for entertainment. If not Reid then Dave then Derek… you get the point. He’ll never finish them on his own.

Garcia lets it go because she knows that’s how he is and because she has a crapload of other things to make sure he eats. He leaves her to mess with his fridge, it’s better to let her do her thing. She’ll move his almond milk to the side door because that’s its proper place (even though he’ll move it right back) and come in about five to ten minutes to fuss with him about a specific something she notices he’s lacking. Today it will be the complete lack of breakfast foods in this house when she knows for a fact that his doctors are giving him hell about eating more than once a day.

He’ll have no excuse, never does, but she won’t give him a chance to provide it either way.

Reid arrives next and actually knocks and waits for someone to let him in, something none of the others will do. He sheepishly offers Hotch the books he’s artfully wrapped in a newspaper and Hotch ignores it for a moment to hug him. If they don’t do it now Reid will just wait in anxious anticipation for it because he knows it’s what people do and he likes being hugged by Hotch but he doesn’t know how to initiate it himself.

“The Sultan of Brunei spent $27.2 million on his 50th birthday,” Reid tells him as soon as Hotch lets him go. “Michael Jackson was there,” he says with a nod. And Hotch smiles and listens to him anxiously work his way around the point that he’s trying to make. Which is that by the standards of the Sultan of Brunei, this party will be exceptionally small and quiet… the way Hotch would want it to be.

They are still standing at the door, talking about what the act of giving a card means. The way that the stories get warped and it thrills Reid to slide the pieces of that puzzle together through-out various cultural ideals until you have them. And that America has a very strange, above-average affinity for birthday cards.

Derek nearly hits Reid with the door when he comes in. Too distracted with a squirming Hank on his hip and Savannah behind him fussing with him for not knocking. He brightens the second he places his eyes on the two of them, a face that Hank matches perfectly upon seeing his favorite people.

“Weed!” the toddler greets throwing himself into his godfather’s arms. Reid takes him happily, laughing at how tightly Hank holds onto him. He just loves that Hank never gets tired of him. He could still see Hank every day for a month and Hank would still greet him with the same enthusiasm as the first day.

Derek is kicking his shoes off, offering Savannah his hand so she can do the same when he notices Hank still excitedly talking to Reid. That’s by all means not abnormal but-- “Hey,” Derek mumbles Hank. He nods his head to Hotch who is standing watching Reid and Hank with a bright, wide smile. “Don’t you have something for Hops?”

Reid puts Hank down before the toddler can start to squirm and Hank immediately glues himself to Hotch’s leg. No one knows why it’s just what Hank likes to do but not just, in general, he only does it to Hotch. He stands for a few seconds, both arms wrapped around one of Hotch’s legs, face pressed into the material of his jeans, and Hotch stands still to allow him to do it. Hops is a nickname he has no control over, the same way that Reid doesn’t fight that he’s been “Weed” now since Jack was two and stumbling over his name.

Hotch got off easy. When Henry was younger he just sort of kept his distance from Hotch. Hank… just really loves him.

“Is that a hot wheel?” Hotch asks softly when Hank finally peels himself away enough to offer the bright toy clutched in his hands. Hank beams up at him and stretches to hold it higher, trying to get Hotch to take it. “Oh wow,” Hotch gasps, shaking his head and pretending to just be so impressed by this toy so severely dwarfed in his hand. “Do you know what colors these are?”

Derek holds his hand out for Savannah to take and guides her through the house. Moving them to the kitchen to talk with Garcia and Emily knowing that he won’t be getting his son back this afternoon. Both because Hank won’t want to leave Hotch or Reid’s side and because Hotch and Reid won’t want him to leave. The Hotwheels was entirely Hank, they spent twenty minutes finding the perfect one when all Derek needed from the store was stain. Though they all agreed to no presents because Hotch would already hate them invading his home with cake, they all got him presents.

The others all got him books because that’s what they know he likes and he really does love to receive books. They’re fun entertainment and they all say something about how not only they perceive him but also the sorts of things that they like and he… well, he loves that.

Derek built him a new bookshelf. It’s sitting in the back of the truck and he’s waiting on Will to get here to drag the thing in here. Derek had noticed two weekends ago that one of the shelves Hotch uses in the hall was bowing under the weight of the books on it so he’d made something to replace it. Thin but heavy-duty-- he’d considered all the ins and outs of the current shelf. Things he didn’t like about it until he has a higher shelf that doesn’t stick out so obscenely.

Which doesn’t matter, really, Hotch will love it either way.

Hank keeps “Hops” distracted while the others pull dinner together. Emily is set to ice the cake but she’s awful and she’s sent to sit in the living room with the other three. Hotch is sitting in the recliner, Hank sitting on his knees and telling him about what he did in preschool this week while Reid pokes through the bookshelf Hotch keeps by the door.

JJ knocks as she comes in but still lets herself in. Henry is bummed to see Jack isn’t here yet but he’s quickly distracted and swept right back out the door to help his father and Derek move the bookshelf into the house. They don’t really need Henry’s help but it’s an effective way to ensure Hotch doesn’t try to help. Not because he can’t but because… he’s old and they don’t want to break him.

They’re just buying time, anyway, until Jack and Dave get here.

With them comes the party…

Hotch only puts Hank down to hug Jack, biting down his tears when he realizes that his son now stands just as tall as he is. Probably bound to be taller. He’s grown out his blonde hair in college and just as Hotch is opening his mouth to ask about school, how seeking out that Master’s Degree is treating him, he spots--

“A puppy!” Hank shouts.

Jack smiles timidly, stepping back to show his father the dog still held back by Dave’s hold on her collar. “Her name is Scout!” Jack kneels down, beaming up at his father while the thrilled puppy licks his face. “Do you get it?”

Oh, he gets it alright. Emily had snitched him out two weeks ago (to his own son, of all people) and admitted she was a little worried. He still doesn’t think there was ground for her fears. It’s not abnormal for him to shut himself out and if his therapist doesn’t think he’s any crazier than normal then that should mean he’s fine. At least, that’s how Hotch feels about it. That’s ignoring the way that everyone else feels. Which is that he’s visibly more on the edge and jumpy. That he gets irritated in public spaces and his anxiety is getting worse despite starting therapy and medicine he swears is helping.

Jack had done his best to get through to his father but sometimes Hotch makes those conversations like talking to a brick wall. That conversation had ended rather badly, honestly. Jack had yelled, shouting mindlessly that he’s twenty-five and he’s too young to have to be taking care of Hotch like this. Too young to have to fear that each day he’ll receive that phone call and the crazy thing is that Jack wouldn’t even be surprised-- everything about Hotch’s life is damning proof to the fact that he acts impulsively, reckless, and without care to his own well-being.

Jack had called later and he’d apologized, they both had. It had been careless on Jack’s behalf, Jessica had explained to him at sixteen some delicate things about his father. He’d come to understand just what it means for everyone around Hotch to love him. The way that his mother had tried to stifle that urge in his father and Jessica and Dave and Emily and Derek and everyone who has ever loved a man like Aaron Hotchner has tried to walk him back off that ledge. But it’s as if he was born there and you can move him but you can’t take that fundamental calling away. Can’t wash his darkness away.

Jack had spent his entire childhood likening the characters around him to his father, just pulling at strings to understand the man. Sometimes he’d earn himself a smile and other times a grunt. He’d bring his father the books or replay scenes in movies all to just see his reactions to know if the man he sees his father as is the same one Hotch sees himself as.

Freshman year of high school they’d read To Kill A Mockingbird and he’d thought his father to be a man like Atticus Finch. In many ways, he is but he keeps coming back to that book. Until during that heavily apologetic phone call, Jack had laughed and realized his father might be a bit like Atticus Finch but he’s a Boo Radley. The recluse that always represents unwavering good.

Hence Scout.

What had driven Boo Radley from his home? Little Scout Finch.

He lets them into the house, not really sure what to say. “You know,” Hotch mumbles, shaking his head. He watches the puppy eagerly work her way around the others. Snaking between legs and nearly knocking Hank over in her excitement but the boy is around enough dogs to only laugh harder. “You could have just got me a… gym membership of something.”

Derek huffs at that and now, he’s sitting in his living room watching his closest friends snickering at his son’s clever book reference. With a sigh, he leans down and offers his hand to the puppy, frowning when her first instinct is to lick him. “Hi, Scout.”

Jack squats down, petting Scout while she continues basking in Hotch’s attention. “You don’t go to the gym, dad.” Jack rubs behind her ears, smiling when Scout doesn’t divert her attention from Hotch. She’s zeroed in on him and he’s fairly content with that. “Besides I got Scout from that program that they run in Richmond.” There’s this dog training thing they do down there that his friend actually works at. Scout failed her training-- as it turns out she’s a bit of a reject. They’d tried to start her out as a service dog but she’d been too smart for that too. Too eager.

Hotch raises an eyebrow at that, not liking the sound of what he thinks is happening. Those dogs are expensive and it’s already enough that she’s a German Shephard. “What do you mean?”

Jack glances at Dave, “well…”

Dave steps up and soothes it out. “I made some calls and Jack’s friend helped us out. Scout is a reject from two academies, a failed service dog and from the police dog academy in Richmond. So she’s too smart for them to just send anywhere.”

Great, Hotch thinks.

“It’s perfect,” Emily snickers. “Hotch loves to take care of things and now he’s essentially got a toddler again.”

“She is potty trained,” Jack offers quickly.

But Emily is right and the idea is brilliant. Hotch does like to take care of things and having Scout will prompt him to start taking walks in the morning again. It might help him implement a strict eating routine, place him in the kitchen to feed her. He won’t go do things for himself but he will take her to the dog park and sit there until she’s tired. Throw balls for her to retrieve and (what had been the killing stone) is that she’s far too smart for her own good. She’s got other training. Senses anxiety and depression and is very protective.

Hotch frowns down at Scout, she’s placed her head on his knee watching him as he takes this in. Hank is leaned up against her side, fingers trailing through her short fur, and she’s entirely unbothered by it. She’s only worried about Hotch and Hotch is worried about her. He’s never had a pet before. Jack had a goldfish he fed occasionally but… there’s no way that counts.

“Thank you,” he says softly, rubbing at his fingers anxiously and frowning when Scout smacks his hand with her nose. He sighs and puts his hand on her head, scratching like he thinks she wants. Too distracted to note what she’s effortlessly just done. Put off by her clinginess, he’s not even thinking about the curling hot ball of nerves in his stomach. His mind does wander but she nudges him again and he sighs and keeps patting her head.

Dinner goes well and Scout and Hank are glued to his sides. Hank to his left feeding him chips and Scout green beans which Hotch sees and chooses to ignore. Her immediate allegiance to him is a little strange, she’s not too bothered with Garcia or Derek no matter how hard he tries to win her over (feeding her green beans just like his son). Scout does like Hank, Henry, Jack, and Reid. She takes to them like it’s nothing. She’ll go from ignoring Derek’s attempts to get her to sit to trot right over to Reid and lay over his feet.

Hotch does enjoy that, it’s funny.

They funnel out slowly after eight. Hank has already fallen asleep in Hotch’s arms and Savannah has to wipe his tears up and shush him back to hazy contentment with the promise he’ll see Hops soon. Derek will probably be over in a day or two to make sure that the shelf is holding up well and to transfer the books and he’ll bring Hank along to distract Hotch to do it.

JJ and Will trickle out not too long after. Henry and Jack conspire together to get Dave to take them for ice cream and he caves-- Jack promises to text him before he falls asleep to tell him where he landed for the night.

Garcia takes Reid home, won’t let him take the subway back at this hour and Hotch doesn’t even have to ask they just know to text him when they get home safe. He promises to eat the food Garcia left and she already has the date in which he should run out marked on her calendar. She’ll give him a week to bring back the Tupperware before coming over here herself and seeing what he has and hasn’t eaten.

Emily sticks around until ten. The two of them picking up meager things and she promises to come by early tomorrow and the two of them will go to PetSmart to figure out what kind of food Scout should be eating.

And before he knows it…

“I guess it’s just me and you then.” Scout tilts her head at him. “You want to… go to bed?”

He’s not really sure how the dog thing works. TV has shown him plenty of times they’re not supposed to sleep in your bed so he makes her a blanket bed of her own and marks down a dog bed on his list of things to get tomorrow at the pet store. He tells her goodnight and then blushes at how silly that sounds.

He’s in bed, changed into pajamas, and yawning into his book but he’s committed to reading a chapter every night. He hears her get up but he still jumps when his bedroom door is opened. She doesn’t wait for a command and doesn't listen to his “no” before jumping up into the bed alongside him. He’s trying to grumble, to get up but she lays right across his hips. Turning her head to look up at him and he gives up. “Only tonight,” he says.

Tonight turns into the way she sits between his legs, when they’re listening to the guy at PetSmart help them pick out food. To the way she looks up at him when he tries to estimate how big she’ll be to get her a properly sized bed. Which ultimately turns into him giving up and Emily hiding her smirk at just how whipped he already is.

Tonight turns into every night and if his nightmares stop coming as frequently because she’s laying atop him he doesn’t say anything. If he starts going out more and the team starts picking out pet friendly places to meet him for lunch or to have a coffee break then he also doesn't say anything but Scout is right there.

So… what exactly does it take to draw Aaron Hotchner away from the ghosts? A puppy.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #penelope garcia #spencer reid #derek morgan #jack hotchner #hank morgan #savannah hayes #jennifer jareau #will lamontagne #henry jareau #david rossi

76 notes · View notes

averyonelovesjack · 3 years

Text

learning to raise a baby ~ daniel seavey

requested: yes:)

Can you please do an cute imagine about y/n and Daniel having a baby together and taking care of the baby and figuring the parenting stuff out together. Ur amazing

summary: follow a few different events in the life of daniel and y/n learning to raise a baby.

warning(s): baby, literally too lazy to edit this i’ll come back later lmao

word count: 2608

author’s note: i have such baby fever omg

disclaimer: i def need to clarify that i am 18 years old and do not have a baby and i have no close friends with babies (in person, at least) therefore this is purely fiction. i watch a LOT (i mean A LOT) of family vloggers and like teen mom accounts raising their kids, so basically all of my knowledge comes from that. i hope no one takes offence to my depiction of it, but my intention is purely just to write this cute fic idea, and i don’t want to pretend like i know anything about parenting or raising a child or anything like that!! okay that’s all!!

I could barely see my feet as I painfully took in another breath of air and started walking forward. Awoken at 3am with terrible back pain and a pool of amniotic fluid at my waist, Daniel and I now rushed to grab our hospital bag and make our way to the labor and delivery section of our nearest hospital.

everything went so fast. before i was actively having a child, it felt like my pregnancy would never end, but now that it’s actually happening and i’m having a child, it felt like pregnancy flew by.

just a few days ago, i was sitting on the countertop in my bathroom, impatiently waiting to see if i was pregnant or not in hopes that daniel wouldn’t get home from the studio early and find me. i had just given daniel the surprise of his lifetime when i woke him up at four am to tell him i was pregnant because i just couldn’t keep it from him anymore to do a fun reveal. i remember how we both cried, too excited to even go back to sleep.

just a few days ago, daniel and i were sitting in my obstetrician’s office as we got to hear our eight week old fetus’ heartbeat for the first time. we both cried. it feels like just a day or two ago we cut into a pink colored cake and found out that our precious baby girl would be coming. all of the breakdowns about what stroller to buy and which crib matches the nursey best felt like just moments ago. and now, all of a sudden, i’m ten hours into labor and i’m ready to push.

pushing was painful, but the thought of holding a sweet babygirl soon just kept me going. daniel squeezed my hand tight, standing by the end of the bed watching our beautiful daughter make her way into the world.

i gave the final push and soon i heard a cry that made everything in the whole world worth it. they say you never truly understand love until you’ve had a child, and as soon as i held our daughter, i felt an overwhelming sense of truth in that statement. i never knew such a distinct moment could be the greatest day of my life, but as soon as i laid my eyes on her, i knew that i would never get a day greater than this one.

our daughter laid on my chest for a while as daniel sat by my head, holding both my hand and hers. eventually, the nurses cleaned her off a bit and wrapped her tightly in a swaddle for daniel to finally hold his daughter. i watched the tears fall from his bluer than ever eyes that never left her little face. by the way she settled in his arms and fell asleep, i knew i was going to have a daddy’s little girl on our hands.

it felt like forever, just watching daniel and our baby getting to know each other. soon enough, though, the doctors finished with the stitches and i heard a knock at the door.

within seconds, both of our parents came into the room, bearing wide smiles. daniel sat in the seat next to me, both of us staring at the beautiful baby in front of us.

“does she have a name?” keri asks, slowly walking up to the two of us, careful not to be too loud.

daniel and i look at each other, and then i give him the nod to tell everyone. “callista avery mae seavey.”

“our little baby callie.” i smile at the name. daniel and i both loved the name callie, but wanted it to be a nickname. avery was after his bandmate who really helped us through this whole preparing to be parents thing. mae was a pretty nickname from my side of the family that was good to separate avery and seavey. our little callie mae.

***

it was three am and both of us were awake to callie’s loud screaming. turns out that daniel and i had a very colicky daughter who, when awake, wanted to scream at the top of her lungs. daniel was in the nursery trying to grab more diapers and wipes that, out of exhaustion, we forgot to restock last night when we ran out. i held callie in our arms, rocking her gently and trying to get her to go back to sleep.

“does she have a dirty diaper?” daniel asks, placing the diapers in the corner of our messy bedroom. a few days into callie’s life, we realized we should’ve left the changing table in our bedroom until she was ready to sleep in the nursey, but both of us were too tired to even think about moving the furniture around. so for now the corner of the room was storage and a changing pad on the bench was our late night changing table.

“i don’t think so.” i answer, giving him an exhausted look. “her diaper isn’t heavy and i tried to feed her, but she doesn’t seem to be hungry. i think she just woke up and is being colicky again.”

“how long did the doctor say the colic will last?” daniel asks.

“she didn’t.” i sigh, going to take a seat on our bed as i continued to calm callie. daniel sat beside me. “go back to sleep, i got her.”

“no, i know you’ve been awake all night. try to go to sleep, i’ve got her.” daniel says, and then takes callie from me. “did you take melatonin tonight?”

“yeah.” i say. “i know your body goes through a lot of changes postpartum, but i’m really not liking the insomnia.”

“okay, well, you lay down, and i’m gonna sing to you both, okay?” daniel says and then starts to rock callie to sleep as i laid beside them. and then he started to sing softly.

***

callie was born a little over three months ago and daniel and i haven’t had a date night since then. when we fearfully realized that last week, jack and anna were both quick to offer some help. we hadn’t felt comfortable leaving callie yet, especially since she wasn’t always the easiest. we had lots of help and people offering, but neither daniel nor i were good at asking for help. that’s definitely something we’re both still working on, especially now that we have a baby.

finally though, jack and anna convinced us. originally, we were going to leave them with daniel’s parents, but anna and jack were pretty convincing. jack had lots of experience since he himself is a dad, and anna was very close with gabbie when she had lavender. jack also decided to invite zach for some more company, which was cute.

daniel and i had a hard time saying goodbye to callie, even though we really were only going to be out for two hours at most. we knew neither of us could stay away for that long.

the restaurant wasn’t too far from the house, which was nice because it cut down on our time away from callie. i think both of us were a little nervous to leave her. we both know that she’s three months old and other people are more than capable of watching her for a few hours, but it’s still hard to not be worried about all of the things we could be missing out on.

“oh my gosh, anna just sent a picture of callie.” daniel says in the middle of our dinner, holding up his phone to show up me the picture of our daughter in the adorable pajamas her aunt bought.

“i miss her.” i admit, knowing he was feeling similarly. “do you think they had a hard time getting her to sleep? i hope she’ll be good for them tonight.”

“i’m sure she was fine.” daniel says, then later . “you know, maybe we should skip dessert. relieve them a little early.”

“she’s growing up so fast.” i tell him. “i’m not ready for her to keep growing.”

“we’re gonna blink and she’s gonna be cursing us out because we wouldn’t let her go out with her friends.” daniel continues. “not that we would do that, because honestly, i’ve always thought we’d be a little cooler than that.”

i laugh at his comment. “oh, we’ll definitely be cooler than that. we’re not gonna be the lame strict parents that doesn’t let their kids go out with their friends.”

“oh definitely.” daniel agrees. “except i will be strict about doors open if someone is over. i don’t care who she’s in her room with, but that door better be open. i am taking no chances.”

“i feel like that’s fair.” i add. “i know we’re parents, but wow, until i think about that future, i kind of forget.”

“i’m very glad that’s a long ways away.” he comments. “i’m barely ready for her to be three months old, we do not need to get ahead of ourselves. take this parenting thing one step at a time.”

“i could not agree more.” i smile, leaning over the table to kiss daniel’s lips gently.

***

i walked out of my one year old’s nursery with her in my arms. we watched as daniel and anna hung balloons up around our california apartment. it’s just about an hour before callie’s first birthday party, and now more than ever, i could not be more grateful for daniel’s family’s offer to help us set up.

rather than fighting with figuring out food for the party, we decided to get it catered. christian and tyler offered to go pick up the food at the restaurant for us, which was extremely helpful. his parents were setting up some decorations around the front of the apartment.

i had just put callie in her adorable dress that i specifically picked out for this party. we weren’t the type to throw parties, so we weren’t 100% sure what to do or what to expect, but we decided to just stick to family and close friends. callie was too young for us to strictly invite her friends over. at this stage in her life, her friends were whoever was at mommy&me that week.

the party was going to be small. daniel’s family, my family, daniel’s bandmates and close friends, and then my close friends.

thankfully, we finished decorating and setting up with about thirty minutes left to spare before the party. rather than worry, i decided to just sit on the couch with anna and daniel. keri took callie from me, wanting to spend some time with her granddaughter, and giving daniel and i a brief break before the party started.

“i cannot believe she’s a year old.” anna exclaims to me. “you guys have been parents for a year. that’s crazy to think about.”

“it’s definitely a little bit weird.” i giggle in response.

“you guys make it look so easy, being young parents.” anna says. “i know i’m younger than you guys, but still, i cannot imagine having a kid anytime soon.”

“i didn’t think i would either.” i tell anna. “for me, i wasn’t really ready until i met dani. i realized that i was ready because i wanted to do this with him. it’s different for everyone, i’m sure, but at least personally, that’s how i knew we could be parents.”

daniel wraps his arm around me on the couch, kissing my cheek softly. “yeah, it’s the same for me. when you find someone you want to do everything with, it gets easier to imagine yourself parenting together.”

“that is really cute.” anna says. “this is what i mean, when i say you make it look easy!!”

“it’s definitely not easy.” i laugh. “but it’s a little bit easier when you work as a team. we talk things through and decide together, instead of just making decisions separately. it’s a lot easier to feel like you’re making the right decision when you talk things through.”

“and that is all the parenting advice you get, because while i am most definitely ready to be a dad, i am not ready to be an uncle.” daniel says, getting protective over his younger sister.

“being an uncle is way easier than being a dad.” anna laughs. “but trust me, i’m not having kids any time soon. at least not intentionally.”

“well, i have to be the cool uncle. someone’s gotta bail the kid out of jail and hide it from you.” daniel jokes.

“first of all, why would my kid go to jail??” anna asks. “and second of all, you might’ve been first in the race for cool uncle before callie arrived, but since becoming a dad, you’ve fallen behind. the cool uncle can’t have kids, that’s not how that works.”

“well i’ll break that standard, because i’ll be the cool uncle.”

“i just want to be the aunt that gives good advice at one o’clock in the morning.” i tell them. “someone’s gotta do it. i expect that for callie, anna, so i will do that for your kids.”

“oh, of course. nothing but the best for callie. and future kids.” anna agrees. “speaking of, future kids? any thoughts on that? mom wants me to scope that out.”

“eventually.” i smile. “sooner rather than later.”

***

daniel took callie on a walk. he’s been really adamant about spending at least thirty minutes a day on a walk with her. now that she’s getting a lot more balance and ability to take a lot more steps, he loves taking her to the playground a few blocks from our apartment. usually, i like to go with them, but today i made up an excuse about things i had to get done at home.

i felt especially grateful for that routine of his today, because i needed a few minutes to myself. i’ve been feeling particularly nauseated recently, and as soon as i woke up the other day, i could feel that i was pregnant again. in the past, i had always thought that when i was paranoid about being late, but now that i’ve actually experienced pregnancy, i can feel that there’s a little fetus inside of me.

daniel and i haven’t exactly been trying, but we haven’t been taking as many precautions as we were when callie was first born. now that she’s over a year old, we feel better about having another baby. we weren’t too rushed, because we lot spending time with just our little girl, but we didn’t want to wait too long and have her grow up without a sibling. having a sibling was always a priority of daniel and i’s. seeing as we both grew up with siblings, we know how important it is to have a sibling.

my stomach fluttered with butterflies as i followed the instructions on the pregnancy test. after realizing i was pregnant with callie, i had bought a ton of tests that i didn’t end up using because it was so obvious that i was indeed pregnant. that was extremely helpful for right now when i don’t have time to go sit in traffic for thirty minutes just to go to the pharmacy.

i sat on top of the counter, leaving the pregnancy test face down while i tried to scroll through tiktok and distract myself. it was probably the slowest five minutes of my life, other than finding out about callie.

the timer went off on my phone. i take a deep breath and carefully lift the pregnancy test off the marble bathroom counter.

pregnant.

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nooneelsecomesclose17 · 3 years

Text

Am I a fool to think that there's a little hope - part 2

Not much really happens here, but they both had a lot to say, and I miss Aaron and Vic so I went with it. I promise Robert will actually appear in the next part!

It's dark when they arrive, the ferry being delayed and Aaron's tired of being in the car. Harry's been screaming for the past twenty minutes while they'd driven to the hotel and all he wanted was a shower and bed. He needed time to work out what he was going to do the next morning.

"We've got a bit of a problem." Vic comes back to the car, a set of keys in her hand. "There's only one room."

"Are you kidding? I told you we should've called when we stopped at the services."

"Alright know-it-all. How was I to know that the sodding Isle of Wight turns into holiday central? Anyway, there's a sofa in the room, and a double bed."

"Fantastic."

By the time they're inside he's in a foul mood and there isn't even a bar where he can drown his sorrows for a while.

"If you're just going to complain all the time, why did you come with me?"

"Vic, just leave it. I'm tired, that's all. I don't know what I'm doing here." Despite his words he gets down on the floor with Harry, smiling as the little boy passes him one of his blocks. "Thanks buddy."

"You're here because you're a good friend, and because deep down you want to see him because you still love him, even if you want to smack him for being so damn stubborn."

"What if...what if you're wrong? What if he did mean it, was just waiting for the chance to be rid of me. I ruined his marriage, I outed him to Chrissie...what if...what if he hates that I didn't support him with Lee, that I kept nagging him."

"Aaron you're talking rubbish. Robert loves you. Do you honestly think my big lump of a brother would've hung around in Emmerdale after everything if he hadn't loved you."

"You were there."

"As much as I know he loves me, I wasn't enough to keep him there. Do I have to remind you of every stupid thing he did when the two of you broke up? How many times you pushed him away and yet he still hung around because he couldn't bear to be without you? As for Lee, you were being sensible when he couldn't see how to. You're being daft, and you know you are. You're just trying to put barriers in the way and convince yourself of something so you don't have to face him."

"I hate you." He knows she's right, but that little voice kept nagging in the back of his head, maybe it always would. He could never rid himself of it, had done his best to ignore it but as soon as Robert wasn't around back it came.

"Yeah yeah. I'm going to take a shower. Can you keep an eye on him?"

"Clear off, me and Harry have manly things to talk about."

"Sexist."

"Pest. Go on, we'll be fine." He smiles as she goes, he's missed her. There'd been a gulf between them ever since Robert's sentencing, made worse by the Posner family hanging around. Maybe now they could get back to being friends. "Your Mummy is silly isn't she, eh?"

He picks the little boy up, holding him close. He's barely spent any time with him, it'd been so hard seeing him when he was first born, too much after losing Robert. It wasn't his fault though and he resolved to be a better uncle, if Robert couldn't be.

"So, you're going to meet Uncle Robert tomorrow, eh? He's pretty great you know, even if he does get himself into some messes. I know he's not been around and he'll just be this stranger, but he loves you already, and maybe if we're really lucky he'll be home soon, and then you'll see just how great he is, and maybe you can meet your cousin Seb too."

He swipes away a tear, thinking about Seb. He wonders how big he's grown, what he likes doing, whether he still hates peas. He wishes he'd fought harder, had tried to make Rebecca see sense, that cutting him off too was going to confuse him even more. He wonders if he even remembers Aaron at all, let alone Robert.

"Mama?"

"She's in the shower. You're stuck with me." He lifts him into his lap, letting him lean into his chest, nearly asleep. "What am I going to do, eh?" He checks his phone again, only a missed call from his Mum which he ignores. He knows what she'll want so there's no point answering. There's nothing from Ben and he's not sure whether to be relieved or hurt.

He doesn't sleep much, the sofa in the room is far from comfortable, and he ends up on his phone as dawn breaks. He still hasn't decided if he wants to go with Vic. It's not that he doesn't want to see Robert, of course he does, but he's tried so hard over the past year and a half to move on, he doesn't know if he can cope with seeing him.

He's about to get up when Vic suddenly dashes from the bed into the bathroom.

"Vic? You alright?" He knocks on the bathroom door gently. He doesn't hear anything until she opens the door looking as white as a sheet. "What's up?"

"It must be something I ate, maybe that sarnie on the ferry. I feel awful."

"Get back into bed, I'll make you some tea or something."

"You're going to hate me." She tells him a few hours later, when she wakes up, still looking pale.

"Doubt it." He gets back onto the floor to play with Harry.

"I don't think I can go to the prison, not like this. You're going to have to go." He looks up, half wondering if she's planned this. If she didn't look so awful he'd believe she had.

"What? I can't."

"You have to. He's expecting me. Do you really want him thinking I changed my mind? Thinking he's all alone?" She's right, it'd crush Robert. It'd taken so long for him to agree to see anyone, if no one turned up then he guessed Robert would never agree again. "Please. I wouldn't ask you if I didn't have to."

"Fine. What about Harry?"

"Can you take him? I need to sleep, and besides I want Rob to meet him."

"You owe me, you know that don't you?"

"Yeah, I know. Have you heard from Ben?"

"No."

"He'll come round, when you explain." He shrugged. "You like him, don't you?"

"Yeah. He's been great with Liv and everything."

"What about you? Just being there for Liv isn't enough is it? I know that...well me and Luke, it wasn't like me and Adam, but I still...I loved him."

"What's your point?"

"That he likely won't live up to Rob, just like Luke wasn't Adam, but if you like him, if you think you can love him then you should try...but if you're just with him because you're lonely, or because you think it's good for Liv then is it a good idea for either of you?"

"So...if no one will live up to him, I should just be on my own?"

"No. Look, if he wasn't in prison, you'd still be together right?" He nods because of course they would. "All I'm saying is make sure whoever you are with, you're with them for the right reasons. I feel for Liv with everything going on, but he can be there for her, and you as a friend, if that's all you think it'll be. Don't force it. just because you think you should." She smiles a little. "And if you still want him, then make sure you tell my stupid, stubborn brother that he's an idiot for cutting you off and that you're going nowhere."

He laughs at that. Now he was faced with no choice his mind was full of what he wanted to say to Robert.

"Ok. I better get sorted then." Suddenly he was glad he'd run home to get a change of clothes before they'd left. He didn't want to face him in the ratty old t-shirt he'd been wearing.

Robert was going to see what he'd missed. Maybe it was petty and it wasn't his fault, but it didn't hurt to look good did it.

#robron fic #i'm splitting this into sections of the story #mainly because i'm writing it on tumblr and it'll likely eat it if it's too long #also because i'm sweltering and i'm done for today #so part three is the visit

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sometimesiwritebadly · 4 years

Text

Rogue Thoughts (Spencer Reid x FBI Agent!Reader)

Summary: Soulmates can occasionally hear each other’s thoughts. You happen to hear the thoughts of a fellow FBI Agent while you’re interviewing for a position at the BAU.

Check out the series

Warnings: Some language, but it’s just fluff

Notes: SOULMATE AU MOTHER HECKERS

Word Count: 2k

Masterlist

After nearly 30 years of listening to your soulmate’s thoughts, nothing could surprise you at this point. While most of your friends or family heard relatively normal things from their soulmates before they met, your head consisted of random facts about anything from mental illnesses you’d never heard of to Greek philosophy. Once, you had what you learned to be some of Friedmann’s equations stuck in your head for a week. Despite how little you cared for mathematics, your curiosity had given in eventually and you ended up googling it after 3 days. Whoever your soulmate is, he’s an absolute genius.

Sometimes the thought of just how smart your soulmate is feels a little daunting; You’re not dumb, you have a master’s degree in Criminology and worked for the FBI, but you couldn’t help but wonder if your soulmate would be disappointed when the two of you finally meet. There’s no way of telling which of your thoughts your soulmate had heard from you over the years; maybe he learned about your study of criminals or some of the bad guys you’d managed to catch over the years...or maybe he learned about how you have almost every episode of Friends memorized. Recently, the thoughts you heard have become more frequent. Back when you were a kid, the thoughts you heard could be weeks or even months apart, but as you got older, you heard his thoughts more and more often. Your mom had said that must mean you’re going to meet your soulmate pretty soon; the same thing had happened with her and your father.

“17 interviews and we still don’t have a replacement…”

The thought entered your head for a moment, but flickered away before it completed. “Don’t distract me today, soulmate. I’ve got a job interview.” You thought. Even though you don’t have any control over which thoughts he would hear, you hoped he had gotten your message. You currently worked in Crimes Against Children with the FBI, but after 4 years excelling in that area, one of the higher-ups, Strauss, had suggested applying for the renowned Behavioral Analysis Unit. You had become a profiler of sorts within CAC; when you were in college you had attended multiple lectures on the subject matter. Even though you weren’t officially trained, your bosses all agreed that you had the potential. Plus, the BAU had been down an agent for a while, so today you were meeting with SSA Hotchner.

When you arrived at the FBI headquarters today, instead of heading to your usual building, you went to the building where the BAU was held. Your nerves were getting the best of you as the elevator slowly made its way to the 6th floor, and to make matters worse, your soulmate’s thoughts were flying through your head at an astronomical rate. “I should book a flight to visit mom soon…” “Maybe we’ll finally get a new agent today....” “if Morgan tries to make me do his paperwork one more time…” Clearly, he hadn’t heard your plea to try and keep it down today. Or, he has just about as much control over which thoughts you heard as you did with his. Despite the foreign thoughts filling your head, you tried your best to stay focused as you exited the elevator and made your way towards Hotchner’s office.

As you walked through the room, your eyes were pulled from your destination to the various people sitting at the desks. Or, more specifically, to a certain guy filling out paperwork diligently. “Holy fuck, he’s cute.” You thought. Almost immediately, his head snapped up towards you. “Did he…?” “Wow.” You both thought at the same time. This time, you stopped walking, and he pushed away from his desk to get a better look at you. Your interview had almost completely slipped your mind until you heard someone call your name.

“SSA Y/L/N?” You turned away from the guy, who you were now incredibly intrigued by, to the man you recognized as Aaron Hotchner.

“SSA Hotchner, it’s good to see you again.” You said, giving him a wave. You weren’t a fan of shaking hands, although you were nervous your avoidance of the motion would come off unprofessional. Luckily, Hotchner didn’t seem to mind.

“Please, call me Hotch. My office is just this way, if you’d like to follow me.” Hotch led you to his office, where you took a seat in the chair across from his desk. Luckily, the thoughts from your soulmate - who may or may not be sitting right outside this office - had calmed down, so you had a clear head for your interview.

~~~

“Garcia!” Spencer burst into Garcia’s batcave, shocking the girl. Morgan stood next to her, looking at Spencer like he was insane.

“What’s wrong, pretty boy?”

“I need to know the name of the agent Hotch is interviewing right now.”

“Ok, you could’ve just asked like a normal person instead of giving me a heart attack!” Garcia grumbles, sitting in front of her computer to pull up the information. “Do I at least get a reason as to why you need to know about,” She paused, reading the name that had popped up on her screen, “SSA Y/N Y/L/N?” Spencer leaned down next to Garcia, so he could see the picture of you on the screen.

“Y/N Y/L/N…” The name felt perfect coming from his lips. It was like he never wanted to say another name again

“Reid? Seriously, what's up with this girl? Do you think she’s bad news?” Morgan asked, clearly concerned about Spencer’s actions

“N-no, I, um, I think she’s my soulmate.” Spencer whispered, not really registering what he had said until Garcia’s excited squeals finally tore his eyes away from the computer screen

“Oh my god this is the best thing that’s ever happened! Are you sure? Oh my god I need to do more research! No wait - if you think she’s your soulmate what are you doing in here with us! You need to be with her and fall in love and get married and name your first born after me like yesterday!” Garcia began rambling, grabbing Spencer’s hand and practically dragging him out of her office and back towards the bullpen. She continued talking as they walked over, while Morgan trailed behind with a wide smile on his face.

Prentiss and JJ had been chatting at their desks when Garcia dragged Spencer in. “Code Red, ladies! Spencer Reid met his soulmate and she’s with Hotch right now!” Garcia announced, finally letting go of Spencer’s arm.

“Holy shit!”

“Oh my god, Spence!”

Emily and JJ both gave Spencer a hug, while a blush rose to his cheeks. “I-I don’t know for sure yet. I just, it was like something was pulling me to her. And this time when I heard her thoughts it just felt so…” Spencer was at a loss for words, which was very rare for him. He couldn’t describe this brand new experience.

“Like everything suddenly made sense?” JJ suggested, as the only one in the group who actually knew what the experience of meeting your soulmate was like.

“Yeah.” Spencer nervously began to play with his hands, turning to look at the door. Through the blinds of Hotch’s office, he could just make out where she was sitting. “Good luck.” He tried to send her the thought, knowing that if they really were soulmates, he should have more control over which thoughts she would hear or not. He may have been imagining it, but he swore she saw her figure get less tense through the blinds.

~~~

“Well, Agent Y/L/N, you’re certainly one of the best candidate’s I’ve interviewed so far. I know you still have an active case to finish with CAC, but once that’s resolved we’d love to have you transfer over here to the BAU.” Hotch said with a small smile.

“Thank you so much, Hotch! My current case is almost wrapped up, so I should be able to officially transfer within the next week or so.” You said with a smile. The both of you stood from your chairs, and Hotch opened his office door for you. Immediately, your eyes found the man again, and you found he was already looking at you.

“Did you want to meet the rest of the team? Clearly, they’ve all decided it’s social hour anyways.” Hotch suggested, clearly not too pleased with the group that was very clearly not doing any work at the moment. He had mentioned that the team didn’t have a case right now, but you were sure there was still plenty of paperwork to get though.

“Yes! Please.” You said, maybe a little too enthusiastically. Even though you did want to be on good terms with the whole team, right now the only person you cared about was the man in the cardigan.

“Guys, this is SSA Y/N Y/L/N, she’ll be joining us here at the BAU soon. Y/L/N, this is SSAs Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, Jennifer Jareau, and Dr. Spencer Reid. Penelope Garcia is our technical analyst, and SSA David Rossi should be around here somewhere-”

Hotch was practically cut off by Penelope, who immediately pulled you in for a hug. You did your best to hide your discomfort, but you had always been a bit of a germaphobe.“Oh my God it’s so lovely to meet you, we’re all so excited for you to join our little family…” Penelope began to ramble as she pulled away from the hug, which you found endearing.

“Is she like this all the time?” You thought.

“Yes. You’ll get used to it.” Your eyes immediately move to Spencer’s. Dr. Spencer Reid.

“I’m sure I will. Don’t know if I’ll get used to talking in our minds though.” You think. You were completely tuned out of the conversation the other Agents had started, now focusing only on Spencer.

“Well, studies show that transitioning to life with a soulmate can be jarring, but not because of discomfort of hearing thoughts. It usually takes couples a long time to learn how to turn it off, which can result in soulmates getting to know each other’s secrets rather quickly. That’s why nearly 38% of soulmates will break up within a few months of starting a relationship, although it should be noted that 87% of those that break up will end up getting back together at some point in their lives.” Spencer’s thoughts began racing, and you suddenly understood all the random facts you had learned from him over the course of your life. As he told you the facts and figures of soulmates breaking up - not the best subject for a pair of soulmates that just met, but you didn’t mind - you noticed that the rest of the team had stopped talking and were now just watching you and Spencer converse in your heads.

“That probably explains why we’re talking with our thoughts instead of out loud. And why your team is staring.” Spencer’s cheeks reddened when he looked away from you and realized you were right.

“Honestly, I forgot they were there. Which is rare for me, I have an eidetic memory.” You laughed aloud at his remark, earning more confused looks from everyone else.

“Sorry, guys, I guess we got a little...distracted.” You spoke aloud for the first time in a few minutes. Spencer moved closer to you, his hand itching to take yours.

“Oh, please, don’t apologize, I was the same way with Will after we met. I know how overwhelming it can be at first.” Jennifer waved off your worries, and extended a hand towards you, “You can call me JJ, by the way.”

“Oh, um, I don’t really shake hands, I’m a bit of a germaphobe.” You worried once again about coming off as rude, but this remark only made JJ, and the rest of the team laugh.

“Wow, you two really are soulmates, aren’t you.” Derek remarked, swinging his arm over Penelope’s shoulder as he spoke.

“I’m the same way.” Spencer explained to you, “It’s actually safer to kiss.”

“I’m sure we’ll put that to the test when we’re alone.” You didn’t think it was possible, but Spencer’s face became even more red after your thought entered his own head.

~~~

tagged: @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid one shot #soulmate au #criminal minds

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stonesparrow · 3 years

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For the dr.stone x atla crossover I feel that even if Hyoga is or was a soldier in the fire army he wouldn’t have liked the idea of a nations worth of centuries of knowledge pasted down through generations being wiped of the face of the earth.

I just had a thought Hyoga could be a soldier in the fire army but he could also be a master instructor at his own dojo he inherited from his master kinda like master Piandao. He’s still a fire bender though.

Also I think I would be a cute and funny plot twist if he has a daughter who is still young but old enough to help fight and strong enough to thanks her dad training her. I think he’d be the same tough and cold character he is but he’s surprisingly tender, caring, gental, and kind to her in his own way that would just make the characters in the dr.stone universe jaws hit the floor lol.

Ah, you do have a point with Hyoga likely being disappointed that the knowledge of airbending was lost to genocide - all those ancient techniques would probably be really fascinating to him as a martial artist. Though I can also see him buying into the Fire Nation’s imperialist message of “we are the strongest nation, so we should rule over all the weaker nations.”

I like your idea that Hyoga is a fighting instructor, with his values he’d probably be something like Zuko in skillset - he puts a lot of effort into firebending, but also into spearfighting since he deeply respects the nonbender master who taught it to him. At the same time he has no time for people who either don’t take it seriously or are too weak to make a difference.

(More under the cut because this got long)

Him having a kid is an interesting plot twist and while it’s more twisty than I’d expect, I’m kind of intrigued by the potential it has. Though that also brings up the question of who the kid’s mom is, and when the kid was born (I estimate Hyoga’s age in DCST to be around 20-22). Homura maybe? Like...perhaps Hyoga and Homura were both fairly high class and had an arranged marriage, but while Homura fell in love with him as they grew up together Hyoga only respected her as a friend and fellow fighter.

And then if they had a daughter (maybe pressured by both their parents to produce an heir of some sort) it could make them both more complex characters. If the kid was really strong though I’d lean more towards an Ozai-Azula like dynamic with Hyoga impressing his values of “only the strong and skilled deserve to live,” onto her. Plus if we’re keeping relative canon ages then I’d estimate Homura to be 20, Hyoga to be 22, and their daughter to be 2 by the time Team Avatar shows up in the Fire Nation to do their thing.

However...I can see some potential with the kid turning out physically weak, and that throwing Hyoga’s values into wack.

Let’s say the toddler was born healthy and strong and an assessment by some Fire Sages said that she’d become an extremely powerful bender - this pleases Hyoga, since he can’t imagine having fathered a weak child with him and Homura’s combined firebending ability. And indeed, by the time the kid is two she shows signs of firebending power well beyond her age group, with Hyoga planning to train her into an extraordinarily strong warrior.

Except with such a strong fire at such a young age, the little girl suddenly falls terribly ill, having raging fevers and struggling to breathe. Hyoga’s ideals would tell him that such an ill child will die, and that’s that, the weak and ill perish while the strong survive. But he finds himself insisting that the kid will survive, because she’s strong, she has to survive. She’ll recover and become the strongest firebender this side of the Nation, not die a weakling.

Some time later, the Gaang shows up to Hyoga’s town to resupply. Pre-Zuko joining but maybe somewhere between meeting Piandao and encountering Combustion Man? Aang decides to visit the local firebending dojo (rip Sokka’s nerves) because hey, he wants to see some firebending techniques from actual benders, and he can tooooootally handle staying low key this time, honest! He encounters Hyoga and gets a fair bit intimidated by him, though Hyoga seems to approve of “Kuzon’s” highly adaptive martial arts style.

At some point, a messenger comes and Hyoga slips away. Being nosy, Aang follows them and catches enough of the conversation to determine that there’s a sick kid living in that fancy mansion, and relays his concerns to the Gaang. Katara immediately wants to investigate further - Sokka is again very stressed but understands that he can’t stop his sister once she’s made a decision (plus this is post Painted Lady and Katara is even more determined not to let children suffer if she can do anything about it). But when she tries the front entrance, the guards won’t let her in, even when she says she’s a healer. In fact, they deny that there’s a sick child at all, while Aang insists he didn’t hear wrong.

So Aang and Katara, ever the problem solvers, break into the mansion (airbending is super useful!) and find the kid’s bedroom. Katara assesses the patient - she determines that even with her waterbending, the kid will likely suffer from complications her whole life due to the damage she’s already sustained. Hyoga suddenly appears, asking them how they got into his house (he’s actually very curious, since they seemed to enter silently and without alerting anyone). When Katara excuses herself and says she’s a healer from the colonies (Aang’s explanation for how Katara has “special healing techniques unlike any other”) and just wanted to help, Hyoga says that he doesn’t need a healer, and that the girl will recover soon. Katara starts to argue and Hyoga starts insinuating that he could easily beat her in combat, when Homura shows up, pleading with Katara to save her daughter.

Hyoga and Homura start arguing, with Homura saying this may be their last chance and Hyoga saying that a true daughter of his would be able to fight off the sickness alone. Homura eventually asks if he’d rather have a dead daughter than a weak one, which makes him go quiet (Aang and Katara are standing there awkwardly watching all of this). Hyoga then calmly says that since they seem to be at a standstill, the reasonable course of action is an Agni Kai (Aang goes pale at this, while Katara doesn’t actually know what that is).

In the courtyard the Gaang watches anxiously as Hyoga and Homura begin their duel, which results in quite a few impressive displays of firebending. Homura however seems to be holding back slightly, more on the run than attacking. At one point Homura gets thrown on her back and nearly burnt, but Katara calls out to her, saying she has to win for the kid. She gets back up and starts attacking Hyoga with renewed resolve, and even Hyoga is surprised.

Hyoga realizes that as loyal as Homura is to him, she really is doing her best to win, even coming at him with direct shots of flame now. And since this is still Hyoga, he respects that deeply - she’s doing things “properly,” even though she doesn’t want to. He even respects that Katara was so dedicated to her role as a healer that she broke into his house just on the mere mention that there was a sick child there.

And in the very bottom of his heart, despite all the talk of strength and weakness and who deserves to live, he has a hard time realizing that he doesn’t want his daughter to die, even if it means she’ll be weak and reliant on others her whole life. This might be a little OOC for canon Hyoga, but hey, it’s an au and maybe if canon Hyoga did have something small and weak to protect, he’d be less of an ass to Senku and company.

So at a key moment in the battle, Hyoga pauses for a split second instead of dodging a blast from Homura and allows himself to be grazed on the chin, reminiscent of his revival scars in canon. It’s not a bad burn, and those watching closely realize that he let her win. Hyoga turns to leave, only saying that Katara will be compensated for her healing services and that they truly did things “properly.”

Katara heals the girl, saying that the fever is gone but her lungs are damaged and she’ll have breathing problems from now on. She’s paid a small sack of gold by a servant that she initially refuses, but takes in the end since it’d probably be good to have extra Fire Nation currency on hand. The Gaang leaves the mansion feeling...a little conflicted about the experience, honestly.

Meanwhile as Homura sits by the girl’s bedside Hyoga appears in the doorway, having treated his burn from the duel. An awkwardly long silence passes before Hyoga says he’s been thinking about the skills that "Kuzon” and “Sapphire” displayed, and that he’s considering buying a home in the colonies so he can learn about those types of skills (since Aang claimed they were from the colonies). He turns to leave, but not before offhandedly saying that the seaside air in the colonies he’s looked at might be good for their daughter’s lungs.

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