#but I’ll literally start stabbing the front office | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jupitermelichios · 4 years ago

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So I’ve been playing a lot of skyrim lately, because it’s video game comfort food, and I decided it was time for my Redguard Dovahkiin to settle down. (Actually I specifically just wanted to be able to adopt some of the random orphans you meet because I felt guilty about them, but you need to be married before you can do that so that there’s someone at home to take care of the kids while you’re off galivanting).

So I travelled around a bit, chatting up likely looking npcs until I found one I both liked and didn’t feel guilty about marrying (I feel bad if I marry one of the warrior adventurer types, making them be a stay at home mum) and settled on an obnoxiously cheerful argonian called Shavee because her life was frankly shit, and I thought she’d probably be good with kids.

So off I go to Riften to the Temple of Mara to arrange the wedding. I book it in for the next day, realise I didn’t bring anything nice to wear, and spend the night before the wedding robbing every house in the city in the search for something to wear. Eventually decide everyone in Riften has terrible fashion sense and break down everything I stole into raw materials and use them to craft myself an outfit and some jewellery that i’m pretty happy with. I even carefully pick out my fanciest looking sword to wear.

(don’t know why I bothered, frankly, shavee turned up wearing a shirt covered in suspicious stains and weilding a pickaxe, it’s like she doesn’t even care about this marriage)

(also for comedy purposes, bear in mind I play with survival mods that mean my character needs to eat and sleep to live, and I literally spent the entire ingame night on this and forgot to eat and drink anything either and then just downed four bowls of wolf stew right before entering the temple so I didn’t starve during the ceremony. also I discovered during the wedding that I am dying of rockjoint, which I contracted from sleeping in a pile of hay on the floor of a skeever infested cave, so even being six foot tall and jacked can’t make up for the fact that I am exhausted, running a fever, and probably covered in wolf which I spilled because my joints are slowly atrophying, and even the fanciest clothes in the world aren’t going to cover that up)

so I enter the temple, and my finance is there, and Lydia my housecarl, and some random NPCs the game thinks are my friends because I did fetch quests for them

One of the random NPCs is Lisbet. Atfter I did her fetch quest, I then did another quest in which I discovered Lisbet is secretly a cannibal and part of a demonic cult that worships the daedric prince of decay by kidnapping priests, sacrificing them, and then eating their corpses. Raw. I think the raw meat is the sticking point for me here honestly.

I ultimately decided not to sacrifice the random priest to a daedric prince in exchange for one magic ring and all the raw human I could eat, because frankly, that doesn’t sound like much of a deal to me. I was expecting there to be some kind of dialogue choice where I could nope out at the last minute, but it turns out there isn’t one, so after they drugged the priest and tied him to the altar, I just got out my sword and started swinging.

I killed most of the cult (including the town butcher, because I had brought meat from him before and was extremely pissed off that he might have been secretly feeding me humans) but a couple of them got away, which I figured was fine because they weren’t trying to kill me.

Except it turns out, if any of them escape, then every time you see them in the future there’s a random chance that they’ll fly into a violent rage and try and murder you.

Lisbet is at my wedding. Lisbet decides that clearly me marrying this random argonian woman with two lines of dialogue is the happiest day of my life, and she cannot allow me that happiness, when I’ve taken so much from her.

So she tries to kill me. Only she can’t, because I’m stuck in a pre-rendered wedding animation, and also she’s sitting next to Lydia, my faithful retainer and owner of a really big axe.

It also turns out that Lisbet is essential, meaning she can be knocked unconcious but not actually killed because she’s needed for some quest or other. And the minute she wakes up from unconciousness, she tries to kill me again, so Lydia knocks her unconcious again, and I’m stuck, I can’t move, because I’m supposed to be in the wedding animation.

Except Shavee has, not unreasonably, see all this and decided that she doesn’t like me enough to risk getting murdered, and has done a runner, leaving me at the altar, but more importantly, leaving me trapped in a broken pre-rendered animation, so all I can do is stand there at the altar, staring at the space where my fiance was supposed to be, listening to the sounds of Lydia trying and failing to beat a cannibal to death behind me.

Okay, I think, clearly this wedding isn’t going to happen, I’m going to go for the registry office option and complete the wedding using the dev commands. I do this. The priest gives me a wedding ring, and I can finally move again. I chase after Shavee, who has an impressive turn of speed on her, and eventually catch up right by the city gates. I try to talk to her.

Apparently using the console has completed the wedding for me, but not for her, because she still only has the same 2 lines of dialogue she usually has.

Clearly this is working, I can’t leave my kids with someone who can only say 2 things and doesn’t even know she’s their mum, that’s irresponsible.

I try loading from inside the temple. I get the same problem.

Eventually I figure out that I need to use the dev controls to disable Lisbet’s entire existence in the universe.

Shavee and me get married. As the priest reads the vows, I stare at Shavee and wonder why she couldn’t even be bothered to put on a clean shirt. I wonder what kind of mother she’ll be.

Once the ceremony is over, and I’m happily married to the dirty green lizard of my dreams, and we’ve agreed that until I can make her recognise my extremely nice modded house exists I will share her single bed in the unheated flophouse in Windhelm she calls home, I re-enable Lisbet, because I’m worried I’ll forget if I leave it too long.

Fun fact about skyrim, it loads in quite a lot of npcs and objects by dropping them from the sky. I have no idea why this is the case, but it’s objectively the funniest way to load in objects.

I re-enable Lisbet. She falls from the sky, clips through the roof of the temple, and lands in the pew beside Lydia, stands up, draws a knife, and is immedately beaten unconcious.

I no longer care, because Shavee now has all the exciting new spouse-only romantic dialogue options like “Could you cook something for me” and “have you made any money lately”, and I know she’ll be a great mother.

I limp to the door of the temple, while around me the guests not involved in the Lydia-Lisbet murder cycle scream and duck for cover.

I open the door to the temple, immediately collapse and ragdoll down the steps, which is how I discover I am dying of rockjoint.

I limp to the orphanage down the street, adopt two kids, and then finally remember that I’m carrying garlic bread, which as we all know, cures all known illnesses.

When I emerge back into the street, full of the joys of motherhood and garlic bread, I find the town in disaray. Lydia is chasing Lisbet through the streets with an axe and a dragon is circling overhead, burning npcs to death. People are running for shelter, screaming, while the guards try to take down an entire dragon using only the worst bows and arrows in the game.

I decide that as a parent, I have to think of my own safety first and leave them to it.

I head out of the city, intent on returning home and figuring out why Shavee refuses to move in with me. A man hanging around the stables challenges me to a boxing match. For want of anything better to do, I agree.

Halfway through the fight he dodges at the wrong moment and I punch one of his horses in the head.

Two guards attack me while I desperately try to surrender. My kids will miss me, but I’m prepared to go to jail for my horse crimes, I’m an honest citizen. Also my horse crimes seem somewhat less important than the dragon.

The guards refuse to accept my surrender. I am stabbed to death. As I collapse in front of the indifferent horse, Lisbet exits the city, followed by Lydia. The last thing I see before I die is Lydia swinging her axe at Lisbet’s face.

#skyrim #spoilers #technically #although this game is a decade old and we all own at least two versions of it at this point #so i'm not sure it counts #long post

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sukirichi · 4 years ago

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not shy

megumi was not shy around his crush — and that’s a fucking lie.

request: shy megumi who is really flustered around his crush + his friends and gojo-sensei helping him confess

note: this is fluff and a semi crack fic too LOL i hope you guys enjoy this, i had a lot of fun with this one! unedited too, as usual!

word count: 4.5k

masterlist !

playlist made by the lovely @savantsoulfinder thank you so much!

“Yo, Megumi-kun, can you take—” Satoru halted in his steps, following the trail of sight that his dark-haired student seemed to be so enamoured in to not even notice his teacher walk his way. “What are you staring at?” when his gaze landed on you, head thrown back in laughter and slapping Panda’s arm over Yuuji’s joke, Satoru’s eyes beamed even under the blindfold. “Oh? You like Y/N?”

Upon hearing your name, Megumi immediately snapped back to life. He scoffed and turned away from you, scowling to himself with his arms crossed against his chest. “No, I don’t. I don’t like anyone.” So defensive.

“Is that so?” Satoru teased while biting back his laughter, “Guess you won’t mind if I call her then. Hey, Y/N!”

“Gojo-sensei, what’re you doing?!” Megumi grabbed his teacher’s sleeve, whisper-hissing and cursing under his breath when Satoru caught your attention. You waved at them both, skipping until you were getting impossibly closer and closer and closer.

“Well, I don’t want you to carry these all alone. You’re gonna need some help.”

“I’m perfectly fine – h-hi.”

Shit, you were now here. You smiled up at him, hands folded below your bottom before tipping your head to the side, looking under Megumi’s ducked head to see his face. “Hey there, Megumi! Looking cute today,” you winked, causing the poor boy to blush madly. You never noticed, though, your attention now taken by your teacher turning red as he stopped his laughter. “Gojo-sensei! You called me?”

“Oh yeah, you’re just right on time. I was going to ask Megumi here to bring these books all back to my office but it’s probably too heavy for him so I asked—”

“It’s not heavy,” Megumi took the books that Satoru placed in your welcoming arms, the slightest touch sending jolts of electricity down his spine. He pulled away and clutched the books closer to himself at the sudden buzz, narrowing his eyes at his teacher who obviously couldn’t mind his own business. “I can carry it by myself.”

“I still wanna help, and I really don’t mind. Plus, I haven’t talked to you in a long time. I actually kind of feel like you’re avoiding me,” you pouted, and that simple gesture had Megumi feeling like he was sinking deeper into the ground.

He was ready for the whole world to swallow him up.

Satoru took pleasure in Megumi’s reddish ears and clenched jaw, cupping his own jaw with his hands as if to mock. “Aw, Megumi, why would you avoid precious Y/N? Did she do something wrong to you?”

“No, she didn’t.”

“Well, if there’s nothing wrong, you two better scoot before you get late to your other class!”

“Alright, see you around, Gojo-sensei!” Shit, why were you such a good girl? Now he was stuck with you, and Megumi huffed while hesitantly sharing the books with him. You walked close enough to him that he caught a slight whiff of your shampoo, the scent clouding over his usually sharp mind. Now, though, Megumi could barely recognize the hallways he walked on, relying only on you to lead the way. “So...how’ve you been?”

“Fine.”

“How about your studies? We have an exam next week – maybe you want to study together? Inumaki-senpai and I were supposed to have a study group with the others but everyone just wants to study by themselves,” you turned to him with a small smile, “I do better when I’m with someone though.”

Megumi managed to give you a split second glance before he darted his eyes back in front of him again, swallowing audibly because he couldn’t understand why you had to look so pretty smiling like that.

His palms grew sweaty with each passing second, and he grimaced at the uncomfortably feeling of his collar getting sticky. “Uh, wh-where would we study? We don’t have a library or anything.”

“The training grounds is refreshing, but I’d like it to do it better in my room.”

“Do what?” Megumi halted in his steps, his eyes blown wide at your words.

“Study, of course. What else?”

He wasn’t sure whether to laugh or be worried that you frowned in confusion, almost as if you didn’t understand the weight of your words. But then again, you’d always been so damn oblivious that it made sense. Megumi shook his head, continuing on to the teacher’s office before remembering he still lost his sense of direction, so he bit his lip, obediently following you around like a puppy.

“You shouldn’t just invite anyone to your room, you know.”

Once you both made it to the empty room, you carefully placed the books down on Satoru’s desk. He raised a brow at the extra detail you put into, tongue peeking out from the edges of your lips as you made sure all of them were placed together neatly.

Satisfied with your work, you clapped your hands and turned to him.

“I’m not. You’re not just anyone to me, Megumi,” Suddenly, you leaned over him, his mind screaming at him when your lips lowered down to his neck. Megumi’s spine stiffened so quick he might as well be a flat board, his chin pressed to his neck when he felt your teeth graze his exposed skin for a moment. “There’s a loose thread,” you showed him a small thread with a small smile, which fell as fast when you saw Megumi standing uncomfortably straight. “Oh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to invade your personal space like that!” “I’m a little weird, aren’t I? That would explain why you’ve been avoiding me. Do I make you feel uncomfortable?”

“No, it’s not that...it’s just...”

“Just what?”

His mind blanked. Ask him anything about curses or their history and pretty much anything – he’d be able to answer – but not this. They didn’t teach this in the books and out of frantic nervousness, Megumi ended up spewing the first thing he could think of, his brows drawn together that only added to his intimidating look.

“I’m just annoyed that you scored higher than me on the previous exam.”

“Oh,” you fell for it, snapping your fingers together as you laughed. Somehow, the sound of your melodious laughter had his shoulders easing from the tension, the smallest of smiles hinting at the edge of his lips. Gosh, he was so whipped for you. “Was that really it? I thought you were avoiding me for something serious! Well, how about this, let’s study together and let’s see who’s the smarter one. The loser will get tickled to death!”

“I haven’t even agreed to that condition yet.”

“Okay, what do you want if you win?”

Megumi blushed as he blurted out, “You.”

Before he could regret what he just said, you scrunched your nose and pointed to yourself. “Me what? You want me to do something? You want me to buy you ice cream or—”

“Never mind,” he mumbled behind his palm that was now covering his mouth, refusing to show you that he actually wanted to laugh at how naive you could be. Not that he was complaining; it saved him great pain that you could never know his feelings for you. “I’ll ask for it when I’m sure I’ll win.”

“Ah, not a man of uncalculated risks, I see,” you ruffled his hair, the poor boy stiffening up again under your touch. “This is why I like you so much. You’re so thoughtful.”

“Please don’t touch my hair.”

Megumi was complaining, his shoulders raised beside his ears while he scowled at you, but the way a small, almost inaudible purr left his lips said otherwise. He didn’t want you touching his hair – only because he was shy and it would be the death of him if you saw how easily flustered he was around you.

Thankfully, you showered mercy upon him, raising your hands in surrender. “Alright, alright, we should go back to class now.”

Megumi sighed in relief, content for now to walk you all the way back to class as you talked about your day. He wasn’t actually listening, but a stupid smile was there on his face, anyway. He likened the sound of your voice to those of birds chirping and sunshine waking – and he felt like he was the fresh earth you always kissed.

“You’re going to burn a hole in her if you keep staring at her like that.”

“Shut up,” Megumi averted his eyes away from you, stabbing his yogurt with his plastic fork. A part of him felt annoyed that you just had to look so pretty today, your bright voice filling in the cafeteria that put his constant sour mood to shame. The stark difference between you two made Megumi sigh in his seat, abandoning his fork as he leaned back. There was no way you’d like him back. “I wasn’t looking at anyone.”

“Ugh, why are boys so creepy? Staring at Y/N like that, ew.”

Yuuji ignored Nobara’s comment, and for once, Megumi let it slide when Nobara stealed his untouched yogurt. “Why don’t you just tell her you like her? She’s literally the sweetest person ever – the chances of her turning you down are low!”

Nobara snorted, “Yeah, but if the sweetest girl in school rejects you, that’s really humiliating. That would mean she likes everyone but you.”

Satoru popped out of nowhere – that stupid blindfolded bastard who started all this – his arms looped around Yuuji’s neck whose entire face illuminated at having his favourite teacher around. “I think the scary-looking Megumi-chan is actually just too shy to be confess,” he wiggled his eyebrows, pointing a finger fun to Megumi’s deadly narrowed gaze. “Can you believe it? My dark, brooding student is hopelessly in love with the cute, sunshine girl next door that he’s so scared around her? Isn’t that so adorable—”

“Everyone shut up!” he hissed through gritted teeth, “I’m not scared of anyone or anything.”

“Then tell her you like her.”

“Fine, I will.”

“I bet you ten dollars he won’t do it,” Satoru whispered, the two students who shared one brain cell beside him nodding eagerly.

“I said I will!”

“Good morning, Megumi! Come in, come in,” you ushered him in once he stood frozen at your door, his hands now awkwardly clutching his own notes. “You can take a seat on the bed.”

Megumi wasn’t nervous of the fact this was his first time visiting a girl’s room, but rather because it was yours, and each part of your room resembled you greatly. From the organized and clean space, but the noticeable adorable little trinkets and polaroids of you with everyone sticking on the wall, he could feel your entire soul living in that room. When his eyes landed on an old photo of you holding up the peace sign and noticed for the first time he was standing in the background, unaware he was captured in the frame, Megumi inhaled sharply.

Had you pretended to take a selfie just to see him there?

No, he shook his head, there was just no way. He really couldn’t ponder about it long enough because you’d dragged him by the sleeve until he was sitting right next to you, the fresh scent of your body wash making him feel stunningly warm inside his clothes even when the windows were open.

The whole time, Megumi couldn’t absorb a single thing you were saying.

He was just too distracted by everything about you – the way your lips moved when you spoke, how you’d tuck back a stray hair behind your ear, even to the way your mouth would form an ‘o’ shape as you learned something new. No, he couldn’t focus at all.

Megumi has lost count of the times he’d wiped his shaky, sweaty palms on the pads of his sweatpants, hitching his breath every time you leaned close to him to glance at his notes.

At this rate, he’d be the loser in your little competition. It was just impossible for him to focus on anything else.

“Megumi?” you waved your hands in front of him. When it wasn’t enough to get his attention, you resorted to flicking his forehead and he yelped, rubbing at the sore spot. He faced you, a complaint ready to be spoken when his eyes widened at the sudden lack of proximity, your nose booping against his. “Hello, Megumi? I’ve asked you the same question twice now and you haven’t answered yet.”

As nicely as he could, he pushed your face away, his heart thumping loudly when you laughed as you went back to your own space. “Sorry, could you repeat that? I wasn’t really listening.”

“Yeah, I can tell, you were just staring at me the whole time,” you held your phone up in front of your face, checking your reflection on the screen on different angles. He watched, enchanted by how gorgeous you looked no matter what side. “Is there something on my face...? I’ve been checking non-stop and I don’t see anything weird.”

Megumi swallowed nervously, “There’s nothing wrong with your face. I just can’t focus. You’re too close and I-I can smell you.”

“Do I smell bad?!”

“No, you don’t! You smell really sweet!”

“Aw, thanks! You smell sexy too,” you winked at him, wiggling your shoulders as if to share your scent with him. Megumi’s eyes widened when your shoulder rubbed against his, and he recoiled, arm placed over his nose to hide his emotions that were a train wreck right now.

“Sexy?” he spluttered, “Why would you say – me – sexy? You’re so weird, Y/N. You shouldn’t say stuff like that.”

You patted his thigh in a manner that should be comforting, but the teasing smile on your face only had him wanting to jump out the window even more. Then, you stood up and stretched the material of your shirt riding up until he caught sight of your navel. Megumi turned away and closed his eyes, cheeks trapped between his teeth. “We should take a break. Treat’s on me – where do you want to go?”

“Err,” he scratched the back of his head.

“Oh, don’t look too worried, it’s a weekend. Plus, Gojo-Sensei isn’t around to bother us or something.”

“You...you want to go out...” he drawled out slowly, tentatively, surely – just to make sure that he was hearing it right. “...with me?”

“Yeah, I did just ask where you want to go.”

“Oh,” Megumi nodded with a blank face. Then, your words sank in, and he folded his knees to his chest to hide his face and his sickly sweet smile, the butterflies in his stomach progressing into a fucking zoo. “Oh.”

“Are you sick? You’re so red,” your palm connected with his heated forehead, “Megumi, you’re burning! Should I take you to Ieri-san?”

“No, no, I’m fine,” he pushed your hand away, still repudiating to look you in the eye. He just couldn’t, not when you were too inquisitive and he could easily give a dead clue before he got the chance to properly confess. “I mean, I don’t really have a certain place in mind. I’ll go wherever you want to go.”

He should’ve noticed it then – the mischievous glint in your eye that told him you weren’t up to no good. But because his knees always weakened around you, Megumi agreed way too eagerly than he’d like. “Just make sure you don’t regret it, okay? There’s something I’ve always been wanting to try but I never got the chance to and no one wanted to go with me, so you’ll be my willing victim!” And so, half an hour later, Megumi’s jaw dropped as the chill of the arena nipped at his skin. You didn’t even tell him to bring a jacket. “Ta-da!”

“Ice skating?”

You nodded happily, dragging him all the way to the shoe fittings. “It’s going to be fun, come on!”

“But I don’t know how to.”

“Neither do I!” Megumi wasn’t lying when he said he didn’t know how to. No matter how much he tried so hard to learn, he just couldn’t balance himself. The sound of your laughter that let him know you enjoyed this way too much reached his ears as he glared at the ice, his ears red either from the cold or the humiliation of being an utter failure in front of you, of all people! “Need some help there, buddy?”

“I’m fine, thanks for asking. And no, I can do this by myself.”

You masked your chuckle with a snicker, squatting to watch as he struggled to heave himself up back to his feet. “Really? You’ve fallen like, a hundred times now.”

“Shut up. Humans aren’t naturally supposed to do this anyway. We don’t have a human instinct to be upright – whoa!” Megumi slipped again from the ice, this time knocking you down with him. Instead of it being romantic where you two ended up gazing at each other with love in your eyes, your eyes widened into saucers as his elbow landed into your belly, crushing the wind out of your body.

“Ow!”

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to – ugh, this is why I said it was a bad idea!”

All the way back home, Megumi was still entirely convinced it was a bad idea. You were limping beside him, having to use his bicep as a crutch with your head resting on his shoulder. You and your stupid ideas, really, now you were injured and sprained your ankle from the fall. Instead of worrying about your own safety, you only slapped your knee in laughter as the medics fixed you up, still in disbelief that Megumi had fallen a lot of times yet came out unscathed.

“Megumi~ are you still mad at me? Why won’t you talk to me?” you pouted, squeezing his bicep to get his attention.

“It’s because I told you it was dangerous. Look at you – your knees are all scraped and your legs are all wobbly. We’ve still got a long way back home.”

“Maybe you should carry me then.”

“C-carry you?”

“Yeah, so I don’t fall,” you snorted, pointing to your shoeless ankle covered in bandages. “I mean, it was your fault I’m injured. If you hadn’t fallen for me, then this wouldn’t have happened.”

Fallen for you? Did you know that he – ? Megumi’s head snapped to yours so hard he nearly had whiplash, but the only thing he could focus on was the pounding of drums within his chest. “F-fall? How did you know?”

“Megumi, you literally fell on top of me. Don’t think I’ve forgotten already.”

That had him blinking back, his face flattening into a blank expression. Then, he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he stopped in his tracks. “Sometimes I forget you’re terribly naive.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing. Now get on,” With burning cheeks and a heart that fluttered way too much than what was considered healthy, Megumi squatted down to the ground, patting his back with a groan. You less than jumped into his arms, a little too excited to get a piggyback ride and Megumi expressed his faux distress with a groan. You only pinched his ear and told him to pay you back for your injuries, which made him complain again.

In the end, he was just happy you couldn’t see how much he struggled to hide his smile then, for if you saw it, you’d surely believe he was crazy.

Or so he thought. By the time you’d gotten back to the dorms, you were long passed out on his back. There was a small patch of drool on the back of his shirt and he shuddered, then wiped it away by whispering to himself, it’s okay – as long as it’s you.

Padding back to the dorms wasn’t as difficult as he thought it would be, considering everyone was almost asleep or out to the city as well.

Megumi gently laid you down on the bed, wrapping the blanket around you and making sure your head was comfortable on the pillow. He stayed there for a solid minute, just staring and memorizing your pretty features until he felt confident he could draw it upon memory. Not wanting to be creepy though, he cleared his throat, about to leave the room when your fingers tugged at his wrist.

“Megumi,” you moaned sleepily, “Don’t go. It’s too cold.”

“I’ll get you another blanket.”

“No, stay,” you whined, patting the space next to you. “Please?”

“To sleep here with you?” he asked, baffled and at the same time elated. The last thing he wanted to be was a pervert and he’d never outright admit that his thoughts of you hadn’t always been giggles and rainbows, but he pushed those down, reminding himself that this is you – he respected you above all else. His self restraint slowly thinned though, whatnot with you pouting up at him like that.

Megumi groaned and took off his shoes anyway, planting himself beside you. “This is insane. I think I’m losing my mind,” he muttered to himself. “Move over and make space for me,” you obediently followed his command, using his bicep as a pillow while your cheek squished against his chest. He wondered how you weren’t bothered by his heart’s beating, or maybe it soothed you to sleep because you were falling deeper and deeper asleep, burying yourself in his arms. “God, this is so uncomfortable. I feel like I’m crushing you—”

“So warm,” you cut him off, his mind turning completely mental as he felt your lips pad over his chin. “Goodnight, Megumi.”

How did you expect him to sleep now?

But as soon as you’d settled and only your stabled breathing could be heard from the room, Megumi’s eyes began to droop as well, and it didn’t take long before his arms relaxed around you, lazily pulling the covers up to cover the both of you.

He’ll tell you another time.

“MEGUMI!” you pushed through everyone and showed him your paper, the bold red mark of 100 glaring back at him. Before he could respond, you stole his test paper from him, laughing at the sad 98 that showed. “Ah, I won!” In the blink of an eye, you’d tackled him to the ground, your knees keeping his legs locked underneath you, test papers flying around the field. Your hands were relentless and brutal as it ran and poked up his sides, eliciting squeaky little gasps from him.

“Stop, stop!” Megumi doubled over in laughter, keeping his feet flat on the ground to prevent himself from accidentally kneeing you. He’d hurt you enough during the ice skating dilemma – he didn’t want to cause you anymore injuries. “No, stop!”

“I won, Megumi, I won! Face the tickle monster!”

“I said stop or else!” he warned, completely aware that he wasn’t as threatening or serious as he wanted to be when tears leaked from his eyes, his laughter embarrassingly giggly and high pitched.

“Or what, loser?”

“I’ll kiss you until you shut up!”

“That’s adorable, but let’s see you try!” you kept tickling his sides, the both of you completely oblivious that the rest of your classmates – your teacher who was more than supportive of this pairing included – were hiding behind a bush, their phones whipped out to capture each second of this moment. “Loser!”

As you mocked him one more time that you wouldn’t stop tickling “losers,” Megumi had to draw the line. Using all his strength, he flipped you over until you were underneath him, the sheer force of the impact keeping you nestled between his arms.

Both of you were panting, but this time his breath was taken away from how beautiful you looked under him like that. Such innocent eyes staring back up at him, but don’t think for a moment he didn’t notice how your eyes trailed over his lips. He knew – because he was doing the same, his grip subconsciously gripping harder at your wrists. If he leaned down...

“This is taking too long!” someone whined from behind the bushes, tips of white hair peaking from the plant. “Just kiss her already!”

Both of you turned at the source of the voice, simultaneously shouting, “Gojo-sensei?!”

“Don’t be shy, Megumi-kun! Just tell her already or I’ll tell her myself.”

“Tell me what?”

Now that your face was peering up at him, he knew he was trapped. Cornered. Megumi closed his eyes, hands trembling and losing their grip around you as he was confronted by the situation. “I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner,” he fumbled over his words, “But I...I actually—”

“Boring! What kind of confession is this? Say it louder and clearer or she won’t be impressed! Is that how a man does it, Megumi-kun? You can do better—”

“All of you, shut the fuck up!” he roared to his peers who only cackled around the bushes, Yuuji and Gojo-sensei doubling over in laughter while Toge bit his collar to stop the gleeful sounds leaving his mouth. Irritation and humiliation bubbling up in his chest, Megumi finally found the courage to confess. “I like you, okay? I’ve always had a crush—”

You sat up to wrap your arms around his neck, silencing him with a sloppy kiss. At first, your lips kissed the edges of his mouth before Megumi groaned, his large hand clasping the back of your neck to guide you to where he wanted you to be. Smiling through the kiss, you pulled away, rubbing your nose on him affectionately. “Me too, Megumi,” you giggled, “I like you too. Actually, no, I fell in love the moment you almost broke your nose on the ice—” he cut you off by kissing you again, his grip on your waist threatening, “Hey, no fair, I was still confessing!”

“I wasn’t kidding when I said I’ll kiss you to make you shut up,” his confidence had now risen up, all traces of the shy Megumi now gone. “Now tell me that again. Tell me you like me.”

“Okay, but can I get another kiss?”

“You’ll be spoiled rotten.”

“I think I deserve it, don’t you think? I’m pretty cute – you’re lucky you get to kiss—” Megumi tugged you by your collar to slam your lips on his, his teeth nibbling at your lower lip. You tugged at his hair playfully and laughed, slapping his shoulder gently to tap out. “Fine, fine. I like you too!”

“Say it again. Please.”

“Not so shy now, eh, Megumi?” Satoru teased for the final time, and Megumi was so close to bursting a vein in his neck when his teacher showed up from the bushes, sexily posing on the grass as he winked at the both of you.

“SHUT UP!”

#fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #fushiguro megumi #fushiguro megumi x reader imagines #megumi x reader imagines #fushiguro megumi x reader romance #fushiguro megumi x reader fluff #megumi x reader romance #megumi x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen megumi #jujutsu kaisen fushiguro megumi #jujutsu kaisen romance #jujutsu kaisen x you #fushiguro megumi x you #jujutsu kaisen crack #jujutsu kaisen comedy #suki: 500 milestone event

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taiey · 4 years ago

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Melanie has this self-image that she's—not just angry but dangerous, a hairsbreadth from violence. We hear it in 131 when she talks about her past:

Anger is… Anger’s been all I’ve had for a very long time. Years. Maybe since… oh, I, I don’t know. ... Angry at being passed over, being disrespected, ignored. That sort of anger, it – it powers you. Right up until it slips out and hurts someone.

and in 190 when she talks about how she feels about the cult:

If I didn’t have Georgie, I think I might just snap and beat them all to death. ... I swear, if it’s another hymn I am going to break something!

But look at how she actually reacts to Arun:

MELANIE: [Awkward] Oh, okay, um… Right, so… Arun, I just think that the… GEORGIE: I don’t think either of us is particularly comfortable with your use of the word “redeemers”. MELANIE: That’s… that’s not how it works. Is it? John? ARCHIVIST: Oh? No. That’s not how it works.

John and Georgie are included to demonstrate what "person being distinctly less gentle with Arun than Melanie is" looks like. Actually, ‘gentle’ is a bit of an understatement—I might be better to say ‘timid’.

And it’s not like this is the product of the therapy or, idk, Georgie. This entire post is inspired by pronouncingitwang’s post pointing this out—rewind to her first appearance:

I waited for another five minutes, but when Sarah still hadn’t returned I started to get a bit worried. I should have woken the others, but if it turned out she’d just gone to the bathroom, I didn’t want to embarrass her in front of everyone. In that case she should have got one of us up to take over watching, anyway, but she’d hardly been the most professional while she was working with us, so it wouldn’t have surprised me if she hadn’t. After another five minutes, I decided to go look for her.

Like, Sarah is not fulfilling her responsibilities that she agreed to carry out. (and in a kinda dangerous way) But Melanie’s worried about embarrassing her.

In the end it was actually Toni that asked we not work with Sarah Baldwin again. Apparently she’d gotten “weird vibes” and didn’t feel comfortable around her. I agreed, though I didn’t share my reasons.

She doesn’t even speak up first to say “let’s not work with her again”—again, this is kinda crossing the line from 'gentle' to 'timid'. Like, you can react to things that negatively affect you without over-reacting? (This is something she works on in therapy! Speaking up that she doesn't like 'Mel'; work-stoppage at her evil work: constructive responses.) (the apocalypse, uh, derails this a tad. :| )

What effect does the Slaughter have on this? Well, the next example is while she's got the bullet in her.

In episode 100, she's already tired and frustrated when Brian comes in. (let’s get this over with. I just don’t hold out a lot of hope for… coherence.) She does not get coherence. Instead she gets a panic attack. (Admittedly kinda her fault, because she said that the archives couldn't help with his spider problem. But like, that's more about the circumstances being objectively panic-inducing, she wasn’t being Mean or anything.) And... she's gentle.

I… Please, just… There’s, there’s tea there. Okay. Right. Yes. Okay, breathe. Yeah… well… Drink, drink the tea.

I’ll, I’ll get you some biscuits. I’ll get you, I’ll get you, I’ll get you… something… Just breathe! Breathe for me… [BRIAN TAKES SOME CALMING DEEP BREATHS] Okay, yes. Good. Good.

She's not confident or practiced or comfortable at it. She's out of her depth and kinda at the end of her rope and... gentle. Trying.

I think the through-thread is—people she has power over. She feels that anger and chokes it down because she could hurt them.

It’s difficult to strike the right balance, when you’re doing that.

(There’s another bucket of just—equals. Basira’s always there; John is for the rest of season 4 after 125; Helen :| ; Martin at least in season 5; etc. She has casual, unguarded conversations, too; and ones that are mostly focused on some goal, and ones where she’s getting what she wants, and all sorts of things.)

Towards people with power over her (the guy with the steady office job and authority over whether her experience counts as genuine; apparent boys’ club; evil mindreading murder boss; etc) she bites back. The difference is it's safe to do that because—one part she can't hurt them, and one part it'd be deserved. (Melanie as a comedian who always punches up.)

Except, you know... there's this bit in where 106 Basira and Melanie discuss how she 'literally' made Tim and Martin cry, and... while you can construct reasons they could 'have power over her'—seniority, gender—Basira's only been around since 092. Since that point, it's obvious that those aren't real power here. That's what the Slaughter is doing to her with her; validating seeing the world as more and more against her, handing her power and encouraging her to see herself as a put-upon victim, free to fight back guiltlessly.

And then she wakes up to a numb, wounded leg and stabs John. I wonder—what if "Right up until it slips out and hurts someone. I hurt someone." & "It didn’t stay in my leg because of some ghostly master plan. It stayed because I wanted it." in 131 are saying that - like - it wasn't taking out the bullet that de-Slaughtered her? That it was the wake-up call that she hurt John, someone who was trying to help her, and she didn't want to do that.

Didn’t want to be that.

@melaniemonth I don’t know if this is Platonic, or Health: therapy&recovery, or simply Self, but it is very, very Melanie.

#Melanie King #the magnus archives #melamonth2021 #tma #tma meta #meta #mine #characterisation

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cobrakaisb · 4 years ago

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modern day romeo and juliet part 2

read part one here!

a/n: here is the largely anticpated part two of the imagine! after getting numerous asks begging for a part two, i decided to finally publish it. sorry it took me so long besties but school and softball have been kicking my ass lately. love you all!!!

summary: you and hawk are going strong but your friendship with sam and demetri has fallen apart, or has it. (also warning: reader gets a bloddy nose in this imagine if that bothers you in anyway don’t read)

word count: 1,711

“so are you and hawk like together now?” moon asked as the two of you walked to the cafeteria. “yeah,” you answered, a light blush coating your cheeks. “oh my gosh yes! i’m so happy for you!” she shouted, wrapping her arms around your shoulders, squeezing tightly. “thanks moon,” you replied half-heartedly. moon immediately picked up on your sad demeanor, “what's wrong?” “nothing,” you answered, giving her a fake smile. moon was going to call your bluff, but she was interrupted by hawk. “hey guys,” he greeted, pulling you into a tight hug.

“hi hawk,” you replied, arms wrapped around his waist as he swayed you back and forth. “are you sitting with us at lunch?” he asked, looking at you. “yeah probably. your friends won’t mind right?” you asked. hawk immediately shook his head no, the two of you just staring at each other intensely. “you guys are so cute! i’ll see you later y/n,” moon announced, walking away from you and hawk. the two of you pulled apart, hands intertwined as he led you over to the cobra kai table.

“anything from sam?” hawk asked quietly. you gently shook your head, causing hawk to frown. he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, “she’ll come around,” he assured. “i hope so,” you mumbled as the two of you sat down at the cobra kai table. your sad mood was immediately lifted however when doug and big red started throwing napkins at you.

“i can’t believe she’s actually sitting with him,” demetri said, appalled at the fact that you were sitting with hawk at lunch. “why wouldn’t she be sitting with hawk? they’re together now,” moon said, a happy smile on her face as she watched you laugh from your spot next to him at the cobra kai table. “i still can’t believe that. how could y/n even like someone like him?” sam asked, angrily stabbing at her lunch with a fork. moon’s eyes widened as she watched sam. “aren’t you happy for her?” moon asked, confusion clear in her voice.

sam scoffed at moon’s words. “why would i be happy that she’s fraternizing with the enemy?” sam asked. “the enemy? do you even hear yourself?” moon asked sam, and even demetri looked surprised by sam’s words. sam was silent, shooting a sad look your way. “you regret it don’t you?” demetri accused sam, but she just remained silent, looking down at her lunch. “regret what? what did you guys do?” moon asked.

“when we caught y/n and hawk kissing at your party a while back, we may have kicked her out of miyagi-do,” demetri mumbled, feeling ashamed by their actions. “are you kidding me!” moon yelled, causing some heads to turn, but she just shooed them off with a wave of her hand. “that’s why y/n has been so down lately? because you kicked her out of karate?” moon asked, while demetri and sam just nodded. “you guys are the worst,” she continued. “thanks for reminding us,” sam mumbled, sparing a glance at you.

you were laughing at something that doug had said. “that’s too funny,” you mumbled between laughs. the boys just laughed at how funny you found doug’s joke, when in reality it wasn’t meant to be that funny. “i can’t believe that you’re in miyagi-do y/n. you’re nothing like those dorks,” doug said. you tensed up at his words, and hawk took immediate notice. he glared at doug, ready to tell him off, but you beat him to it. “i’m actually not in miyagi-do any more. they kicked me out,” you said sadly. the boys all looked around in embarrassment. “but it’s whatever because i have a boyfriend and all the children we adopted now,” you joked, holding up peace signs.

“what kids did we adopt?” hawk asked, confusion clear in his voice. “literally everyone here. they are all out children,” you explained, gesturing to the table full of boys. the boys all burst into laughter while hawk just wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. you rest your head on his shoulder, placing a small kiss on his neck. “ew! imagine having to watch your parents do that!” doug shouted jokingly, throwing a fruit snack your way. everyone laughed at him, and soon lunch was over.

“hawk! wait for me!” you shouted, walking out of the locker room dressed for gym class. hawk immediately stopped walking, waiting for you to catch up to him. “hi!” you said, giggling as he peppered small kisses all over your face. “hawk let’s go!” one of his friends yelled from up ahead. hawk grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers, as he pulled you towards the front of his squad.

together the group of you walked onto the soccer field. of course the boys were being confident, walking with their heads held high. you just rolled your eyes at them and their cocky behavior. “alright let’s remember to keep the aggression to a minimum due to the school’s new policy,” the gym teacher shouted as she blew the whistle signaling the start of the soccer game.

almost immediately, sam and the other miyagi-do students were blatantly going for the cobra kai boys. you noticed that doug was about to retaliate but hawk held him back, mumbling something, which clearly calmed him down. the game continued, and hawk scored a goal. you cheered loudly for him, and he just winked at you, causing you to blush. the game went on, and each dojo was getting progressively more aggressive. you were running down the field when someone called you name, causing you to turn around. the next thing you knew, the soccer ball was flying towards your face. you didn’t have anytime to cover your face, and so you got hit in the face with the ball.

“what the fuck!” you shouted, hands flying up to your nose which was now gushing blood. “y/n!” hawk called from across the field, running over to you. “baby let me see it,” he demanded, pulling your hands away from your face. he removed your hands, and tilted your head back to help stop the flow of blood. “who did this?” hawk asked loudly, glaring at everyone around him. when nobody answered he shouted even louder, “who did it?” this time sam stepped forwards. “it was an accident, i swear,” she rushed, looking nervously between you and hawk.

hawk rolled his eyes at sam, his jaw and fists clenching. “yeah i’m sure it was,” he growled, taking a threatening step towards her. “hawk!” you shouted, but he ignored you. “i-” sam started but she was cut off by hawk. “what? kicking her out of karate wasn’t enough? i get it that you guys don’t like me, but just because we’re together doesn’t mean that you should punish her for it. especially since we’re happy. don’t come near her again!” he finished, and you couldn’t help but swoon. he’s defending my honor. that’s so hot, you thought.

after his conversation with sam, hawk took you to the nurse’s office. she just gave you an ice pack and some paper towels, before sending you back to class. you and hawk were walking to your next class when sam and demetri approached the two of you. “i thought i told you to stay away from her,” hawk said, stepping forward but you stopped him by placing your hand on his chest. hawk huffed, but stayed quiet. it was silent between the four of you, all of you just staring at each other. “was there something you guys needed?” you asked.

demetri cleared his throat. “yeah we were hoping to talk to you. preferably without your boyfriend,” he said and hawk tried to step forward but you stopped him once again. “yeah that’s fine. i’ll see you in class babe,” you answered, kissing hawk’s cheek before shooing him away. once he walked down the hall, and was far enough away from you, you looked towards demetri and sam. “what was it that you wanted to talk about?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“we wanted to invite you back to miyagi-do. it was wrong of us to kick you out,” sam said, not making eye contact with you. you scoffed at her words. “why should i even come back? you guys made it pretty clear that you didn’t want me there,” you said. “that’s because you’re dating hawk of all people!” sam shouted at you, and you glared at her. “sam! we came to make amends not cause more problems!” demetri interjected, glaring at the larusso girl.

“look y/n, i’m sorry, for everything. i know that you really like hawk, and that the two of you are happy together. and,” demetri started, taking a deep breath, “if you’re happy then i’m happy for you. i understand if you don’t want to come back to miyagi-do or even be our friend, but i just want you to know that i’m sorry for everything, nose included.” you smiled at demetri’s apology. “thanks demetri, that means a lot. i don’t think that i’ll come back to karate, but i’d love it if we could try and fix our friendship,” you said, looking at him. “yeah, i’d like that,” demetri answered, a big smile on his face.

the two of you turned to face sam, who remained silent the whole time. “i’m sorry too y/n. i never should’ve kicked you out of miyagi-do for being with hawk, especially since you guys are great together. and i’m sorry for your nose. i’ve been such a bitch to you, and i understand if you don’t accept my apology, but i would like to be friends again,” sam apologized, looking at you shyly. you smiled softly at the girl, “i’d like that.” sam smiled back at you. you all knew that things were going to be different now, and this isn’t something that you were just going to forgive and forget, but you were all willing to make amends and that’s all that matters.

you walked into your next class, taking your seat next to hawk, with a smile on your face. “everything okay?” he asked, looking you over. “everything’s perfect,” you answered, kissing him softly.

#hawk cobra kai #hawk cobra kai x reader #hawk cobra kai imagine #eli moskowitz #eli moskowitz x reader #eli moskowitz imagine #hawk imagine #hawk x reader #cobra kai x reader #cobra kai imagine #cobra kai #cobrakaisb writing

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darling-i-read-it · 3 years ago

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Jealousy

Will Graham x reader, slight Hannibal Lecter x reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: talks of murder, corpses, crime scenes

Author’s Note: besties you need to stop giving me freedom to chose the endings because i am SO biased. I hope you all enjoy regardless and didn’t mind that I bunched these two requests together because they’re so similar!

Requested: by anon, Hey i don’t know if you’re still taking Hannibal requests but if you are can you do something where both Will and Hannibal have a crush on the reader? The reader would be the only one who doesn’t know about the two men having a crush on her and one day the reader hangs out alone with one of them (could be Will or Hannibal) and the other gets jealous? It could end in the reader choosing one of them. (your choice)

Requested: by anon, AHHH i��m so nervous to write a request even tho this a anon😅 I never done a request but if you could do something where both Hannibal and Will take an interest in the reader? It could just be a thing where both of them try to impress the reader who remains oblivious to their affections. And during the entire thing they get jealous of each other and try to one up each other in gifts. If you want you could end it with them being polyamorous or the reader choosing one of them, i don’t really care my main focus id just the jealousy lol😅

Summary: the requests!

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

You nodded gently, putting your fingernail between your teeth. You circled the corpse, giving it a careful eye as Beverly spoke over your thoughts.

“We believe it was murder, obviously,” she said.

“It’s just been a bitch trying to figure out how she was murdered,” Zeller commented. He was sitting on one of the stools, his hands resting on his thighs.

“Keep working on it,” Jack said, hand resting on the cold metal table.

“I think we should try and talk to the mom again. I feel like she knows more than she’s letting on,” you muttered. Will and Hannibal watched you as you moved to the head of the body, looking directly down at it.

“I want to go to the crime scene again,” Will said. You looked up and met his eyes, nodding a bit. You knew the toll that it took on him so you preferred him to offer up his abilities, rather than ask him.

“Are you sure you’re up for that?” Hannibal asked. Yours and Will’s eyes floated to Hannibal who was standing at the corner of the room. This wasn’t his crime, he wasn’t sure what Will would find.

“I’m sure,” Will said sturtly and then turned around, walking out of the room. Hannibal watched as your gaze followed Will until he was out of sight and then you turned back to the corpse.

“I’ll drive you to the mothers house,” Hannibal suggested. You nodded and took your hands off the metal, walking over to him.

“Thank you.”

The two of you left quickly after that, leaving Bev, Zeller, Price and Jack in the room alone. Beverly pretended to check something on her clipboard before looking up at everyone.

“You all felt that tension too, right?” Overlapped responses came.

“Yeah.”

“Yes.”

“When did that happen?”

Beverly shrugged and learned against the wall. She tried to follow you and Hannibal as you left the morgue but you were already long gone.

“Who do you think she’s gonna pick?” Bev asked.

“I say let the best man win!” Price commented.

“We have a case here lady and gentlemen,” Jack said, pretending he too wasn’t invested. Everyone else shared one more look and then turned around, getting back to their duties.

=====

Hannibal sat promptly in his chair, legs crossed and looking at Will who sat across from him. Will had an open stance as he looked around the room he had been in a couple of times before.

“How was your week? Let’s start there,” Hannibal said gently, prompting Will to start talking. Will was usually filled to the brim with sarcastic comments but he never wanted to delve any deeper than that. Unless he was talking about other people's murders.

“Um, it was fine,” he said, trying to figure out what to say. “Y/N came over last night and made dinner. It was nice to have someone over.” Hannibal was able to mask his feelings very well but Will caught a little bit of disdain.

“That’s nice. Do you see her often?”

“Sometimes. She’s nice and likes to see the dogs.” Hannibal saw you yesterday as well, when the two of you went to interview the mother again. Hannibal offered a nice face to the woman and it ended up getting you somewhere with her.

“She is very kind,” Hannibal commented.

“Do you see her often Dr. Lecter?” Will asked.

“On occasion. She comes over for dinner. She used to be a patient but she’s been doing well.”

“Glad to hear you have some success stories.”

That was the day that Will and Hannibal realized they were competing and they hadn’t known it. They weren’t even sure that you knew it but they understood that the other had feelings for you.

Sure, ultimately it was up to you in the end but it was then they decided they would have to get to you first. Will was a little unhinged and confused. Hannibal was a little insane and unsettling.

Just depended on who was going to be able to play the right cards.

=====

You sat beside Hanniabl at his dinner table. You had a few of the case papers out in front of you, next to your plate of food. Hannibal was flipping through them as well. He was trying to help you out while also getting you to enjoy a nice meal.

You ate the last bite of the food and showed Hannibal one of the pictures.

“Do you think this looks like she’s been dead for a couple of months? I know water can wash away evidence and stuff but it definitely doesn’t look like she’s been dead for months,” you said. Hannibal took the picture from you and looked it over.

“I can’t say I disagree with you.” You took the picture back.

“This is really good by the way. Thank you for letting me intrude on your dinner,” you said laughing a bit. He shook his head.

“Of course. I’m glad you enjoy it, I know it can be an acquired taste.”

“I really enjoy everything you make. How do you say it? It’s growing my pallet,” you said smiling. He nodded pleasantly. It was always nice to make sure people were listening. You looked like you were about to say something else when your phone dinged. At first you ignored it but then it dinged again. “I’m sorry,” you muttered and then picked up the phone. You read a couple of messages and laughter bubbled from your mouth. Hannibal immediately felt a stab of jealousy but it didn’t show on his face. “Sorry, Will just sent me something about the case. I actually have to go see him later tonight, I should probably get out of your hair.”

Hannibal shook his head.

“You’re always welcome here, I hope you know that.” You smiled and nodded but still put the papers together in a neat stack.

“Don’t say that, I’ll abuse my privileges.” You stood up and put the stack of papers in your arms. “Thank you again Hannibal. I’ll call you?” He nodded, standing up as well and taking your plate.

“Of course. Have a nice night and say hello to Will for me.” You nodded and waved as you turned to leave.

Hannibal turned to the kitchen and put the dishes in the sink. He started to wash them and after a moment he found he had been washing his hands dry.

====

“You really didn’t have to drive me. I can drive myself,” Will said from the passenger seat of your car. You waved him off, shaking your head.

“Please Will, I can drive you around all I want. Plus, I wanted to see Hannibal anyway. Don’t worry I won’t intrude on your session. I brought a book.” You held your book up in front of him and he nodded slightly.

Why did you wanna see Hannibal? He decided not to ask.

You got out of the car and followed Will inside to Hannibal’s office. Hannibal opened the door, as though he had been listening and waiting for your arrival. His smile grew at the sight of you.

“I was hoping to run into you. I boxed some leftovers from last night because you enjoyed them so much,” Hannibal explained.

“You went over to Hannibals’ last night?” Will asked. He didn’t mean for his voice to sound so accusatory but it did. You shrugged.

“I went for dinner and he helped me with some case notes.” You remained completely oblivious to the tension in the room. He handed you a box that he grabbed from his desk and you nodded happily. “Thank you so much! I will cherish this,” you joked. You turned to Will. “Have a nice session boys, I’ll be in the car.”

They both nodded and waved goodbye to you as you left the room. The tension did not leave with you.

====

The morgue did not smell any better the next time you were in it. You were alone with just Bev this time as you compared notes on the cause of death. She and the guys were still in the process of figuring it out but it had been a busy couple of days.

“Yeah that’s kind of what Price was saying. I don’t know, I’ll look into it more and get back to you,” she said as you showed her some notes. You nodded and put your notepad back in your bag.

“Alright, keep me posted.” You stood up from your chair and stretched a bit. You and Beverly were pretty good friends outside of work as well so she had been dying to ask you about Hannibal and Will.

“So...how’s it going with Hannibal and Will?” she asked, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall. You gave her a confused look.

“Huh?” She scoffed.

“You’re kidding right?” You gave her a look and she laughed dryly. “You seriously don’t know? Those guys are head over heels for you. Come on, you had to have noticed how jealous they get when you talk to them. It literally fills the room with tension,” she explained. You shook your head slowly. It took you a moment but the realization hit you. You had to sit back down.

“Oh my God, I’ve been so head first in this case I didn’t even notice,” you said, laughing a bit.

“Well! Who’s gonna take the cake? Come on, we’re running bets here in the morgue.” You raised an eyebrow.

“Who did you bet on?” She gave you a look. “Come on!”

“Will,” she fessed up. You stood up.

“Go get your money Katz.” A prideful look went over her face and she nodded.

“Alright then. You better go get your man.”

======

You knocked on Will’s door that night. You teetered back and forth on the porch, wondering if Beverly had been wrong. She could have read the signs wrong. Heck, you read the signs wrong at first. You were about to walk off the porch when Will opened the door, rubbing his eyes.

“Hi,” he said, blinking quickly.

“Oh my gosh did I wake you? I’m sorry, I am running on case time,” you said, suddenly feeling very apologetic. He shook his head.

“No, don’t worry about it. Do you need something?” You doubted yourself again but figured that if you were going to do it you had to do it now.

“I just...Beverly said something and I...do you wanna go to dinner? Like together? Like as a couple?” You were trying to get the words out so they didn’t sound awkward. Will rubbed his eyes some more and then his hand dropped. He smirked a bit.

“Yeah. I would really like that.”

“Okay! Okay. Good, good. I’ll talk to you about it tomorrow once you get some rest,” you said. He nodded happily.

“I look forward to it.”

“Me too.”

You turned around and he shut the door and a wall away from each other. You were both smiling wildly. Will almost called Hannibal and bragged but he went to sleep. He would find out eventually.

#will graham x reader #will graham imagines #hannibal lecter imagines #hannibal imagines

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keanureevesisbae · 3 years ago

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But professor… - c.9

Summary: Walter and Penny can almost welcome their kid, however Penny starts to become very anxious

Professor!Walter Marshall x Penny Townsend (Asian ofc)

Wordcount: 2.3k

Warnings: Just mentions of punching people

Masterlist // But professor… masterlist // Previous chapter //

I’m thirty weeks pregnant and I know that I have around eight to ten weeks to go, however, this pregnancy has been pretty straining on my back, my pelvis and basically my entire body. Moving around is painful and my mom is over at our place a lot of the time to help me out. I’m thanking the heavens that I am not doing cosmetology school now as well, knowing for a fact that I probably couldn’t keep up at all.

If I’m not sitting on the couch reading, I’m crying because I am sitting in the nursery and think about having a little baby and all the bad things that could happen to them.

Walter is drained from a rough day of patrolling and he plops next to me on the couch. Just like any other day, I barely moved, however he still asks me the question.

‘How was your day, princess?’

‘Boring,’ I mumble. ‘How was yours?’

He simply shrugs, probably because something happened and he doesn’t want me to worry. I rest my head against his chest and without thinking it seems, he places his hand on my stomach. ‘Have they been good to you?’ he asks

‘They sure have been,’ I chuckle. ‘Just hate the fact that I’m practically glued to the couch.’

Walter nods, pressing a kiss on top of my head. I know he worries a lot and therefore confides to my mom, asking her what more he can do to help me out. Walter is being the perfect boyfriend, because even my mom said that he is doing literally all he can to help me out. One night I found him scrolling and searching for tricks to ease the pain and discomfort, though he never lets me in on it.

‘If you’re up for it, we could have dinner,’ he says, ‘somewhere other than our living room.’

‘Where do you want to go?’

‘I don’t know what you’re craving. I’m up for anything.’

‘Pizza?’ I ask. ‘I would really love a Hawaiian Pizza.’

Walter frowns for a second—probably remembering how I told him multiple times that I hate pineapple on pizza—but then he nods. ‘Of course, princess.’

✎ ✎ ✎

We’re sitting at a restaurant across from each other and it’s nice to be out and about again. I mean, I go to town with my parents a lot, I hang out with the ladies from the pregnancy class, but going out with Walter has been a while, especially because he has been working long hours and I’m tired after one trip to anywhere basically.

Walter actually stretched out his leg underneath the table, towards my side, so I can rest my feet on it. Every time I have a crust left, I hand it over to him and with a small smile he accepts them. ‘So,’ I say, ‘I’ve been thinking about a name.’

‘Tell me.’

‘I would say that for a girl we could call her Emma.’

Walter tilts his head. ‘Emma Marshall, sounds cute,’ he says with a smile. ‘You have a name for when it’s a boy?’

I shrug. ‘I don’t know. I actually think they’re a girl.’

He starts to laugh. ‘Why do you think that, princess?’

‘Just a gut feeling,’ I chuckle. ‘What do you think?’

‘I have no idea,’ he says, holding out his hand for me to take. When I placed mine in his, he adds: ‘I actually have a name for a boy. Wanna hear?’

‘Always.’

‘Declan.’

Oh, that’s a lovely name. I don’t think I even know someone who is named Declan. ‘Declan Marshall. That sounds so cute. I absolutely adore it, Walter.’

Walter smiles and gives me a kiss on my hand. ‘We’ll see how we name them.’

‘Yeah,’ I chuckle. ‘Just around ten weeks or less,’ I say. ‘Kinda nervous.’

‘Why’s that?’

‘It’s giving birth, Walter. That’s scary. All these other ladies are so confident and proud of what their bodies can do and all. I mean, sure, that’s awesome, but it also terrifies me.’

‘Understandable,’ he says. ‘I’ll be there for you, every step of the way.’

‘I know,’ I chuckle. ‘It’s just that… I don’t know. With being pregnant, it’s just all a fantasy. With a newborn, it’s the real deal.’

Walter nods, taking in my worries. ‘Well,’ he says, ‘you and I can manage.’

‘You’re being awfully nonchalant about it.’

‘That’s because I need to stay calm for you. Believe me, princess, I’m freaking out on the inside.’

I frown, because that’s the first time he actually told me those words. Usually he says that he cannot wait for this baby to arrive, though it is a little scary every now and then, but saying he is freaking out?

That’s new.

‘What?’ I ask him. ‘Are you serious?’

He nods. ‘I mean, being a parent is difficult. Growing up I didn’t have the love and support I needed. I basically raised myself and judging from the person I am today, I didn’t really do a good job.’

‘You did an excellent job,’ I retort. I know about his youth and how he had to raise himself, how you can still notice it in his day to day life. ‘Walter, please tell me about your worries. You don’t always need to be the protective big bear who prevents me from any harm. I’m a big girl and I need you to confide with me. Please?’

He sighs as he is looking everywhere but to me. This is hard, I can see it, but from the looks of it, he is gonna agree with me. ‘Okay, I’ll try.’

✎ ✎ ✎

Dinner ended not so great. As we were walking back from the restaurant to our car, two guys thought it was necessary to whistle at me (I didn’t even notice at first, but then Walter’s entire demeanor changed, so that’s how I was informed about the matter).

Let’s just say, it evolved into an argument and then one of the guys thought it was an excellent idea to push Walter. I applaud him for having the guts to push my boyfriend, but it was honestly one of the stupidest things for him to do, because Walter wouldn’t be Walter if he punched the guy and his friend.

Multiple times.

I have been ignoring him for the entire drive and once we’re home, I still don’t know what to say to him.

‘Princess,’ he whispers, carefully trying to approach me as I’m sitting on the edge of the bed in his shirt. ‘Please talk to me.’

I purse my lips together, as tears burn in my eyes.

He sits behind me, placing his hands on my upper arms. ‘I’m sorry,’ he says.

‘Sorry for what?’

‘For scaring you. I was just protecting you, darling.’

‘What’s wrong with just ignoring the matter, Walter?’ I ask him, turning to the side so I can look at him without craning my neck. ‘You scared me back there.’

‘I’m not gonna let some dip shit whistle at you, especially not when I’m next to you,’ he defends himself.

‘You’re an officer,’ I tell him. ‘I don’t think this is proper behavior.’

‘I wasn’t gonna let anything happen to you,’ Walter retorts.

‘That’s not the point. The point is you put yourself in danger.’

‘Hardly.’

I glare at him. ‘I don’t like this,’ I say. ‘Have you any idea how stressful it was for me? You know what, never mind. I’m going to sleep.’

He scoots back and I wrap my arms around the pregnancy pillow, with my back towards him. I love Walter, I really do, but this… I saw it all unfolding in front of my eyes.

It would start with an argument, some light pushing, until the other guys would pull out a knife, stab Walter, which would result in a trip to the hospital. Possibility of death. Me having to bury the father of my child.

I push my face in the soft fabric of the pillow, as hot tears slide over my cheeks. Walter sighs deeply next to me and starts to toss and turn next to me. His leg bumps into mine and it causes him to hold his breath. ‘Sorry, Penny,’ he says.

I dry my cheeks on the pillow. ‘Walter,’ I whisper, ‘you know I worry when you go to work.’

‘I know,’ he says, ‘but you don’t need to.’

‘You’re gonna be the father of our kid,’ I continue, ‘and I’d like to raise them with you, not in memory of you.’

‘Princess,’ he whispers, ‘we’re gonna raise this kid and eventual others together. You know, before I met you, I was an adrenaline junkie, detective or not. I got into a lot of shit, hence the reason I was suspended and started teaching. You, my love, made me realize that chasing danger like I used to, is not gonna get me further in life. Now I have you, I have the love of my life here with me and I’m never ever gonna do anything that’ll put me or you or our child in danger.’

‘Then why did you punch him?’

‘Because he started it,’ Walter says, only for him to realize how toddler like that sounds. ‘I just want to protect you against anyone,’ he says in a softer tone. ‘Because I love you, Penelope Townsend. You are my everything.’ He wraps his arm around my upper body, pressing a kiss against my temple. ‘I’m sorry I scared you, Penny. I never meant to do such thing.’

‘I know,’ I whisper. ‘Sorry for overreacting.’

‘No, no, no, you’re not overreacting. Maybe I was.’ He pulls me closer to his own body and places his hand on my stomach. ‘Just know that I will forever protect you and the baby.’

I chuckle. ‘I know that. Promise me you won’t do anything stupid anymore, not when I’m around at least.’

He smiles. ‘I’ll tone it down a notch, princess.’

✎ ✎ ✎

‘Is that that colosseum thing you were talking about?’ Walter gestures towards my chest and I look down, spotting two tiny wet patches near my chest area, before bursting into laughter.

‘Colostrum, Walter, not colosseum.’ Oh dear, he is totally blushing, because of his mistake. ‘Can you grab me another shirt?’

I barely asked the question, when he jumps up and rushes upstairs. I rub my stomach a little bit, slightly scared at how much it expanded. I’m close to the end of my pregnancy, having reached thirty nine weeks yesterday. I wonder how it’ll ever go back to normal.

Walter comes down again and without me asking he changes my shirt. ‘Have I told you I loved you today?’

‘A few times.’ I give him a kiss and whisper: ‘I’m proud of you.’

He frowns. ‘Why are you proud of me? You’re the one growing an entire baby here.’ He carefully places his hands on the side of my stomach. ‘The least I can do is to make things as comfortable for you as possible.’

‘But you always do it without complaining,’ I say. ‘I heard that Stacey’s husband is such a pain in the ass. Always complaining, groaning about how much he has to do nowadays.’

Walter scoffs. ‘Well, pregnant or not, I’d like to worship you, make your life as easy as I possibly can.’ He gives me a kiss. ‘What can I do for you, darling?’

‘Sex,’ I say, before I curl my lips in. Oh gosh, never have I been so straight forward. My cheeks heat up. ‘No, please, forget what I said.’

‘Is my girl asking me for sex?’ Walter starts to laugh. ‘The day Penny Townsend asked me for sex has finally arrived.’

‘I’m sorry,’ I laugh nervously. ‘It’s just been awhile.’ Awhile equals three months. I hate how he sometimes initiates, but I simply shake my head. It’s a combination of a very low sex drive, not feeling pretty and being in pain nearly twenty four seven.

He leans forward and kisses me. ‘Want to go to the bedroom, princess or is the couch acceptable as well?’

‘We can stay here,’ I whisper.

‘Then let me close the curtains and lock the door, okay?’

‘Okay,’ I mumble.

When he comes back, he takes off his shirt, so I can admire his beautiful strong body. There is something so special about Walter. He looks strong enough to left a car up with one arm, but he is a mushy man the second the front door closes and we’re together. He kneels in front of me, pressing open mouth kisses on my lips. ‘Shit, I love you,’ he says against my mouth. He disregards my shirt and admires me.

‘Stop,’ I say, rolling my eyes.

‘No, no, no, I could never stop admiring you.’ He places his hands on my expanded stomach and says: ‘You’re so beautiful.’

He gives me a long kiss and then I whimper. Not out of pleasure, but out of shock.

‘What’s wrong?’ he asks me.

‘I think my water broke.’

✎ ✎ ✎

Twelve hours later, I am looking at Walter, who holds the little baby in his strong arms. He sits next to me on the bed and wraps one arm around my shoulders. ‘Penny, princess,’ he says, ‘I don’t think words can describe how proud I am of you and how much I love you.’

I nuzzle my face in his chest. ‘I love you too. Thank you for not freaking out.’

‘Externally freaking out you mean, because on the inside I was fainting,’ he chuckles. He gives me a kiss on my temple. ‘I’m a dad.’

I actually see some tears in his eyes and I cannot stop my own either. ‘I know.’ I place my hand on the little bundle and whisper: ‘We’re officially parents. It’s so surreal.’ I let out a deep and content sigh.

The little baby opens their eyes and I cannot stop my smile.

‘Hi, little one,’ Walter says. ‘Oh no, Penny, we’ve created an exact copy of yours.’

I chuckle. ‘Good luck saying no to him,’ I say. ‘We love you so much, Declan Marshall. So so much.’

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #walter marshall #henry cavill x you #walter marshall x penny townsend #walter marshall x asian ofc #walter marshall x ofc #walter marshall x oc #asian ofc #penny townsend #but professor

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ssahoodrathotchner · 4 years ago

Text

There is a Light That Never Goes Out

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Summary: you get kidnapped by an unsub and needless to say, it’s not fun

Word Count: 6.9k

Warnings: swearing, blood, injuries, stabbing, panic attacks, kidnapping, hospitals, angst and fluff

A/N: wanted to write something angsty with a happy ending and here we are! the longest thing i’ve ever written

Masterlist

---

In hindsight, things could have gone better. The case itself was pretty straightforward, with the biggest complication being where the hell Michael Robertson was hidden away. However, no man can hide from Penelope Garcia and within six hours of figuring out Robertson was the unsub, she had his location narrowed down to a small farm in the middle of nowhere. Of course, you thought, where else would a guy like him torture and kill seven women.

Pulling up to the seemingly small farmhouse, you and Reid exchange looks before tightening your bulletproof vests. Double—triple—checking your gun, you tune in to Hotch and Rossi giving directions to the team and local PD about breaching the home. Hotch and Prentiss will take the front door, Morgan and Reid the back, while Rossi and JJ have the barn—you’ll take the side door and meet in the middle, easy. Local PD will secure the perimeter and provide backup as needed. Giving Hotch a reaffirming nod, you disperse to your entry points.

Taking a deep breath, you raise your weapon and prepare to bust this door down in hopes that Robertson will surrender peacefully and you can all go home because fuck do you want to get out of Iowa. Hearing Hotch’s signal, you kick down the door in front of you—a welcome plus of your job—and announce your presence. However, you’re met with a hard elbow to the face. Reeling backwards and tasting blood, you only have the sense to cup your now bleeding—and most likely broken—nose with your free hand.

“Motherfucker,” you spit out in pain, the comms in your vest picking up your voice.

“Y/L/N, report,” Hotch demands, voice scratchy through your earpiece.

However, you are unable to respond as Robertson moves towards you and, taking advantage of your dazed state, hits you over the head with a fucking two-by-four once, twice, nope three times before the jagged wood floor is rushing up to meet you as you collapse into darkness. Oh, fuck. You’re out before you hit the ground.

---

As soon as Aaron hears you swear, he knows it’s bad, but one look at Emily has him forging ahead and clearing each room like he is supposed to. Checking in with the other duos, Hotch can’t help but worry when you don’t respond immediately. When he finally gets to the mid-point of the house and the exact spot where you were supposed to rendezvous with him, Emily, Derek, and Spencer, his worries spike exponentially.

“Where’s Y/L/N,” he spits out.

“We didn’t see her,” Morgan answers carefully. “We assumed she found you guys,” he adds, and Hotch grits his teeth.

“Clear in the barn,” he hears Rossi report, and he sighs.

“Y/L/N is missing,” he says, surprisingly calm. “Report to the house.”

Police officers shuffle through the house, and Aaron tries not to let his irritation show. Turning back to the team, he can’t help but notice how worried the rest of them are.

“Our one and only priority is finding Y/N,” he states.

“I’ll get Garcia onboard to coordinate what happens next,” Morgan says, excusing himself from the tension of the farm house sitting room. “Expect some very distressed calls in your futures,” he finishes with a shake of his head.

“Emily and I will re-check the rest of the house, just in case,” JJ supplies, and Hotch nods. Reid, looking uneasy, makes some excuse about double-checking the floor plans of the property before skirting out the door, leaving Dave and Aaron—and some police officers—to survey the bland artwork on the walls.

Grasping the bridge of his nose, Aaron tries to take a deep breath, but he can’t; not with you missing on the property owned by an unsub fucking known for mutilating women.

“Hey,” Rossi approaches from Hotch’s left. “We’ll figure this out. Y/L/N’s a smart girl; she won’t go down easy,”

Hotch can only hope that Rossi’s right, but he trusts you; trusts your instincts as an agent.

---

You come to in bits and pieces. Some part of your brain recognizes that you’re being dragged by your armpits down some rickety stairs and deep into the earth; another part recognizes that your hands are free, which means your gun is no longer in your grasp. Fuck fuck fuck. A particularly harsh blow to your head from the hands of your captor stops any further thoughts. Fuck you, Robertson.

---

Regrouping with the team outside the house, Hotch starts to get agitated.

“What do you mean there’s an elaborate tunnel system beneath the house, Garcia,” he almost yells. “How did you not catch this before.”

“Well,” Reid steps in, “the only plans that include this system are dated between 1910 and 1924 which means that they were built in at least the 1900s and the fact that they do not appear in any property plans since those dates suggests that the subsequent owners either didn’t know about the tunnels, or they actively chose to not include them for some reason which—”

“—which means that we don’t really have a clue as to what the current tunnels look like,” Morgan finishes for him, and Hotch internally blanches.

No, he thinks to himself. I will not lose her like this, not after Haley.

Taking a deep breath, Hotch tries to re-assess the situation, but finds himself unable to breathe deeply. At all. Gasping, he tries to communicate to the team the severity of their situation, but all that comes out is a strangled noise. Vaguely, he hears Morgan clear the room as JJ gently takes his upper arm and steers him out the back door of the house on to the porch.

“Hotch,” he can’t stand to listen to her voice; her calm demeanor only increasing his anxiety about your current situation.

“Hotch,” JJ tries again, harsher this time. “I need you to take a breath; only one, just now, that’s it.”

I can do that, he thinks. And he does; he takes one solitary breath.

“Good,” she encourages, “now do it again, just once.” And so he does, again, and again, for JJ.

Once his breathing is under control and JJ steps back with an appraising eye, he speaks.

“We need to find her,” he gasps out. “We have to; I can’t—” he trails off.

With a softness he has yet to comprehend, JJ looks into his eyes and sighs.

“We’ll find her, Hotch,” she reassures him. “She’s on the property, she has to be, and we’ll find her.”

With a shaky nod, Hotch allows JJ’s words to take hold of him, and he goes back to being the BAU’s Unit Chief. Gazing out on the field behind the house, his resolve is firm; Aaron Hotchner will find you, Michael Robertson be damned.

---

The next moment you remember—thanks broken nose and probable concussion—is your body being roughly thrown into a plastic chair, sans bullet-proof vest, and then your arms and legs being tightly tied down. A rag of some sort is crudely stuffed into your mouth, and you can’t help but gag because fuck does it do nothing to replace the gross taste of blood in your mouth. At least it’s me, you think to yourself, I’d hate to think of anyone else from the team in this position. And with that thought, you drift out of consciousness with Aaron’s face in the forefront of your addled mind. Love, I hope you find me soon.

---

It’s been three hours and Aaron Hotchner is losing his mind. Garcia, to her credit, is working furiously to uncover literally everything she can on Robertson, his family, friends as well as the closest neighboring farms to the one the BAU is currently ripping apart. Prentiss and Morgan have taken to meticulously going through each and every room of the house and barn in hopes of discovering some new and hidden passageway to the tunnel system that resides under the structure. Reid is creating an enhanced geographical profile of the property and those that encompass it, while JJ and Rossi discuss the nuances of Robertson’s profile somewhere with the local cops. Aaron, however, can only seem to scowl at the field of corn behind the house and remember the last moments he had with you before you disappeared.

“Hotch,” he turns when he hears Morgan’s voice. “We’ve got something.”

Heart racing, Hotch nods and follows Morgan out the side door—the one you entered—before stopping just short of the man in front of him.

“Local crime scene techs just confirmed that there’s blood here, and judging from the placement of the drops, it seems that Robertson got the drop on Y/L/N,” he states with a grimace, and Hotch can’t help but scrutinize the ground where your blood has fallen.

“Reid’s got a better handle on what might have happened, but I thought you’d like to see it for yourself,” Morgan finishes, and Hotch nods tightly before moving off in search of Reid. Finding the young profiler in the front room of the farm house, Hotch only has to look at him before he’s revealing all that he’s learned since your disappearance.

“It seems that the blueprints for the house were updated once since the 1920s, which was in 1953, so that’s our most recent map of what the whole underside of the property looks like,” Reid continues. “From what I can tell, there are at least five entrance points, three main walkways, and eight different chambers that appear to function as some form of bunker for the previous owners, and so my guess is that Y/N is being kept in one of the rooms, just like the previous victims most likely were,” Reid pauses. “Not that Y/N will become another victim, I’m just saying that for the sake of the case it appears that—” Emily enters the room and Hotch has never been so grateful for her presence in a room, ever.

“Hey, I don’t mean to disrupt Reid’s briefing, but local PD has found a possible way into the fuckin’ labyrinth out in the barn,” she states, curiously looking over at the map Reid has scribbled onto the property blueprints.

Turning his head sharply, Hotch nods at Prentiss and uncrosses his arms as she leads him out of the farm house as Reid continues to ponder the blueprints in front of him.

---

The next time you rise to consciousness, Robertson is dragging an ugly hunting knife across your collarbones, shoulder to shoulder, and cooing at you to wake up. Weirdo.

“Ah, there you are baby,” Robertson says sweetly. “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t wake up for me.”

You let out a groan and through the gag in your mouth—holy fuck does it taste like dirty socks—you attempt to cuss out your captor.

“Now, now, Sweetness,” Robertson chides. “Let’s have some fun, shall we?” and with that terrifying statement, he leans closer to you and pulls the knife across your left shoulder, effectively slicing open your work shirt. Damn, you think to yourself, this was actually one of my favorites. But that’s the last coherent thought you produce because the combination of Robertson’s knife, the searing pain of your broken nose, and your own possibly concussed brain are unable to completely comprehend any more information as the man in question leaves light slices across your upper chest. Thankfully, the rag—sock? —in your mouth muffles your whimpers as you jolt in pain. Aaron, please find me soon you think before the feeling is all-encompassing and your mind shifts to merciful blankness.

---

“I wish I could do more,” Garcia states, but Hotch can only sigh in agreement.

“You’ve done well, Garcia. Let me know if you find anything else,” Hotch states, eyes darting over to the geographical profile Reid is standing in front of, conversing with Emily. The tunnel found by local PD had been a decoy, and they were no closer to finding you.

“Of course, Sir. I’m on it like Sergio on tuna. Garcia out,” and with that statement, the line goes dead.

Putting his phone in his pocket, Hotch walks towards Reid and Prentiss with purpose.

“Reid, have you found anything else about the tunnel system?”

“It appears that there are a series of false entrances that don’t actually connect with the full network of passageways,” Reid states gesturing wildly at the map. “The full system can only be accessed from four different vantage points, but given that this map hasn’t been updated since the 50s, I only have a general idea of where the entryways are given that the buildings on the property have shifted since the last accurate map was compiled.”

“The good news is that two of the entrances seem to be contained within this house, the bad news is that they may have been bricked over by renovations to the building,” Prentiss says with a grimace. “The other two entries are somewhere out in what’s now the fields, so we’ll have less luck finding them, even with all the extra help from the PD.”

Hotch’s shoulders sag under the weight of the new information and he frowns at the agents in front of him. Squinting hard at the blueprints haphazardly tacked to the board in front of him, Hotch tries to make sense of the possible entry points in the house he’s currently standing in.

“Get Morgan in here,” Hotch finally says. “He’s got experience with restoration work and may have a better idea on where the unsub could have taken Y/N from within the house given the structural changes.” And with that, Hotch strides out the front door of the house and leans on the porch railing. Y/N, I’m coming for you, just hold on a little longer.

---

Robertson is a bitch. And he has the knife to prove it.

“So, you’re impotent, that’s why you’re using such a big knife, right?” you taunt him after who knows how fuckin’ long. “You see, we thought you had, mmm, issues, but we didn’t know for sure; this just confirms it.”

He took the gag out of your mouth to hear you scream, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of doing so. However, instead of responding to your jabs, Robertson just drives the knife a little bit deeper into your torso and you let out a hiss in retaliation, throwing your head back.

“God, you sure know how to treat a girl, don’t ya?” you grit out between pained breaths. “No wonder a charmer like you had so many lady friends.”

“They didn’t appreciate me!” Robertson yells. “Just like you don’t appreciate me!”

The next slash glances off your ribs and yikes does it fuckin’ hurt. Jerking away as best you can, you contemplate your options. At this point, you know your only way out is to either escape—as if—or to make Robertson see some semblance of reason. Otherwise, you aren’t going to make it out of here alive. Fuck, you think, I’m so sorry, Aaron. I promise I’ll find you. Or you’ll find me. A particularly vicious cut to your cheekbone draws you back to reality, and once again, you are only able to focus on the pain and Robertson’s maniacal laughter. Creepy motherfucker.

---

Hotch has never seen Morgan so focused. Scouring the blueprints with Reid and Prentiss, Garcia on speakerphone, Morgan works to figure out where the hell Robertson could have disappeared to inside the house. With you. Hotch has taken to pacing the length of the house in order to keep his nerves and his temper somewhat under control; he needs to be alert and ready to get to you as soon as possible. Running a hand through his hair and over his face, Hotch sighs which draws the attention of Rossi and JJ who slowly drift over to him from their place by a window.

“Hotch—” JJ starts but is cut off by a hard look.

“We’ll find her, Aaron.” Rossi tries. “You know that she’s here somewhere, probably giving Robertson all sorts of hell.”

“We’ve seen what Robertson does to his victims, Dave,” Hotch retorts. “He basically slices women to pieces and beats them,” taking a breath, he tries to calm himself. “We need to find her alive,” he finishes softly.

JJ and Rossi share a concerned look before Rossi sighs and steps forward to place a hand on Hotch’s shoulder.

“We’ll find her. There’s no way—” he’s cut off by an excited yell and the three of them swing around towards the source of the noise which happens to be Prentiss.

Morgan’s already moving, stalking into another room and Reid, accompanied by Garcia on the phone, hurries to catch up.

“We found the door Robertson most likely used to take Y/L/N and we’re pretty sure it connects to the full system under the property,” Prentiss explains and that’s all it takes for Hotch to stride off after Morgan and Reid.

Head spinning, Aaron fluctuates between hope and hopelessness. He knows they’ll find you; Robertson can’t hide in the tunnel system, no matter how well he knows them, but he’s most worried about you. We’re coming for you, Y/N. I won’t let this bastard get away with this.

---

Your whole body fucking hurts and you’re pretty sure it’s not just because you started off your captivity with a broken nose and concussion. Your mouth tastes like blood again from how hard you’ve clamped down on your bottom lip to resist screaming as loud as you can. Robertson is cruel, there’s no question about that. You’d seen the photos of his other victims, and now you were undergoing the same things those women did in their last moments. Your entire body feels heavy, and if you weren’t tied down to a chair, you don’t think you’d be able to hold yourself up. Between the blood loss and head trauma, you’re surprised your thoughts are still relatively coherent.

Robertson is pacing in front of you, muttering to himself, shooting looks your way, and absentmindedly gesturing with the knife in his hand. Fantastic, you think hazily, he’s most likely devolving and I’m the only one around. Yay. Sucking in a breath, you wince as the action reignites a dizzying pain in your torso. Letting out a groan, you flinch as Robertson turns towards you, eyes shining with something that makes your heart race a little quicker.  

“Now, baby,” he states with a twisted grin—grimace? —that makes you grit your teeth even harder. “I’m not done with you yet, don’t worry. I still wanna hear you scream for me.”

Here we go again.

“Do your worst,” you snarl at him, and while that’s probably the worst thing to say to a devolving unsub, you’re too fed up and tired to care at this point; you can take it, you have to take it so you can survive. C’mon, Aaron. Where’s my knight in shining armor? Robertson descends on you with renewed vigor, and after the fourth slice to your leg, your ears rush and your head drops to your chest as you pass out. Fuck.

---

The trap door Robertson dragged you down can only be accessed by sliding one of the wooden floorboards back half an inch before it clicks into place and the adjoining boards lift slightly, revealing the way into the tunnels. How Morgan, Reid, and Prentiss figured that out is beyond Hotch’s current thought process because how many times had he paced over that exact spot? As soon as the hatch is lifted, all he sees is blood—your blood—sprinkled on the steps that descend into the darkened passageway. He takes a sharp breath and somewhere behind him, he can hear JJ gasp and Morgan swear.

“Medics are on stand-by,” comes Rossi’s voice from his shoulder.

Nodding tersely and setting his shoulders, he turns to the team.

“Stay alert and stick together. We don’t know where Robertson is, so clear the rooms and move on.” His voice is hard and leaves no room for debate.

“Let’s go get our girl,” Morgan adds, and with that, the team takes careful steps down into the hallway, following Aaron.

---

The first room they happen across is empty, as are the second, third, and fourth rooms. Forging ahead, knowing that they’re only closer to where you are, they continue. Turning a corner, Hotch can hear movement and his heart speeds up. Robertson. Signaling to the team to pause, he gauges the best course of action. He doesn’t know what state you’re in, or Robertson for that matter, and so he has to approach the situation with caution. Gun in hand and stepping to one side of the door, he lets Morgan and Prentiss move to the other. Backed by JJ, Reid, and Rossi, Hotch nods and Morgan kicks down the door before moving quickly inside, yelling at Robertson. Prentiss follows him and then Hotch steps through and freezes.

Robertson is crouched over your crumpled and bloody body looking wild-eyed at the agents in front of him. Hotch can’t breathe. You aren’t moving.

“She’s mine,” Robertson snarls, brandishing a knife at Morgan as he tries to get closer. “Mine!”

“Okay, Michael,” says Rossi calmly, “Let’s figure this out.”

“No. She’s mine! I’m not done,” Robertson’s reply is harsh, bordering on a yell.

“What do you mean you aren’t done, Michael?” Hotch’s voice is cold and flat. What more could Robertson possibly want?

“She didn’t scream! I need her to scream for me!” and with that, Robertson runs the tip of his blade down your already bloody cheek.

The team is stunned, but then Robertson raises the knife in the air over your chest and—

He falls.

Looking slowly to the right, Hotch sees Prentiss, gun raised, and then to Robertson splayed on the ground, blood pooling under his head. Vaguely, Hotch hears Reid calling for medics and alerting the local officers to what just happened. Morgan’s already at your side, turning you slowly, carefully, gently on to your back, and that’s when Hotch rushes to you, gun holstered.

He doesn’t know what to do with his hands. There’s blood everywhere. Aaron can’t tell if you’re breathing. He chokes back a sob. I’m so sorry, Sweetheart.

“Hotch, she’s alive,” Morgan breathes, and with that, Hotch lets out a sigh of relief and allows himself to fully look at you, blinking a few times to rid his eyes of tears.

Your face is littered with shallow cuts. Your nose is bloody—definitely broken—and there’s already bruising around your eyes. Your shirt is torn and bloodied in so many places, as are your pants. He can see blood leaking slowly multiple places on your thighs, and even more from your arms and midsection. Your eyes are closed.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Hotch presses down on one of the lacerations to your torso, Morgan taking another, and JJ appearing to apply pressure on a cut that’s just a little too close to your femoral artery.

“C’mon, Sweetheart,” his voice shakes. “I need you to open your eyes, Y/N. Have to know you’re okay.”

There’s yelling from down the hallway, medics bustling into the room and taking over. Aaron can’t make himself let go of you, and it takes Rossi’s gentle but firm hand to guide him back and away from you. He can’t stop shaking.

---

You wake, briefly, when you feel yourself being lifted. Squinting, you try to turn your head, as the rest of the world comes crashing back in a wave of sound and movement. Vision blurred, you try and make sense of what’s going on around you.

“She’s awake!” calls a voice from your left, and you can make out the outline of… JJ? They’re here.

You’re shifted around more, and you get the idea that you’re being strapped down to a gurney as medics begin to wheel you out of the hellhole where Robertson held you.

Suddenly, there’s a hand grasping yours, and before your mind can comprehend what’s happening, all you hear is—

“Sweetheart…?” in the most relieved, reverent, adoring, tone you think you’ve ever heard in your life and it’s Aaron holding your hand. He’s here he’s here he’s here. He found me.

“Aaron,” his name leaves you in a sigh. “Y’found me,” you say softly, looking him over.

“Of course, I did, Sweetheart,” he says, just as soft.

“Where’s…?” you don’t want to say his name.

“Dead. Emily shot him,” Aaron answers in a low voice. Good fucking riddance.

You hum and ease back as the gurney jostles you particularly hard. Gritting your teeth, you groan as you head starts to pound even harder. Feeling yourself losing consciousness, you squeeze Aaron’s hand.

“Love you,” and before he can respond, you vision goes black and all is quiet once more.

---

After you get loaded into the nearest ambulance and speed towards the hospital, Rossi confirms that local officers have secured the scene. With not a moment to waste, the team takes off after the ambulance. Morgan calls Garcia to update her on your status and spends a majority of the ride to the hospital convincing her that she doesn’t need to fly over to see you. Hotch stares blankly out the window and replays the entire interaction with Robertson. He saw the damage Robertson did to you—I need her to scream—and can’t help but feel a little bit of pride at the fact that you didn’t give in to Robertson despite the obvious pain you endured.

The SUVs pull up to the hospital, screeching to a halt, before all the doors are thrown open and the team hurries into the lobby. The nurse at the desk looks up to find six disheveled agents crowding around the counter, worry across all of their faces.

“We’re here for Agent Y/L/N, she probably arrived twenty minutes ago,” Hotch states, voice surprisingly calm.

“I can confirm she arrived and that she’s currently being attended to, but I don’t know any more than that at this moment,” the nurse replies, looking at the computer screen.

“Do you know if she’ll be okay?” asks Spencer in a subdued voice.

“The severity of her injuries is yet to be determined, I’m afraid. She has obvious head trauma, numerous lacerations, and possible internal bleeding, but until I get another update, that’s all I can share,” the nurse says with a sad smile.

Nodding, Aaron steps away from the counter. C’mon, Sweetheart.

“Thank you,” comes Rossi’s voice from Hotch’s left, and with that, the team migrates to the largest cluster of chairs where they promptly collapse in exhaustion.

Sitting down heavily, Hotch rests his elbows on his knees and runs a hand over his face. Prentiss drops in to the chair on his left, Rossi settles in on his right. Across from them, Reid and JJ sit on either side of Morgan. Looking down at his hands, Aaron realizes that they still have your blood on them. He glares at them, somehow wishing that if he stares hard enough, it’ll vanish on its own. A hand closes around one of his, and he looks at Emily.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” she says softly, then, louder, “You guys too, Morgan and JJ. Let’s go.”

It’s then that Aaron looks—really looks—and sees that like him, Morgan and JJ have your blood on their hands as well. With a nod, they all stand. Morgan and Hotch walking into the men’s room while Emily follows JJ to keep her company. Mechanically, the two men stand side-by-side and turn on the taps, starting the slow process of washing away the blood that’s dried on them. Glancing to the side, Hotch sees Morgan, brow furrowed in concentration, as he scrubs under his nails.

“Thank you,” he says, stopping his own motions to fully look at Derek, who turns at the sound of his voice.

“For what?” Morgan asks, slightly confused.

“For going over the blueprints with Reid, Prentiss, and Garcia. For figuring out where in the house Y/N had disappeared. For going above and beyond to find her and— “

“Hotch, you don’t have to thank me for that,” Morgan cuts him off. “I will do everything in my power to make sure this team is okay, you know that,” and with a small grin, he adds “I’m just happy that one of my hobbies was useful for the case.”

Hotch can’t help but smile a little in return, and with that, they go back to washing their hands in a more comfortable silence.

---

Walking back into the waiting area, Hotch is confronted with the sight of Reid and Rossi surrounded by a pile of snacks from one of the vending machines. He pauses for a second, shakes his head, and then continues back to the chair he was sitting in earlier. Once he’s seated, Reid tosses him a bag of something—chips? —which he dutifully opens under the watchful eye of Rossi. Morgan snags his own snack and then leans against the nearest wall, content to stand. A short while later, Emily and JJ return, Emily’s arm secure around JJ’s shoulders, before they too are digging in to the veritable mountain of food that Reid and Rossi managed to accumulate. Sitting in silence—save the crunching of whatever food they were eating—the team takes a second to contemplate and reassess the day.

The sound of Velcro breaks Hotch out of his trance, and he looks over to see Morgan undoing his bulletproof vest. The vests which the rest of them are still wearing. There’s a scramble after that, to rid themselves of their exterior layer, which are then haphazardly stacked on an open seat. Taking a deep breath for what feels like the first time in days, Hotch sinks back in his chair and closes his eyes, head tipped back against the cool wall behind him.

“Anyone want water?” Reid is the first to break the tenuous silence. There’s a chorus of hums and head shakes before he stands and wanders off, presumably in the direction of the vending machines where he first got the food.

“She’ll be fine, you know,” Rossi says looking at Aaron, whose eyes are now open, staring at the ceiling. “She’s tough, tougher than I think we gave her credit for.”

Hotch sighs in response, but Emily is the next to speak up.

“Robertson said she didn’t scream, which…” she trails off, looking at the floor before meeting Aaron’s eyes. “I don’t think I could have done that, not like that. I can’t imagine what that was like for her...”

“I wish we had gotten there sooner,” Hotch finally says. “I wish—”

“No.” Morgan says, a hard edge to his voice. “Don’t do that to yourself, Hotch. Or any of us. We did what we could and we found her alive.”

“I know, but—” Hotch is cut off by JJ this time.

“But nothing, Aaron. She’s going to be okay.” And with that, JJ moves from her chair to the one next to him and gently puts a hand on his shoulder. “She was awake and talking before they took her away, you know that,” she adds softly.

“Hey guys, so I talked to the nurse and—” Reid returns and with those words, Hotch sits straight in his seat, JJ’s hand falling away as his attention and that of his teammates focus on what Reid has to say next. “—and apparently, Y/N only needed minor surgery to repair some internal damage from three of the stab wounds and the other slashes were relatively shallow, so they just needed to be stitched up. She also has contusions on her head from where I’m guessing Robertson hit her to initially subdue her, and she does have a concussion and broken nose, but according to the nurse Y/N only has to stay here for a maximum of three days to make sure that there are no serious effects from the concussion and to keep an eye on her sutures before she’ll be cleared to leave.” Reid’s final statement hangs in the air, sinking in, and once it does, Aaron hangs his head as tears fall down his cheeks. You’re okay. You’re alive you’re alive you’re alive.

Derek immediately calls Garcia to give her the good news and her scream of excitement can be heard by the rest of the team even though Morgan did not have her on speakerphone. Rossi chuckles to himself before looking over at Aaron and his shaking shoulders. Putting a hand on his back, Rossi doesn’t say anything, but instead, provides silent support to the man who almost lost what little he had left.

“Agent Y/L/N?” comes a voice from the desk, and Aaron wipes his eyes before taking a breath and standing and turning with the rest of the team.

“Yes?” It’s Prentiss who replies.

“We’ve moved her to a room; you can see her now,” and with that, the nurse beckons for them to follow her through the set of double-doors that lead further into the hospital. Coming to a stop, the nurse turns and fixes Hotch with a look. “I’ll warn you now, she looks worse off than she actually is, so don’t be put off by her appearance. She shouldn’t move too much because there’s a risk she’ll rip her stitches, but other than that, she’ll be okay,” and with a nod, she opens the door and ushers them inside.

Aaron’s eyes rush to take in your appearance—butterfly bandages across your nose, a few on your cheekbones and forehead, bandages up both arms, and he’s sure there’s more hidden from view. For a moment, he’s taken back to the last time he saw you laying this still. Crumpled on the floor, bloody and unmoving, Robertson with a knife crouched over you, going to kill you—

Prentiss pushes past him, breaking his train of thought, as she moves to your side and gives a low whistle before gingerly taking your hand. Aaron walks to your other side, bending down to place a kiss on the top of your head, and the rest of the team surround your bed, everyone gazing down at your sleeping form.

---

The first thing you notice is the pain in your head, followed by pain that slowly pulses through your whole body, and for a moment, you remember. Robertson, the knife, slicing, slashing, taunting, yelling, don’t scream can’t scream—

But then you feel it. The familiar pressure of Aaron kissing your head and it clears your head a bit. Not with Robertson, not with Robertson, I’m not with that fucker.

“Fuck,” you groan, mind still hazy, pain more intense, as you return to consciousness. “Wh’re am I?” you slur out next, as you blink away the tiredness in your eyes and try not to squint at the fluorescents or the shadows that are sharpening into your team.

Looking to your right, you lock eyes with Aaron, who pushes hair off of your face before smiling sweetly at you and you try to smile back.

“Hi, Love,” you say, voice low and rough. He leans down and kisses your forehead this time, before gently holding your hand.

Realizing you aren’t alone, you look around at the rest of the team, squeezing Emily’s hand in yours.

“You killed ‘im?” you ask, searching her face. She nods. “Good,” you sigh. “He was such an asshole.”

With that, Derek laughs, followed by Rossi. Emily’s shoulders drop as she lets out a chuckle, Spencer smiles, and JJ rolls her eyes with a fond grin. Almost the whole team.

As if summoned by the power of thought, Derek’s phone rings and he answers the call, Garcia’s voice coming through loud and clear on speakerphone.

“Y/N! My poor, poor, goddess divine how are you?” she questions. You clear your throat and attempt to speak, but before you can say anything Morgan is passing the phone to Aaron, who holds it closer to your face. You shoot him a grateful smile before responding.

“I’m fine, Pen. Just some cuts and scrapes,” you joke.

“That’s a lie, Y/L/N and we all know it. Don’t make me ask you again!” she chastises and you roll your eyes, holding back a wince as pain twinges through your side.

“I’ll be okay, Penelope,” you say softly. Another jolt of pain, this time in your arm, almost makes you whimper, but you bite your lip instead. An action which does not go unnoticed in a room full of profilers.

“It’s nice to see you awake, Y/N,” JJ says lightly before shooting a glance at Aaron and then looking at the rest of the team. “But we should get back to the hotel.”

“Bye my lovelies! I’m happy you’re okay, Y/N. Get home safe, please! Garcia out,” and Derek puts his phone away before smiling at you. Reid give you a small wave and Rossi claps a hand on Aaron’s shoulder before they all turn to exit.

With one last squeeze to your hand, Emily lets go and follows the rest of the team, save Aaron, out the door with the promise that they’ll return later.

When everyone is out and the door shuts behind them, you finally let out a pained breath and scrunch your eyes shut with a groan. You feel Aaron smooth a hand over your hair and you try to control your breathing, but it’s hard when your entire body hurts. Slowly, tears make their way down your face and Aaron’s quick to softly brush them away. Turning to look at him, you allow yourself to breakdown in the safety of his presence.

Your breath hitches as the tears fall faster, your head hurts, your chest hurts, everything hurts and you try not to break into a sob, but the tears won’t stop and eventually sobs wrench from your body and you let them. Aaron has tears of his own falling down his face and he holds your hand in both of his, kissing your knuckles, fingertips, palm, whatever he can as he watches you break. He wants to hold you, wrap you in his arms and shield you from the pain but he can’t because your injuries prevent him from doing so and it pains him to see you this way. So he does what he can.

“I love you too, Sweetheart. I didn’t get to say it before you passed out and—” he pauses to take a breath. “I love you so much. So so much.”

“I was so scared—” you gasp through a sob. “Terrified, Aaron. I couldn’t—” you can’t speak through the force of your tears. Aaron shushes you and kisses your cheek, running his thumb over your knuckles.

“I know, Sweetheart. I know, but you were so brave, so brave and I am so proud of you for being so strong and—” he breaks off in his own soft sob. “—and for staying alive. You’re alive.”

Lifting a hand to scrub at your face, you take a few deep breaths, but more tears escape.

“I can’t—” your breath hitches at what exactly Robertson had done to you. “He wanted me to scream so I didn’t, I couldn’t. I knew what he did to the others, and I just thought that—” you take another breath. “I just thought that if I could deny him that, not give in, it would buy you guys time to find me,” you pull Aaron’s hand to your lips, resting them on the back of his hand and closing your eyes to ground yourself.

“And you did,” he replies softly, gently. “When we found you—” he takes his own steadying breath. “When we found you, Robertson was angry, he said…he said he needed to make you scream, and hearing that…I just,” he moves his hand to cup your face, softly moving his thumb over the bandage on your cheekbone. “You astound me, Sweetheart. Everyday,” he finishes in a whisper.

“I love you,” you say just as softly.

“I love you more,” he smiles, and you can’t help but smile back.

You lean forward, then. And he meets halfway, hand disentangling from yours so he can cradle both sides of your face as he sinks into the kiss. One of your own hands finds its place on his cheek and you sigh into his lips. This. This is what kept me alive, you think when he gently tilts your head. I love you I love you I love you. Thank you. With tears slowly drying on both your faces, you and Aaron revel in the comfort of each other. In the words you don’t have to speak, and the touch of the one you love. Through the worry, pain, and fear of the day, this is how it always ends. You and Aaron. Together. Safe. Loved.

701 notes · View notes

uwuwriting · 4 years ago

Text

Yandere ex w/ Midoriya and Bakugou

Request: Can I request some headcanons about Deku, Bakugou annnddd whoever else you'd like with reader and they are currently dating

Reaction to reaching you from your crazy ex boyfriend who is...very powerful and has managed to corner you, alone. You're scared, you're a civilian.

" oh shh. Don't cry baby, i'm here. Now that I'm here, you're all mine, now that you're done being silly. You and me forever"

( thought that'd get the creepy factor)

I'm just a sucker for rescue missions. I'm just so interested in how they'd approach that situation, how they'd comfort reader afterwards

Thank you. For reading this if you don't do this

Which is totally fine! - anonymous

Bruh rescue missions are just *chef’s kiss*. I’ve been having a mini Deku and Bakugou infatuation and I just wanna see more fics with these cuties and their civilian s/os. Like legit there aren’t enough fics with quirkless/civilian readers out there and I’m sad. Love ya.💖💖💖

masterlist II rules

warnings: stalking, attempted kidnapping, mentions of toxic past relationships, being chased, eventual fluff in the form of comfort, TW BEWARE.

Midoriya Izuku/ Pro hero! Deku

-Izuku believed you were an angel walking on earth.

-He met you in the brink of death *literally* when you stitched him up and stabbed an IV into his arm.

-It was love at first sight for him tbh and he is proud to admit it too.

-Soon enough -and after many many more visits to the hospital so he can be treated by dr. L/N- he asked you out and now you’re living together.

-He knows about your ex and he hates him for what he did to you.

-He has coaxed you into relaxing many nights after you’ve had terrible nightmares about your ex finding you again and this time not only putting your freedom on the line but also Izuku’s safety.

-You know he is a pro hero and all but you can’t stop seeing him on your apartment floor, unmoving with your ex looming over him.

-He is always there to chase that horrible darkness away and replace it with the warmth of his love.

-So as time passed, thoughts of your ex became less and less frequent until they stopped popping up throughout the day all together and you were happy with that.

-Then the universe decided that it should serve you with a good old traumatizing experience to spice things up.

-You were walking home after your shift at the hospital was over, exhausted out of your mind when you felt the hairs at the back of your neck rise.

-It was like a sixth sense, knowing that something was up.

- “Y/n-chan~”

-Your blood ran cold at the familiar voice, your mind going blank as you quickly fished out your phone dialing Izuku’s number while speeding up.

- “Hey angel w-”

- “Izu he is here. H-he is f-following me.”

-You heard his feet hitting the pavement on the other line as he ran down the busy street, completely forgetting about the patrol he was on.

- “Where are you angel?”

-Sharing your location with him you took a sharp turn and into a convenience store, walking to the very back and hiding behind a few shelves, your eyes glazing over as you heard the sliding doors ding as your ex stepped inside not even a minute after you.

-When did he get so close?

- “Izu please.”

- “I’m almost there Y/N, I’ll protect you I promise.”

-You held your breath as footsteps got closer, Izuku’s breathing keeping you grounded as they echoed through the other line.

-Dipping behind another shelf you zigzagged through the aisles hoping to lose him as you slowly and quietly made your way to the entrance, your plan being to run outside and find Izuku.

-Your plan though was cute short when an arm wrapped tightly around your waist bringing you flush with a sturdy chest, your ex’s head dipping into your hair and breathing in your scent in an exaggerated sniff.

- “You like the chase Y/N-chan~? I’ve got you now.”

-Izuku’s panicked voice could be heard coming from your phone as he listened to your ex talking to you.

-A whimper of your actual boyfriend’s name left your lips in an attempt to get away from him but his grip on you tightened making a sob escape you as tears cascaded down your cheeks, too many awful memories of your past relationship flooding your mind.

-You wanted your Izuku.

- “Aww baby don’t cry. And my name isn’t Izuku so don’t make that silly little mistake again because it doesn’t make me happy when you call out other men’s names. I got you now and everything will be back to normal in no time. Just you and me my sweet Y/N.”

-You thrashed around, your hands clawing at the arm wrapped around your waist and the other one that was holding your chin.

-In your panic you didn’t even hear the ding of the store’s doors as your boyfriend stepped in, eyes immediately locking on your crying features and the outer fear in your eyes as you ex tried kissing your neck.

-It took him mere seconds to untangle you from your ex’s grasp and pull you safely into his chest, a punch flying right into your attackers jaw as he fell to the floor with a loud thud.

-His hands went immediately to cradle your head near his chest, rubbing soothing circles on your back as you sobs wracked through your body.

- “Shh angel, it’s me I’m right here shh. He can’t hurt you Y/N.”

-Police sirens echoed outside as a few officers poured through the double doors, Izuku scooping you up and taking you outside trudging the familiar road to your shared apartment.

-You wouldn’t let go of his hero costume as he calmly set you on your shared bed, whispering to you that he was only going to the closet to help you both change.

-It took him a lot of time to actually calm you down and when he managed it he called his agency to inform them that he would be taking the day off.

-The only thing he could do after that was hold you as close to his chest as he possibly could, reassuring you that he wouldn’t be coming anywhere close to you from now on that he was officially gone.

Bakugou Katsuki/ Pro Hero! Dynamight

-It was a stupid argument that escalated and now he found himself crashing at Kirishima’s.

-You two hadn’t talked for about a week now and Bakugou feared that you had had enough of him and you would break up if he called.

-He felt awful.

-He just wanted to go back home to you, kiss you, hug you, be back in his normal routine with the love of his life but no he had to be stubborn and push you to your limits with a silly argument that he doesn’t even remember what the fuck it was about.

-It was the third sleepless night for him and he couldn’t stop his brain from drifting to you and what you might be doing.

-You on the other hand were terrified out of your mind.

-Not long after Katsuki stormed out of your apartment you had started getting texts from an unknown number saying things like “He is finally gone” and “Now we can be together again dolly.”

-The nickname had sent shivers down your spine, memories of your toxic/yandere ex flooding your mind.

-Katsuki had helped you run away from him and heal after those dark days.

-Walking to the kindergarten you worked at became a constant threat.

-You were always looking behind your shoulder for anyone who might be following you, coming very close to calling Katsuki more than once when you thought that you had caught a whiff of your ex.

-You began asking your coworkers to walk home with you using the excuse that it felt kinda lonely walking alone.

-Things reached a tipping point when the photos started coming in.

-Photos of you in your class helping the kids, on your way to the station to catch your train every morning and even from inside your own house.

-Photos of you putting on one of Katsuki’s hoodies was filled with manic scribbles of the word stop as a big red circle was drawn around your boyfriend’s sweatshirt.

-It terrified you and you wanted nothing else than to call Katsuki and beg him to come back.

-But despite it all your worthless pride and ego got in the way convincing you that you would fight your ex with your own two hands.

-All those thoughts were tossed out the window when you heard your ex’s voice outside your apartment’s door on a late Friday night.

- “Dolly open the door~”

-In less than a second you had pushed the kitchen table in front of the door, your fingers hastily dialing Katsuki’s number, tears already streaming down your cheeks as your ex pounded at the front door, his voice and pleas becoming more and more aggressive as the seconds ticked by.

-Two agonizing minutes passed before Bakugou answered, his gruff voice reaching your ears from the other line as he answered with a short “What”

- “Katsu please h-he is trying to get in. H-he is at the d-door. I-I don’t know what to do.”

- “Baby lock yourself in our room and try to barricade the door. After that hide I’ll be there before you know it.”

-You could hear a door slamming shut and his hasty steps coming through the other line.

-Doing as you were told you locked your bedroom door, pushing your dresser in front of it as more bangs came from the front door the legs of the kitchen table scraping the floor as the door almost rattled off its hinges.

-Ducking underneath your bed you let out a few whines to which Katsuki answered with reassuring words.

- “I’m almost there baby, I’ll save you. Fuck, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry baby. I should be home with you right now keeping you safe from that lunatic. I’m sorry I love you so much.”

- “Katsu please hurry please. I-I’m so scared. Please.”

- “I can see our building don’t worry-”

-A loud thud came from the kitchen and only a few seconds later something rammed into the bedroom door ripping another whimper from your throat.

- “Oh my god Katsu he’s in our house!!”

- “Y/N, dolly, why are you making this so difficult my love? I just want” *thud* “to love you” *thud* “the way you” *thud* “DESERVE!”

-In one finally push your dresser was finally knocked over as the door creaked slightly open, your ex squeezing through the crack a laugh and a breathy moan of your name escaping his lips as he stepped inside.

- “Katsuki I lo-”

-The only thing that Katsuki could hear was your scream as he barreled up the stairs to your apartment.

-He was gonna skin that bastard alive for hurting you and then he would skin himself alive for allowing this to happen.

-He will never forget the look of pure terror in your eyes as you ex was pining you on the floor, your eyes darting through the room desperately searching for a way to escape this.

-Katsuki tackled your assailant, straddling his waist as he let punch after punch connect with the bastard's face as you cowered to the far corner of the room.

-After a few minutes of relentless punching your ex was knocked out cold while Katsuki was cradling you to his chest, rubbing circles onto your scalp as you sobbed in his chest.

-You don’t remember much of what happened later, too exhausted to process anything and too comfortable in Katsuki’s arms as he led you to Kirishima’s house to spend the night.

-He refused to take you to a hotel, he thought you would feel safer in a familiar environment.

-Kiri left you two alone as Katsuki prepared a bath and a change of clothes.

- “Katsu…”

-His name left your lips as a mere whisper and it broke his heart.

- “I can’t go back to our house...He had been in there….he had taken pictures I-I”

- “Shh it’s alright. It was getting kinda small for us anyways. Shh Don’t worry about it.”

- “I’m sorry Katsu, I’m so sorry.”

-It would take a lot of hard work to build up your sense of safety and he knew it but he was ready to give it his all for you.

- “No need to apologize baby. You know I would do anything for you and your safety and I’ll be here next to you now matter what. I love you and I will never stop. You kinda have my wrapped around your finger, woman.”

-You let out a weak giggle followed by an “I love you” of your own and a little peck on the lips, as you snuggled close to him, his arms bringing you safely to his chest in a way to calm your nerves.

-You really did have wrapped around your finger.

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my-soul-sings · 3 years ago

Text

kiss the girl: ch 2

Fandom: Tears of Themis Characters: Artem x Reader

Summary: Armed with a trusty book, Artem Wing attempts to win the woman of his dreams.

ch 1 | ch 2

***

“Surprise her with flowers.”

Artem has skipped to the second half of the book where the practical suggestions are, because he doesn’t have the patience to carefully read the lengthy explanations of the “psychology of love”. The practical tips are simple enough, but the explanations following each of them are unnecessarily long and repetitive.

Ignoring those, he highlights the ones that stand out—those that sound more doable for him, at least.

The first one he notices is a classic: flowers. Of course. He’s done it before actually—he’d given her a bouquet of garden cosmos because she told him that she liked them. She didn’t really show much of a reaction back then, but he recalls the warm smile it had put on her face for the rest of that day. He doesn’t mind seeing it again.

But, would it be boring to do the exact same thing? Maybe he can change it up slightly… If he recalls correctly, the book said something about how to send a bouquet of flowers in a way that will “keep her on her toes”.

It doesn’t take long for him to scan the book and find the relevant page. However, as he goes over the detailed suggestion, his brows gradually turn downwards into a frown.

“Will this really work...” he mumbles to himself, pressing a finger to his temple. Frankly, it sounds unnecessarily cliched and cumbersome… not to mention embarrassing. No doubt, if Celestine catches wind of this, she won’t let him live it down.

But, he supposes, if he’s going to take relationship advice from a book, then he might as well go through with it fully.

Having made up his mind, Artem picks up his phone and begins typing up a draft message.

***

You’ve barely stepped into the office when you hear Kiki calling your name in an unusually high-pitched voice. Your first thought is that she’s managed to get tickets for the upcoming concert for her favourite idol group.

But then you arrive at your desk and realise a marked change from how you had left it the night before: your usually clean and neat desk now has a large bouquet of garden cosmos placed right in the middle of it.

Artem’s is the first name that comes to mind, but you dismiss the thought quickly. With his shy and reserved personality, it’d be strange to expect him to send you flowers out of the blue.

Your sharp eyes don’t miss the little pink rectangular card sticking out from the side of the bouquet. Kiki spots it at the same time as you do, and her eyes widen with a playful gleam, not even trying to be subtle with the way she’s leaning over to you, to take a peek at the message.

With a cheeky smile, you lean away from her too, deliberately hiding the card from her view, which only makes Kiki kick up a fuss about wanting to see too. Thankfully, Celestine isn’t in the office yet. You don’t think you can deal with two overly-enthused friends this early in the morning.

Ignoring Kiki’s protests, you open the folded card to read it. As it turns out, there’s not much to hide from her. The message is a simple and curt one:

I hope this makes you smile. Have a good day.

“There’s no signature,” you remark, handing the card to Kiki who practically lunges for it. Her disappointment at the short message is obvious. “Why would someone give you flowers without signing off on it?”

“Maybe they forgot?” you venture, although you carefully search the bouquet in case you missed something else.

“Don’t tell me… Did you send this to yourself?”

You’re unable to hold in your laughter at the absurd idea, and the both of you simultaneously burst into giggles. Just then, your finger feels the edge of another piece of paper hidden between the wrapping paper. You pull it out, and it’s just a small, square card with the letter ‘M’ written on it in fancy, embellished lettering.

“Maybe it’s the first letter of his name?” Kiki suggests. “Who do you think it’s from?”

The letter ‘M’... You don’t know that many people whose name starts with that letter, and a familiar face is already coming to mind—he’s the only one who would pull a stunt like this, especially after you told him specifically a few days ago that you did not want him to send flowers to you, and especially not to your workplace. You don’t want to be teased by your colleagues and worse, Artem might get the wrong idea if he sees it.

“I think I might know who the culprit is…”

With a clenched fist, you pull out your phone and search up the contact before hitting the ‘call’ button. Kiki is left behind, cleanly forgotten, as you storm out of the office to give the culprit a piece of your mind.

***

When Artem enters the office that morning, the first thing he notices is Celestine and Kiki whispering to each other at the pantry while stealing glances at a certain attorney’s way. He follows their gazes to her desk where she’s seated and doing work as always, although today there seems to be a frown etched onto her face, and the bouquet of flowers are nowhere to be seen.

He panics for a moment, wondering if something had gone wrong with the delivery, but then he notices the wrapping peeking out from underneath the table when he walks past her desk and heads towards the pantry, where her two friends are obviously talking about her behind her back—literally.

“What’s going on?” he asks in a low whisper after exchanging morning greetings with them. “Did something happen?”

Celestine discreetly points in the direction of their sulking friend with a grimace. “She’s been like this ever since she got the flowers this morning.”

Artem’s brows knit together, and his mouth opens and closes a few times before he finally manages to piece together his thoughts into a coherent sentence. “I thought... she’d be happy to receive flowers.”

“I thought so too,” Kiki nods, “but when I asked if she knew who the sender was, she suddenly got angry. Said she knew who the culprit was and stormed off. Then she came back and she’s been doing work like this ever since.” She finishes her explanation with a drawn-out sigh, and her eyes return to the back figure of the junior lawyer who’s furiously typing away at her computer.

Artem follows her gaze, and nervously swallows a lump that had formed in his throat without him realising. As always, Celestine is annoyingly quick to catch on to what he’s thinking, and she startles him slightly with an elbow nudge to his arm. “Shouldn’t you put your things down in your office? Or are you here for coffee again?”

He’s not even in the mood to humour her right now. With an absent hum, he nods and quietly trudges towards his office.

Once he’s inside and the door is shut, his bag falls to the ground by his desk and his jacket is flung unceremoniously onto the back of his chair before he sinks into it, fingers entangling in his hair.

He’s screwed. Did he send her the wrong flowers? But she said she liked garden cosmos and he had sent her the same flowers before, so that can’t be it.

Then, was it the message? But he took pains to make sure that it was short, simple and pleasant. Or was it because it was too short? Had she been expecting more?

No, no, but Kiki said she got angry after she figured out who the sender was… which meant that she was angry at him. Had he overstepped the boundaries by sending flowers to the office?

That’s probably it. He messed up horribly. Of course she would be upset that her boss sent her flowers to the office—that was inappropriate. Entirely inappropriate. Why didn’t he think this through properly? Stupid, stupid stupid…

He’s so lost in his thoughts that he doesn’t even register the sound of knocking on his door. It’s only when he hears his name being called that he looks up, only to meet the gaze of his colleague whom he can’t bear to face right now.

Hastily, he fixes his hair from the crazed pulling and tugging just seconds ago, and sits upright in his chair while eyeing her cautiously. He’d better pick his words wisely here. “Yes?” The word comes out strained, as if he’s choking.

“I’ve completed the draft statement of claim for the Macrosoft employee issue—the one about the breach of restraint of trade clause and the conspiracy claim,” she says, placing a set of papers on his table. “I’ve also completed the legal opinion you requested for the resulting trust analysis on the Williams’ matrimonial property issue, and I will send you the draft affidavit for Mrs Jones’ case by the end of today.”

“Ah. Thank you…” Artem waits for her to say something else, all while scrutinising her face. She doesn’t seem as angry as before—although she does look a little confused when she meets his gaze.

“Did I miss anything?” she asks, already visibly starting to panic.

“N-No, it’s not that...” Should he just apologise right now and avoid letting the issue fester? He’s not sure if he should be happy or unnerved by how perfectly normal she’s acting. Is she not angry anymore? Or is she just doing an exceptional job of holding her anger in? All those reminders he used to give her about maintaining composure in front of clients and in court must have paid off.

“Okay. Then, if there’s nothing else, I’ll go—”

“Wait, just— just a second.” She peers at him curiously as he stands to his feet and walks over to her, all the while refusing to make eye contact with her.

“T-The morning... flowers… you...” For goodness’ sake, he makes a living off speaking before the court, and yet here he is, reduced to the equivalent of a blabbering toddler in front of his colleague.

“Ah... you saw those?” she looks away, and he sees the frustration from earlier returning to her face.

“You… don’t like them?”

“It’s not that,” she replies, twisting her lips. “It’s just a stupid prank to play on someone.”

“A… stupid… prank?” Each word is like a stab to his chest. Did he do something to give her the impression that he was making fun of her, or playing a joke? Most people think he’s too serious to crack jokes in the first place...

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve settled it with the culprit.”

For the first time in the conversation so far, Artem doesn’t sink further into his internal pool of self-pity. Instead, he’s now genuinely puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“I just called him to tell him to not send me flowers to the office anymore. I’ve told him before, but he really doesn’t listen to people.”

“Who?”

“Marius. You know how he is.”

“You think… Marius… gave you the flowers?”

“Yeah. He kept denying it over the phone, but I know better than to believe him. Who else would send me flowers for no reason?”

She’s staring at him expectantly, as if waiting for him to laugh at her rhetorical question or respond to it in some way.

Artem doesn’t answer. He doesn’t know how, because his mind has drawn a complete blank at this point, save for the one question ringing in his mind:

Where the heck did she get the idea that the flowers were from Marius?

In his stupor, Artem doesn’t realise that the silence in his office has been stretching on for far too long for it to be comfortable. And he doesn’t notice the realisation that clicks in her eyes after a while, until he hears a quiet, “ Oh .”

She sheepishly meets his eyes. “By any chance, was that letter on the card meant to be a ‘W’? As in, ‘Wing’?”

Should he admit it? If he does, will her anger shift to him? Should he just let Marius be the scapegoat and live the rest of his days in quiet atonement and regret?

Artem doesn’t get the chance to admit it, because she easily reads the answer off his very perplexed and obviously guilty expression. Obviously, he’s far better suited to defending criminals than acting like one.

“Are you mad?” he asks her, when she too, falls silent.

“Huh? No, no, of course not. Why would I be?”

“You were angry when you thought Marius sent you flowers.”

“That’s because it’s Marius. But I’m glad the flowers were from you .” Her lips spread into a warm smile, and in that instant, all of Artem’s worries dissolve into thin air. “I love the bouquet, it’s beautiful. Thank you.”

A smile of relief makes its way onto his face, and he nods. “I’m glad you like it.”

So there is some truth to the book that Celestine gave him after all.

In that case… maybe next time, he can send her roses. He hopes he’ll have the occasion to, anyway. For now, he’ll take it one step at a time.

#artem wing #tears of themis #artem fanfiction #artem fanfic #tears of themis fanfiction #tears of themis fanfic #my writing #this is up on AO3 as well if u wanna read it there!#my handle is morninwarri0r #kiss the girl

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emmy-writes-sometimes · 4 years ago

Text

They'd Bring You Back

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x daughter!reader

Summary: You’re an unsub’s latest target, but your personality is way more than he bargained for.

Warnings: Blood/descriptions of stabbing and cutting, typical CM drama, fluffy dad!hotch

“And what about me?” You’d asked with a puffy lip, arms crossed, pouting as you sat on your father’s lap. He’d just laughed.

“What about you?”

“If I got kidnapped.” He rolled his eyes.

“You’re so annoying, they would bring you back. And that-” He said as he stood up, taking you with him before setting you on the floor. “Is a promise.”

Things had changed since you had that conversation. Drastically - back then you were only eight and your dad was a prosecutor for the DA. Your mom was alive. Your brother wasn’t even a thought in their minds at that point. And nobody could fathom what would happen when you were a little older.

You went off the rails when your mother died. The trauma was enough that you ended up living with Rossi for a few months while your dad figured out how to juggle Jack and the job and all of your issues. That further fractured your relationship when you felt like he forgot about you. But since you moved back in with him, you had started to feel like things could be normal again. Like things could be good again. You were getting into a routine - Jack would stay with your aunt while your dad was on a case since he went to a school on the other side of town from yours, you would watch Rossi’s house while he was gone since you were old enough to stay by yourself, and you’d go pick up your dad when he got back from a case.

They’d spent a week in Reno and really just wanted to get back to the house after mountains of paperwork. The holidays were coming up and your dad wanted to spend as much time with you as he possibly could, promising to take off some time to go on a day trip with you and Jack. You had made his favorite snack and walked out of Rossi’s front door, locking it and making sure it was locked, before going over to your car.

You held the covered bowl of food in one hand, trying to get the right key in the other hand. You got as far as unlocking the car before you heard a shuffling noise behind you. You turned, seeing nothing alarming, but when you turned back there was an unfamiliar person in front of you.

“Hotch, I think you need to accept that she was taken because...” Rossi started the next morning as they walked into the briefing room. The worst part of it was that they were being briefed on you. The police had determined that you’d been kidnapped, obviously, because there was no way in hell you’d start running away when things had just started to get better between you and your dad.

“How could they have known?” Hotch asked. “How could this unsub have known it was my daughter walking out of your house?” Rossi shrugged, not quite having an answer, and the two sat down.

“I’ve been thinking that the unsub must have been watching for a while. Long enough to know that she stays at Rossi’s when you’re both gone. They have to know who she is, Hotch. It doesn’t make sense for this to just be a random kidnapping,” Morgan said.

“And if anyone can get through it, it’s her,” JJ offered. “She’s a strong-ass kid. She just needs to hold on until we can find her.”

“Uh, guys?” Garcia walked in the room with a remote in hand, switching the large TV in the room over to what looked like a livestream. Of you.

“Holy-” Morgan started. Hotch’s eyes widened in shock, and as if he couldn’t see he walked up to the screen. “It’s a snuff film.”

You were tied up in a chair, a rope around your throat and your body so you were forced to sit up with your spine to the back of the chair. Your mascara was running down your face in silent tears.

“My dad’s going to find me!” You yelled to the unsub, looking around the room. They were watching the same camera that your dad was, but you didn’t know that. You didn’t know that you were the star of your very own snuff film. Suddenly the unsub’s voice came over the loud speaker in the dark, cold room. A cellar - you had to be in a basement or a cellar or something. You came to that conclusion at the same time as your father did, and you also came to the conclusion that he was watching you. This unsub was using you to get to your father, and somehow that pissed you off more than the idea of someone kidnapping you just for kicks.

“He’s using her to get to me,” Hotch determined. “We need to find out how to contact this unsub. Get what he wants. Garcia, do everything you can to track them down. We need to figure out what he wants before he hurts her.”

“My dad’s going to find me!” You yelled again. “I bet he’s already profiled how small your dick is!”

“Okay, sweetheart, now’s not the time,” your dad mumbled as if he was speaking directly to you. He rubbed his pointer finger against a scar on his thumb, one you’d given him shortly after your mom died.

“Although impotent might not actually be that bad of an observation,” Rossi suggested. You struggled against the hard ropes that were holding you down, only getting angrier and angrier at the unsub for not at least facing you.

You finally huffed and looked at the camera in front of you, then around the room. You were definitely in a cellar or a basement of some kind - maybe even an old nuclear bunker or something. The walls were metal, but they looked home-made almost. The white paint was peeling off of said metal walls, revealing a rusty red color that looked like dried blood. Then you were there, in an antique-looking wooden chair. So it was probably an estate of some kind, you thought. Who else would just have this kind of shit sitting around unless they were older, and it had definitely been a younger guy that kidnapped you. You could only hope your dad made the same observation as he watched you on the other side of the camera. Because who else would that camera be for, right?

“You know, your walls give off a lot of information about where I am!” You called throughout the room, looking at the green door. Just then, someone walked in. The same guy who kidnapped you, or at least the same body. But he was wearing a ski mask so you couldn’t identify him.

“Really?” The man asked. He actually seemed curious.

“This chair is antique. So is this room. So you’re keeping me in some kind of family home or estate. I’d guess your grandma’s or your mom’s house because you don’t seem like the type of guy who would ever make it out. And because you’re leaving the mask on, you’re probably not going to kill me. Only people who plan to kill show their faces because they’re scared of being visually identified,” you rattled off. “And we were only in the car for about fifteen minutes, three minutes off of the highway, so there’s no way you took me too far. I take back the impotent thing, at least so far, because you haven’t tried to assault me yet. Anyone who was impotent or had that issue probably would have already.” The man stood there, his arms crossed over a black hoodie. You could vaguely see a shape within the hoodie pocket to know that it was a knife of some kind.

“Good job, kid. Maybe you are your daddy’s kid. I’ve been watching you, you know.” You spit onto the floor out of pure disgust. How long had this creep been watching you? And how?

“Yeah, and if you know who I am then you’re planning to ask for ransom money. Which, you should know, you’ll get. If the FBI won’t pay it, my dad will. But if you’re streaming this to him like I think you are, then you’re planning to do something to me until you get that money.”

“You are smart. I don’t have the letter ready yet, so I figured I’d come have a little fun.” The unsub noticed how calm you were and it kind of scared him a little bit - like who the fuck was calm in this kind of situation? He figured you would be scared, beg your dad to save you, but you were actually holding your own. Huh.

Your dad noticed that, too, and his chest swelled with pride at the same time his stomach ached with fear for you. He kept asking himself why the unsub was sharing it, but he realized. He wanted your father to see what he was doing to you, he wanted your dad to see that everything that happened to you was a reflection of him.

“He’s not a sexual sadist,” your dad said. “The motive isn’t sexual. At all.”

“Good,” Morgan muttered. “But what do you think he wants, then?”

“He wants me to see my actions as a reflection of what happens to her,” he concluded. “He’s going to hurt her. Every time I give him something, it’s going to stop. And then he’s going to start again until I give him what he wants. I’m going to assume it’s money. She’s right about the location, at least from what I can see, so I would assume that money is the main motivation for this.”

“Maybe bail money?” Rossi suggested. “It would make sense. If we put someone away, he would want to see them out. And bail would be a large amount of money.”

“I’ll go tell Garcia to look for people we’ve put away who would be eligible for bail,” Reid said as he stood up. He shuffled away from the table toward Garcia’s office, leaving them to watch the live stream.

“I’ll go make sure SWAT is ready when we have our guy,” Morgan said. “I’ll lead. You don’t need to go in there, Hotch, because for all we know he wants to actually hurt you as well as her.”

“I’ll watch some of the initial footage back. See if we can figure anything about the location,” Prentiss volunteered. Everyone left the table except for your dad, Rossi, and JJ. Your dad had barely even paid attention, too busy looking at the screen as the unsub creeped around you. He had since drawn a knife, twirling it between leather-gloved fingers.

“If you’re going to hurt me, there’s literally no reason to wait,” you pointed out to the unsub.

“You’re annoying. No wonder your dad doesn’t love you.” That hit a nerve in both you and your father, but you didn’t show it. You just sat up a little bit, adjusting your cold, frozen ass on the seat.

“If you’re trying to turn him against me, it’s not going to work. I know he loves me, even in his own twisted way. So stop trying to make it seem like he doesn’t. Psychological torture isn’t going to work on someone who watched their mom die right in front of them.” Your dad’s heart fell thinking about all of the trauma you’d already been through, and how little of it you’d even discussed. After your mom died you just shut down to everyone, including the therapists who tried to help you get through it. You had just pretended like nothing was real and nothing was wrong. This, though? This was fucking real. And you couldn’t block it out no matter how badly you wanted to.

Your father watched as the conversation shifted from just that to actual events that had happened, indicating just how long this guy had been watching. He talked about the fight you had three weeks ago about you accusing your dad of being too overprotective. Then he brought up a fight that was so bad that Jack literally ran down the street to get away from you two. And by then you were crying, begging your dad to just come get you and prove that he loved you. You had been effectively broken by the time the unsub left and he hadn’t even used the knife that he had.

Your father watched absolutely helplessly as the man hurled abusive, and untrue, thoughts at your brain. He watched as the unsub untied you before leaving, allowing you to curl your legs up to your chest and cry on your own. You were doing so well a few minutes ago, so well that you thought maybe your dad might even be proud of you. But now?

“Okay, I have a list of everyone eligible for bail that had anything to do with us. Cases we’ve consulted on, ones we’ve actually worked, all that jazz,” Garcia said over the phone speaker.

“Can you cross reference that with men?” JJ asked.

“Honey, that takes one off the list of fifty,” Garcia answered. JJ sighed.

“What about family issues? Garcia, check any cases that revolved around families. Where they were the target, the motivation, anything,” Rossi said. Everyone could hear Garcia typing, the sound fading out as everyone watched the screen to see what was going to happen next. Reid came back in the room carrying what could only be a ransom note.

“It’s addressed to you, not the BAU,” Reid said as he handed it to your dad. He sighed, taking the letter, and sat down.

Aaron Hotchner:

You can see I have your daughter. You will deliver two installments of fifty thousand dollars. I will be live streaming to your organization as well as a chatroom. Until I receive funds, from this moment on, your daughter will be the star of her very own film. When you can acquire the funds, deliver them to the P.O. Box below. The installments must be in full, or I will not hesitate to kill her. The installments must be delivered over the course of twenty-four hours. For example, you may not deliver one hundred thousand dollars at once. Thank you for your cooperation.

- X

“So he’s trying to get money in two different ways. On the chatroom and from you. This is serving more than one purpose,” Rossi said. He took the note. “Garcia, look and see if any of the bail amounts total one hundred thousand dollars. And look to see if any of them are cash only.”

“Nothing. I’m sorry,” Garcia said after a moment of silence.

“We’ll give them the first fifty thousand,” JJ determined. Everyone in the room turned to look at her as if she was crazy except for your dad. He was visibly shaken, eyes glued to the camera.

“What?” Rossi asked.

“We’ll give them the first fifty thousand as soon as we can get it. We can go ahead and trace the P.O. box, find any connections, and hopefully get our guy before it even gets delivered.”

“And if not?” Your dad asked.

“If not, then we sincerely hope he’s bluffing about hurting her before he gets the second one. Twenty-four hours is a long time.”

Hotch turned back to the screen to see that you were sleeping until the unsub came into the room again. He slammed the door open, carrying a knife in his hand, and walked toward you. You jumped, but didn’t move. You had nowhere to go. You couldn’t leave, so you just sat there with nervous eyes.

“I sent them the ransom note,” the unsub said casually. You swallowed.

“Okay, and? We don’t have that kind of money, and federal funds aren’t going to be...”

“I don’t care about federal funds. Someone better give me my fucking money. Isn’t it taxpayer dollars anyway?”

“You’re a fucking idiot.”

“Oh, I’m so hurt,” the unsub said, “boo hoo. You’ll be the one crying before too long. Sit back in the chair.” You didn’t try to run as he tied you up. You didn’t cry. You didn’t say anything. You just looked at the camera, eyes pleading for someone to fucking do something. If you knew your dad as well as you thought, he’d already made the connections about where you were, hopefully why the guy needed money, and they were already going through the ransom note.

But, no. Your dad was watching as the unsub started by lifting your chin with the silver knife. Then he brushed your hair behind your ears. And then, out of nowhere, he dug the knife into your skin and dragged it down your arm.

“Dad, please,” you said, knowing fully well that he was watching. You didn’t want to seem like you couldn’t handle yourself, but you were getting scared that maybe this guy was actually going to kill you if he didn’t get what he wanted.

“Your daddy’s due to give me some money in a few hours. I figured I’d let you bleed until then.” The unsub was casual as he wiped both sides of the knife on your jeans and then walked out of the room, leaving you tied up.

Garcia tried to had into the livestream and say something, but it didn’t work - there was no way to get a message to you. Your dad just had to sit there and call the bank, telling them that he needed to withdraw everything from his savings. He felt helpless as he watched you cry and bleed.

The P.O. box turned to nothing. The guy had paid in cash and given them a fake name. Garcia’s search came up with four possible matches. Then she looked at property records, and then it was time to give the profile of the unsub. Your dad’s eyes were glued to the screen in the conference room, not even listening to the profile that he would usually be concerned about. He just sat there and watched, hoping that you knew he wouldn’t leave your side even then.

The bank came through and let him withdraw the money, but not before the unsub came back and cut another gash into the same arm. Your dad went to the P.O. box and peeled his eyes away from the screen long enough to deposit the money. They had cops waiting to see who collected it, but nobody did. Nobody even tried to get anything from those boxes.

“You should get some rest,” Rossi said later that night. Your dad shook his head, refusing to leave the screen. “He got his money.”

“And he said he’s going to hurt her still,” your dad insisted. “I’m not leaving her, even if it’s just a screen.” Rossi sighed. The rest of the team agreed not to leave you, either, and they sat there for most of the night, watching as the unsub cut you like a piece of paper.

You had told the unsub numerous times that your dad was coming to get you, and those words haunted the entire BAU as they watched you on the screen. They weren’t coming because they didn’t know where to go. And then the unsub talked you up again, mentioning that he knew you were quiet enough that you wouldn’t scream.

“Garcia, check for neighborhoods. Widen the search again, maybe it’s not bail after all,” Morgan instructed. Garcia started typing again.

“There’s a Joshua Robinson, he lives twenty minutes from Rossi’s house. It looks like his father was one of our unsubs who didn’t make it four years ago. And it looks like he’s over that amount of time in missing mortgage payments. I think this could be our guy,” she said.

“I’ll get SWAT ready again,” Morgan said. He stood up and left the room. Everyone went their separate ways except for your dad, who sat there and watched as the unsub full on stabbed you. Fucking stabbed you - you actually screamed at him instead of starting to cry. You called him impotent. A bitch. You called him slimy. You called him everything in the book and it only aggravated him more.

Morgan drove as fast as he ever had over to the house. They raided it and found nothing - no basement, no nothing. And then they found the reason why the guy was so behind on house payments. They owned the land next to the house, too. It was only a matter of time before they found the bunker and the unsub trying to get away.

Garcia had stopped the stream as soon as she could and called EMT’s to the scene, knowing how hurt you were and how much blood you’d lost. But it was up to your dad to go down to the creepy bunker and get you. He sighed as he descended the stairs and opened the now familiar green door, seeing you, untied but still in the chair. You were so bloody that he barely even recognized you.

“Dad?” You asked as he walked in. He nodded, kneeling in front of you.

“You’re safe, sweetheart, come with me,” he said softly. He threw the ropes off of you and reached underneath you, picking you up and being careful not to hurt you any more than you were already hurt. He took you up to the surface, holding your hand as the EMT’s worked their magic on your arm to try and keep you from bleeding any more than you already were.

They figured out that the unsub had been living at his father’s property, so behind in mortgage payments that he needed almost a hundred thousand dollars to pay for that and for property upkeep so he could sell the place and get a fresh start after attempted murder and kidnapping. You were right about almost every observation you’d made, down to the chair, and when your father looked around the room after loading you into the ambulance he realized just how smart you actually were. And how he hadn’t been paying attention to it.

The next few hours were a blur - they wouldn’t let your dad come with you for anything at the hospital so he just sat there, waiting, with the rest of the team. The unsub had done quite a bit of nerve damage to your arm, leaving you unable to feel any pain in it for what may be forever, but at least you still had your arm. Rossi bought you a guilt gift of a new phone, too, since you’d dropped yours on the concrete, and said he was adding extra extra security to his house if you ever wanted to go there again.

“You were watching the whole time, weren’t you?” You finally said to your dad, shutting your new phone off and putting it in your lap. He was going through some folder before he turned to you, nodding.

“I wouldn’t leave you if I was there. And I’m sorry I didn’t get to you sooner.”

“I’m sorry that anyone thinks I’m worth a hundred thousand dollars.” That made him laugh, if only a little bit. “You always said that they’d bring me back if I was kidnapped.”

“Because you were so annoying!” He laughed. “I think the guy almost did. He was getting pretty fed up with you.” Joking about it, it seemed, was the only way to not cry about it. At least in your family.

“Yeah, I think telling him he had a small dick was a lot for him.”

“I’m really proud of the way you handled that.”

“I had nowhere to go if I tried to run,” you shrugged. “You always taught me that if I’m in a bad situation, stay in it unless I have a way out. You said that’s how you always get through things. Because you don’t just walk out on them.”

“You don’t feel like I walked out on you, do you? And you don’t think that’s why we are the way we are?” You looked down, thinking about it for a minute, before you shook your head.

“No. But-” Your eyes lit up when Rossi walked Jack into the room. He was holding another guilt gift, too, and ran up to you. You picked up your brother and put him in your lap, making him laugh.

“What happened to your arm?” Jack asked, poking at a bandage. You tried not to wince, smiling instead.

“Just a bad guy. But I worked the case,” you told him. He smiled.

“Just like Daddy?”

“Yeah,” your dad said with a smile as he walked over to the two of you. “Just like me.”

A/N: Just some good ole classic Dad!Hotch for y’all... I hope you like it as much as I do!!

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner x daughter!reader #hotch x daughter!reader #hotchner x daughter!reader #criminal minds x reader

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rafael-silva · 3 years ago

Text

lean into me, I’ll catch you: a tarlos fic

The 126 paramedics get called to the scene of a bar fight, tension rising during the drive. The chaotic scene is cluttered with police presence, TK spotting Carlos’s patrol car upon arrival. Once inside the bar, TK gets thrown a sudden and painful curveball.

for bad things happen bingo: tarlos + hidden scar

hurt carlos reyes, worried tk strand, paramedic tk, hurt/comfort, emotional/hurt comfort, kisses, whump, comfort, angst with a happy ending

6.5k | rated T | on ao3

*****

The call comes in a little after lunch.

The crew had just finished cleaning up, all of them hanging out in the common area, keeping busy with various activities. Tommy is chatting with Judd in the corner, while TK, sitting on the kitchen counter, is engaged with Nancy in their own conversation. They restocked the ambulance after their last call and after making sure everything was on track there, relaxed and fell into an easy exchange filled with their usual playful banter and quirky back and forth. TK laughs at one of Nancy’s statements, his eyes wrinkling at the corners which elicits an equally hearty laugh from his partner.

Then the bell goes off, calling the paramedics to a scene of a bar fight with multiple injuries. TK hops off the counter and he and Nancy meet Tommy in the ambulance bay, TK sliding into the driver’s seat, Nancy into the passenger one, Tommy closing the doors behind her as she gets into the back. The sirens blare loudly as TK presses down on the gas petal and drives towards the heart of downtown Austin.

Halfway into their trip, the ambo radio springs to life.

“Be advised,” a dispatcher starts, “incoming report of an officer injured on scene.”

“Copy that,” Nancy replies into her radio. “We’re five minutes out.”

She looks over at TK and notices his grip on the steering wheel tightening and his facial expression hardens as he squares his jaw at the new information. She knows what’s going through his mind.

“We don’t know that it’s him,” Nancy says in a low, calm voice.

TK replies with a firm nod, swallowing. Having no further information on the identity of the injured officer or how bad the injury is, TK feels his head spiral towards the worst case scenario.

Silence falls upon the rig, the atmosphere turning sharp and tense and TK makes no indication of speaking or doing anything besides driving, really, his focus solely on arriving at the scene.

He tries his hardest to control his thoughts, but all the what ifs tug at him and feed into his fear of losing Carlos. He wills his heart to stop thumping against his ribcage as he rounds the corner, the bar in sight now. They’re so close, yet it feels eternities away.

TK parks next to a couple of other ambulances that have responded, the common red and blue lights bouncing off the buildings around. TK jumps out, making quick work of grabbing the medkit as Nancy shoulders the lifepak and Tommy emerges from the back. He’s fast on his feet, making his way through the bystanders and police presence and into the bar, Tommy and Nancy hot on his heels.

The scene is chaos, and it’s almost like a tornado had ripped through the bar. Broken chairs scattered around the space, turned tables, shattered pieces of glass littering the ground, crunching underneath TK’s boots as he strides in.

He pushes all that aside, heart hammering in his chest again as he holds his breath, and having seen Carlos’s patrol car outside moments ago, immediately scans the wrecked place for the officer.

Relief floods his body when his eyes land on Carlos standing with Officer Mitchell near the bar stools, both of them talking to two men, one wearing a red jacket and the other a baseball hat, as the officers attempt to calm them down and diffuse the situation. What little relief TK felt is quickly replaced with concern then, reading the tension in the air and knowing that his boyfriend is quite literally in the middle of it.

It appears those two men are the origin of the havoc, judging by the amount of cops hovering near them, taking statements from people around. TK notices how Carlos’s shoulders are rigid and his face stern as he speaks, sharing a fast look with his partner before returning his attention to the man in front of him.

TK looks away for a moment, to where the other officer is injured and that second is all it takes for a roar to erupt behind him and all hell breaks loose again.

TK isn’t exactly sure what happened as he turns around, but Mitchell jumps into action to keep Mr. Baseball Hat back while Mr. Red Jacket yells heatedly at the other man, scrambling to free himself from Carlos’s hold.

It takes TK’s mind a second to catch up with what’s happening and his heart sinks further seeing Carlos in the middle of the brawl.

TK wants to push through and pull Carlos to safety but he’s suddenly aware of a hand on his shoulder, keeping him in place. He doesn’t need to look to know that it’s Tommy. She most likely had read his mind, his team knowing him so well by now, as she anchors him next to her.

TK is vaguely aware of Nancy saying she’ll check over the hurt officer, but his eyes never leave Carlos, watching with drawn eyebrows as his boyfriend attempts to move Mr. Red Jacket backwards to separate to two angry men. He feels helpless standing there, although he knows deep down that he can’t get involved in the middle of this fight, that he doesn’t have the training for this, he wishes there were something he could do to protect Carlos. To make sure Carlos is okay and safe.

TK trusts that Carlos can handle himself, but it still doesn’t make this situation any easier. The two men don’t appear to be slowing down, fueled by rage and adrenaline, it appears that they’re overpowering Carlos and Mitchell.

Officers rush over to aid Carlos and Mitchell, but they reach them a little too late. TK feels his heart drop as he watches his boyfriend’s face morph into a wince, his eyebrows drawing together and eyes going wide at a realization. Carlos is momentarily frozen in place as the two men are taken down around him. But he doesn’t move after, blinking slowly now. And that’s the thing that keeps TK on edge.

TK himself stunned, remains in place, his eyes moving with Carlos as the taller man searches the crowd, eyes hazy, not really looking for anything in particular. But TK sees a spark of recognition when Carlos’s eyes eventually land on him.

TK can tell that Carlos relaxes ever so slightly, his brown eyes meeting TK’s worried green ones. The world narrows to the both of them, the sounds around them mute, movements in slow motion, and TK tries his hardest to understand what just happened. Because something isn’t right, Carlos not having moved an inch and is seemingly unaware of what’s happening around him. TK sees Mitchell speak to Carlos over her shoulder as she hauls Mr. Baseball Hat away, but Carlos makes no indication of having heard her.

And then TK gets his answer, catching the slow movement of Carlos’s hand moving to his stomach, and TK’s eyes widen at the large patch staining the officer’s uniform there.

It all clicks together then.

Stab wound, TK’s mind supplies.

The paramedic is all too aware of his quick breathing now, and his heart dropping into his knees as he watches Carlos sway dangerously to the side as he loses his balance, the patch getting bigger with each passing second.

And the way Carlos’s arm weakly reaches out towards him has TK springing into action, fleeing from Tommy’s hold as he pushes through the crowd to catch Carlos.

“Carlos is hurt!” He yells over his shoulder to his Captain, his heart in his throat now.

TK gets to Carlos just as he’s tumbling forward towards the dirty floor. TK drops his equipment as both arms instantly reach out to steady the officer, Carlos falling against his chest but TK, ready for the impact, keeps their balance as he takes on Carlos’s weight.

“Hey, hey,” TK says softly. “I got you, I got you.”

TK gently lowers Carlos down, the sudden appearance of the paramedic and Carlos nearly toppling over capturing the attention of the officers around as they regain their collective breath from handling the two men.

“Reyes?” TK hears someone call from above as he places his palm over Carlos’s stomach and applies pressure, receiving a groan from Carlos.

That grabs Mitchell’s attention and she turns around, grip still on the man and her eyes go big at seeing TK and her partner on the floor. She hands him off to another officer before she’s rushing to their side.

“Carlos! What the hell happened?” She asks TK, her voice filled with shock.

“He’s been stabbed,” TK replies, eyes not leaving Carlos’s face, who’s growing paler by the second. “Hang on, Carlos. You’re okay, just hang on.”

Before anyone else can speak, Tommy’s voice echoes.

“Coming through!”

TK only looks up then, seeing Tommy and Nancy crouch next to them and open the medical bags.

His attention back on Carlos, TK’s breath catches in his throat when he sees Carlos looking at him, eyes glassy, doing his best to focus on TK.

“TK?” Carlos breaths, his voice frail, almost afraid that he’s imagining the paramedic.

“Yeah, I’m here, I’m right here,” TK is quick to comfort him, reading between the lines.

TK gives Carlos the best smile he could muster, hoping it’s not as shaky as it feels to him.

“Hurts,” Carlos wheezes, shutting his eyes when he feels added pressure on the wound.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry, babe,” TK replies. “We gotta control this bleeding.”

Carlos sighs, face rolling to the side as he peels his eyelids open, finding TK again amidst the fog that is his vision.

The blood seeping through his fingers bring tears to TK’s eyes, and he swallows against his dry throat, trying to keep the tears at bay. It feels like Carlos is slipping from him, and he’s overcome with so much fear, visible in the shaking of his hands. His whole body feels like it’s on fire, heart racing and sweat rolling down his neck and back. He shakes himself out of it, knowing he has to stay strong and calm, for Carlos’s sake.

“You’re okay,” TK sniffs. “Stay with me, baby. Focus on me.”

“Always…you,” Carlos murmurs.

“TK, I need you to remove your hands for a moment,” Tommy instructs.

He meets her gaze with wide eyes, frantically shaking his head.

“I can’t—he’ll—he’ll lose more blood, I have to keep applying pressure,” TK responds, a tear escaping his eye.

“I’ll be quick,” Tommy promises. “I need to inspect the wound.”

After a moment, TK reluctantly pulls his hands back, immediately taking note of how Carlos’s face relaxes a little once the pressure is removed.

TK holds his breath, hand finding Carlos’s and gives it a squeeze, a reassurance that he’s right by his side. Carlos uses all the energy he could muster to return the squeeze.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” TK says as Tommy works, Nancy taking Carlos’s vitals.

Once Nancy finishes and reports Carlos’s numbers, which are low, she hands TK a large piece of gauze and then secures the IV line she started, prepping Carlos for transport.

“Okay,” Tommy nods once she’s done, moving back and TK doesn’t waste a second in covering Carlos’s wound with the gauze and pushing down.

The almost lack of response from Carlos is alarming, and TK looks at Tommy with broad glistening eyes, fear radiating from his green irises.

“He’s going into shock. We need to move now,” Tommy instructs.

A gurney seems to materialize next to them out of thin air, but TK minds no attention to where it came from as he and a couple of other officers lift Carlos off the ground and onto the gurney. The crowd parts as they move, TK keeping constant pressure on Carlos’s abdomen. Mitchell trails closely behind them, clutching her radio as she speaks into it.

They push Carlos into the ambulance, Tommy following and TK getting in after her.

“I’ll meet you at the hospital,” Mitchell tells TK.

He nods as Nancy slams the doors shut and races to the driver’s seat.

The ride to the hospital is agonizing. TK watches as the oxygen mask Tommy placed over Carlos’s face fogs and clears with each weak breath he draws in, his face ashen and skin clammy to TK’s touch. The bleeding had slowed down a little, but there’s no way of knowing what kind of damage has been done internally.

Tommy discards the blood soaked gauze in favor of a fresh one, placing it over Carlos’s stomach and the pressures earns them a hiss from Carlos.

“You’re okay, babe, you’re okay,” TK says, running his thumb along Carlos’s knuckles. “We’re almost at the hospital, everything is going to be just fine.”

“Tired,” Carlos’s voice filters through the mask.

“I know, but you gotta say awake. Can you do that for me, baby?”

Carlos would do anything for TK, so he obliges with a small nod. He sucks in a wobbly breath, and lets it out slowly, eyes latched onto TK. There’s so much worry and fear engraved into TK’s forehead, the height of his fright on full display and Carlos wants to ease that pain and wants to wash away TK’s panic. So he gives TK his best smile, its small and uneven but TK understands.

“You’re okay,” TK nods.

They reach the hospital a few minutes later, the ambulance coming to a halt at the Emergency entrance and the doors are torn open a moment later.

It’s a fury of action from there, Tommy and TK pushing the gurney as Carlos fights against the darkness threatening to take over. He’s semi-aware of Tommy passing the information to the medical team as he’s being wheeled through the hospital hallway, then he directs all his attention to feeling TK’s hold on his hand, warm and steady, strong and reassuring. He sees TK’s face in his line of vision a few seconds later, he’s speaking but the sound doesn’t reach Carlos’s ears.

Then TK’s face is gone as quickly as it had appeared, along with his grounding hold.

A shiver runs through Carlos’s body and he realizes just how cold he is at the loss of TK’s touch. It’s the last thing he’s aware of as he loses the battle with the impending darkness, his eyes slowly slipping shut.

TK feels a piece of his heart being violently torn from him watching the team wheel Carlos away and into an elevator, taking him straight to surgery.

The doctor had reassured them they’ll do everything they can for Carlos, and those words weigh heavily on TK’s shoulders. He knows nothing is guaranteed, knows no promises can be made.

His head falls forward, his chin hitting his chest as he pleads and pleads that Carlos’s time isn’t up, that Carlos won’t be ripped away from him. Because this can’t be Carlos’s end, this can’t be their end. They’ve only just begin, there’s still so much he wants to do with Carlos, so much he wants to see and experience with him.

TK pleads that the I love you he just spoke won’t be the last time, or the last thing, he tells Carlos.

TK is looking at the elevator long after the doors have closed and he feels a hand land on his shoulder, the same way it had earlier at the bar.

“Come on, TK,” Tommy’s speaks in her motherly tone. “They said we can go to the waiting room on the surgical floor.”

TK nods, but makes no indication of movement. It’s when he sees Tommy and Nancy move towards the elevator that he does move, but in the direction of the stairs.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll take the stairs,” he says.

“Okay,” Tommy nods. “The stairs it is.”

TK turns to see Mitchell rushing over, and she quickly notices the drop in the paramedic’s shoulders.

“Is he…”

“They just took him to surgery,” TK tells her.

She nods, the concern for her partner clear on her face.

They climb the floors in silence, the echo of their boots on each step the only sound until they reach the surgical floor, easily finding the waiting room near the nurse’s station. They file in, TK dropping into one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs and resting his elbows on his tights. He leans forward, his hands folding into each other and he closes his eyes, sucking in a deep breath.

He opens them and stares at his hand a few moments later, his stomach churning unnaturally at all the blood coating his skin, Carlos’s blood. He shudders and looks up when a few wet wipes appear in his vision.

Nancy is standing in front of him, holding them out with a sympathetic expression on her face. He gratefully accepts them and starts wiping the blood, the wipes turning pink with each stroke.

Once he’s finished, Nancy disposes the wipes in the trash, returning and taking a seat next to her partner. TK’s leg starts bouncing, his nervous energy palpable and evident in his movements and in the way he worries his bottom lip between his teeth.

“I, uh,” TK breaks the silence, his voice small and low. “I need to call Carlos’s parents. I’ll be right back,” he gets up and walks out of the room, and with one more look in the direction of the operating rooms, makes his way downstairs and outside.

The sun is still hanging high in the sky when TK steps out of the emergency room entrance. It hasn’t been an hour since the paramedics arrived at the bar, but it feels like it's been a lifetime for him. It’s hot and the atmosphere is sticky with humidity, his Austin Fire t-shirt under his uniform clinging uncomfortably to his body.

He fishes his phone out of his pocket and opts to sit down on a nearby bench, opening his phone contacts and finding Andrea’s. His finger hovers over her name for a few moments as he steadiest himself, bringing the phone up to his ear once it starts ringing.

The line comes to life after a few rings, and the words get caught in TK’s throat.

“TK!” Andrea greets, her voice cheery and upbeat. “How are you, amor?”

“Mrs. Reyes,” TK starts and then pauses, letting out a shaky sigh. “Andrea…”

Andrea immediately picks up on TK’s broken tone, the concern hugging her next words. “TK, are you okay?”

“Yes, ma’am, I’m okay, it’s…” TK’s voice quivers. “It’s Carlos. He…we were on a call and he got hurt.”

“Dios mio,” Andrea breaths out and TK can hear hustling in the background now. “What happened?”

“It all happened so quickly…we got called to a bar fight, and PD was already there, and Carlos and his partner were talking to two men. It seems like the fight was over but it suddenly started again and Carlos was in the middle of it,” TK sniffs, letting the tears run down his face. “We’re at the hospital now, I don’t—I can’t—” he hiccups.

“Breathe, TK. Take a breath,” Andrea guides him.

TK can hear the strength in Andrea’s voice, but he can also tell it wavers a little, the worry apparent alongside the steadiness.

“I’m sorry,” TK recovers. “I’m okay.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for, TK. And Carlitos will be okay, too,” Andrea replies. “He’s strong.”

TK holds onto her words with everything he’s got. He knows those words are for him, just as much as they are for her, as well.

TK nods, and it momentarily slips his mind that Andrea can’t see him. “Yes, ma’am. He’s the strongest person I know.”

“That’s it,” Andrea says. “Now tell me, which hospital are you at?”

TK returns to the waiting room after hanging up with Andrea, his eyes going a little wide with surprise when Owen and Judd get to their feet at his reappearance.

“Dad? Judd? What…” “I called them,” Tommy supplies from her seat. “It goes without saying that you’re off duty now, and we thought Owen should be with you.”

“But doesn’t your shift start soon?” Owen shakes his head. “I’m staying right here, Judd’s going to be Acting Captain during this shift.”

Deflated and drained, TK doesn’t find it in him to argue.

“I was on the phone with Judd when Tommy called and when I told him,” Owen starts.

“I wanted to be here to see how you were holding up, and to be here for Carlos, too,” Judd continues.

A ghost of a smile passes over TK’s face. “Thanks, Judd. That means everything.”

“Always, brother,” Judd replies, wrapping TK in a warm embrace.

TK feels like a little boy in Judd’s arms, holding onto the Texan and drawing strength from him. Judd tightens his grip on TK, knowing the younger man needs it and pats him on the shoulder a few times. TK nods against Judd’s shoulder in understanding.

*****

“I’m sorry.”

TK frowns, turning to face the source of the words.

“What are you talking about?” TK asks Mitchell.

They’ve been alone for twenty minutes; Judd had to leave for shift, while Tommy and Nancy got a call soon after and left, but not before TK promising to call or text if he needs anything and to update them on Carlos’s condition. Owen had left a little after that, on a quest to find food. Which had left TK and Mitchell sitting in silence.

“This is all my fault,” Mitchell shakes her head. “I didn’t see it, I was right there and…I let Carlos down, I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, no,” TK gets up from his seat and moves to the one next to her. “This wasn’t your fault, and you didn’t let him down. I know you always have his back, and that makes it a little easier watching him go to work every day. This…this is only one person’s fault, and it’s that man’s who intentionally hurt Carlos.”

Mitchell’s gaze remains on the floor, unable to look into TK’s eyes. “I was right there,” she repeats. “I should have seen it. I was right next to him. I can’t help but wonder if I had just been quicker…”

“It was chaos, everything was happening so quickly and it was a blur. I don’t even think Carlos saw it coming. It…came out of nowhere,” TK sighs. “I was watching you both and I looked away for one second, and I keep wondering if I just hadn’t looked away…maybe I would have seen it,” he confesses. “I was further away, maybe I would have caught it. The man moving to grab the knife or something.”

Mitchell does raise her head then and looks at TK, finding identical unshed tears in his eyes as in hers.

TK sighs again. “The truth is, what ifs aren’t going to help us now, and they won’t make this any easier. They’ll just drive us down a spiral that has no end, trust me, I know. All we have to focus on now is Carlos. He’s going to be okay.” TK turns to look out into the nearly empty hallway. “He has to be,” he whispers.

He sees Mitchell nod from the corner of his eye.

Mitchell was gone by the time Owen returns, carrying a couple of brown paper bags and three cups of what TK can tell is iced tea.

Owen frowns when he only sees his son there. “Where did Officer Mitchell go?”

“She had to leave, their Captain called. He needed her at the precinct to take her statement about what happened,” TK answers. “She’ll be back as soon as she can.”

Owen nods, setting everything on the table in the middle of the room and hands TK a cold cup.

“Thanks,” TK gratefully accepts the beverage and takes a small sip, reveling the coolness running down his parched throat.

“You should eat something,” Owen gestures to the paper bags.

“Maybe in a little bit, I’m not really hungry,” TK shakes his head.

Owen purses his lips but doesn’t push, instead he settles for a nod and a gentle pat to TK’s shoulder.

TK is nearly done with his iced tea when hurried footsteps break the drape of silence that had fallen on him and his father.

He looks up and sees Andrea through the glass window, a moment before she’s stepping into the room, her handbag clutched tightly at her side, brown eyes wide and face heavy with worry.

“TK, Owen,” she pants as both men get to their feet. “Any news yet?”

Owen shakes his head. “He’s been in there a while, we should be getting an update soon.”

Andrea nods and throws a glance over her shoulder in the direction of the big swinging doors. She sighs, turning back to look at TK, but he isn’t looking at her.

Instead, TK is looking down at his hands hanging in the air at his middle, busying themselves as he anxiously runs his fingers over each other.

“TK,” Andrea says softly as she approaches him. “Look at me, amor.”

Slowly, TK lifts his gaze to Andrea’s, a tear rolling down his cheek.

She gives him a small, sad smile and cups his face, wiping away the fallen tear. “It’s going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay.”

That’s all it takes for the dam inside TK to break, a sob tearing from his throat as his body shakes with the force of his tears.

“Come here,” Andrea whispers, placing her hand at the nape of TK’s neck and gently pulls him towards her.

He goes easily, returning the embrace as she wraps him in a hug and soothingly runs her other hand up and down his back.

“I got to him as fast as I could,” TK says, voice muffled against Andrea’s blouse.

“I know in my heart you did everything for our Carlitos,” Andrea replies as she pulls back, but keeps TK close.

“I wish,” he sniffs. “I wish I could have done more.”

“From what Tommy told me,” Owen’s voice comes from behind them, “you did everything in your power for him, TK. You saved his life.”

TK drops his head. “If I had seen the knife…maybe we wouldn’t be in this situation right now. Carlos would be safe, not in surgery.”

“You can’t put that weight on your shoulders, TK,” Andrea says.

TK then realizes that Andrea doesn't know the details of what happened. He meets her eyes and after a moment, explains. “He was…stabbed in the middle of that fight. I was far away from it, I didn’t take my eyes off him the whole time but I looked away for one second and that’s all it took. Maybe if I hadn’t looked away…”

Andrea is shaking her head, a tear sliding down her face but she keeps her attention on TK. “You got to him as quick as you can, remember? I hate that Carlitos got hurt, it aches my heart, but I’m glad you were right there, and I’m glad it was you, that you were by his side, doing whatever needed to be done to make sure he comes out of this okay. From what I’m hearing, it’s true, you saved my mijo, TK. And he’s going to pull through.”

TK nods and moves in for another hug, he and Andrea taking comfort and support from each other, leaning on one another. Their strong hold on each other is the only thing keeping them from shattering right then and there.

***** The silence, save for the beeping of the heart monitor, is eerie and daunting in Carlos’s hospital room.

TK’s been sitting by Carlos’s bedside for a little over ten minutes, but he hasn’t been able to utter a single word since falling into the chair situated by the bed.

It was two agonizing hours after Andrea’s arrival that a very exhausted doctor entered the waiting room and called for the family of Carlos Reyes. Perhaps TK’s silence had something to do with him still digesting the doctor’s report.

It was touch and go for a while but he made it through. Significant blood loss. Concerns about infection. Low blood pressure. Part of the colon was perforated but was successfully repaired. Jagged entry. Will leave a scar. Expected to make a full recovery with time.

TK focuses on the expected to make a full recovery portion of the report, not daring to believe any other outcome. It’s difficult, though, watching Carlos so still in front of him. The officer is a calm sleeper, but there are always small movements here and there, a soft sigh, a little twist and turn, an arm thrown over TK’s middle that pulls him close, and the absence of any of those movements is unnatural. Even his breathing is different.

TK takes small comfort in the fact that Carlos is breathing on his own, but it’s nothing like how he breaths while sleeping in their bed. The rhythm beats to a different drum, it’s not relaxed and peaceful in this hospital bed, it’s strained and on edge.

TK steadiest himself, reaching out and taking Carlos’s hand into his own, giving it a light squeeze, hoping the officer can feel it.

“Hi, baby,” TK starts but abruptly stops, taken a little aback by how gruff and heavy his voice sounds. He clears his throat before speaking again. “I’m right here, and you’re okay. The doctor told us everything went well and that you’ll be back on your feet in no time. Your mom is here, in the waiting room and your dad will be here soon, too. I…I really need you to pull through, babe. I need you. And I miss you. Come back to me, ‘Los,” TK brushes a soft kiss to Carlos’s forehead.

TK can’t help the disappointment that brews in his gut when he doesn’t get a response.

A gentle knock an hour later breaks TK from his haze, he looks to the door and sees Andrea and Gabriel standing there, meeting TK’s eyes for a moment before they drift to their son.

“Mr. and Mrs. Reyes, please come in,” TK says as he gets to his feet, hand still holding onto Carlos’s.

“How’s he doing?” Gabriel asks, his usual strong voice a little frail and low. The Ranger’s shoulders are fallen, too.

“He’s hanging in there,” TK reassures him. “His vitals are holding and he’s regaining color, all good signs.”

Andrea nods, stepping closer to the bed and cards her fingers through Carlos’s curls.

TK doesn’t want to leave Carlos’s side, but he knows his parents want and need some time with their son. Making up his mind, he looks at Andrea and then Gabriel.

“Please stay for as long as you need,” TK says. “I’ll go home to freshen up, change and pack a bag for Carlos and I.”

“TK…” Andrea tries but TK is quick to gently shake his head.

“You need some time with him,” he says with a small smile. “And I’m sure he’d love to hear your voices.” TK leans down and plants a kiss to Carlos’s cheek. “I’ll be back in a bit, babe.”

Gabriel squeezes TK’s shoulder when he walks by him, and TK replies with a nod in understanding, smile still on his face.

“And TK,” Andrea speaks before TK leaves the room. “Please try to eat something, too. You barely touched the food your father bought earlier.”

“Yes,” Gabriel agrees. “You have to keep your strength up, for your sake and for Carlitos’s. To take care of him.”

TK gives them another nod and his smile widens a little. With a last glance at Carlos, he leaves.

*****

The sun is climbing in the sky when it happens.

TK had given up on sleep, opting to walk around the room for a while to stretch his tired muscles before settling back in the chair next to Carlos’s bed. He’s scrolling aimlessly through his Instagram feed when his eyes catch the movement.

At first, he thinks his brain is playing a trick on him. Or maybe it’s the not sleeping. But then it happens again, and that has TK sitting up straight in his place, leaning forward towards Carlos.

“Carlos? Baby, can you hear me?” TK speaks, his voice a little rough around the edges.

He holds his breath as he watches Carlos wrinkle his nose, as he sometimes does before waking up. A few moments pass and then Carlos is slowly opening his eyes, finding TK’s through his blurry vision.

“TK?” Carlos whispers, his voice hoarse.

“Yeah, I’m here, baby, I’m right here,” TK smiles at his boyfriend, eyes beginning to fill with tears. “You’re okay.”

TK reaches out and cups Carlos’s face, tenderly caressing his cheek. A tear rolls down TK’s face when Carlos leans into his touch, and feeling Carlos’s warmth against his skin lights up the flame inside him, the one that was dimmed the moment Carlos got hurt.

“What…” Carlos trails off as he swallows.

“You got hurt on a call, babe, but you’re okay now. You’re safe. I’m right here, I got you,” TK reassures him.

“You…always do,” Carlos gives TK the strongest smile he could muster.

“And I always will,” TK promises. “Get some more rest, baby. I’ll be right here when you wake up again.”

Carlos nods weakly. “I love you,” he expresses as his eyes begin to close.

“I love you, too,” TK reciprocates, bringing Carlos’s hand up to his lips and brushes a kiss to his knuckles.

And for the first time since he watched Carlos sway at that bar, TK can finally properly breathe.

*****

“Looking good, babe,” TK smiles from where he’s standing in the doorway of their bedroom, leaning against the doorframe.

Carlos smiles back, catching TK’s eyes in the mirror in front of him.

“Fits the same,” Carlos says, adjusting his name tag pinned to his uniform.

TK nods and steps into the bedroom, walking over to his boyfriend and wraps his arms around his middle from behind, pulling him into his chest.

Carlos leans back, placing his arms over TK’s as TK rests his chin on the officer’s shoulder.

They watch each other in the mirror as a comfortable silence settles over them and then TK moves his head slightly to place a kiss to Carlos’s clothed shoulder.

Then TK’s eyes roam down to Carlos’s stomach and he can almost see the hidden scar underneath the layers of Carlos’s uniform.

“I’ll be fine, Ty,” Carlos whispers, knowing very well where TK’s thoughts are taking him. “Everything checked out and I’ve been cleared for active duty.”

TK nods, but his eyes remain fixed where they are, and now TK can see the scar in his mind, etched into his memory along with the fear of almost losing the love of his life.

It’s his day off, and TK had hoped he’d be working the day Carlos went back into the field, just for the possibility of seeing him on calls and making sure he was okay with his own eyes.

The weeks following Carlos’s injury weren’t easy, for either of them. A bad infection had set in shortly after Carlos had woken up, which warranted a few more days at the hospital. Once the infection was treated, Carlos was cleared to go home, with strict instructions to take it slow and easy and to have someone with him for at least the first week of his recovery. TK took time off, staying by Carlos’s side, and still shaken up himself, didn’t stray far for both their sakes. He, too, needing to make sure Carlos was okay, that the worst was over and behind them.

He had to return to work eventually, Carlos constantly telling him that I’ll be okay, I’ll call if I need anything. I don’t want to keep you from work, from people who need your help more than I do now. Which TK promptly replied to with I’m exactly where I want and need to be, babe.

TK and Andrea worked out a schedule a week later, to make sure Carlos was always taken care of and someone was close by as he healed.

Carlos did eventually begin to lean on others and to ask for help when he needed it throughout his recovery, which made Andrea and TK breathe a little easier.

It was hard for TK to leave him, his mind constantly on Carlos when they weren’t on a call. He always looked forward to going home to Carlos and taking him into his arms.

After a few trips to the doctor’s and reassurances that Carlos was healing up well, he was assigned to desk duty. He wasn’t the biggest fan of it but he was glad it meant one step closer to getting back into the field.

TK had his own reserves about that, trying to breach the conversation with Carlos but the words seemed to always stop in his throat. Until one night, while cuddling on the couch watching a movie, the words just spilled out of TK’s mouth.

I’m scared for you. I’ve always been scared for you but that day…I mean, knowing it could happen and actually seeing it happen are two different things and babe…

Carlos understood. I know how scary it was that day. I was scared. And there are no guarantees, in both our lines of work. I can’t promise that nothing is going to happen, but I can and will promise that I will always fight my hardest to come home to you. Every day.

After a final check up and a physical exam, Carlos was cleared for active duty two weeks later.

Which is how they find themselves wrapped in each other’s embrace, Carlos getting ready for his first shift back out there.

“Just…be careful, please,” TK says, lifting his eyes to meet Carlos’s beautiful brown ones.

Carlos breaks out of TK’s hold then, turning around to face the younger man and takes his face gently into his hands, both thumbs running over his cheekbones.

“I promise,” Carlos vows.

Carlos leans in, closing the distance between them with a soft kiss. It’s not urgent or heated, it’s calm and grounding, filled with reassurance and love.

TK smiles against Carlos’s lips as he returns it, getting lost in his boyfriend, soaking up everything Carlos is offering and giving his own.

Their foreheads touch when they pull back and they breathe together. They feel each other and their love, anchoring each other.

TK’s hand gravitates to Carlos’s middle, to the location of the scar and his fingers brush lightly against the fabric covering it. Like his own bullet scar, it’s a reminder of how close he and Carlos had gotten to losing each other, how close they had gotten to losing this. But thinking back to that moment on the couch, TK takes comfort in knowing he and Carlos would do anything and everything in their power to come back to one another.

TK believes in them, believes in their love. And while he gazes into Carlos’s eyes now, getting lost in his captivating brown irises, knows beyond a doubt that Carlos does, too.

That knowledge gives TK the strength to brush another soft kiss to Carlos’s lips and then pulls back, making sure his boyfriend’s uniform is pristine.

“I’ll be right here when you come back home,” TK cups Carlos’s cheek.

Carlos seals the promise with a kiss to the inside of TK’s palm.

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ive-been-worse · 3 years ago

Text

Liable PT 2

Word Count: 2,419

Warning: Violence, blood, knives, hospitals, close calls, mentions of anxiety/panic, let me know if I missed any.

A/N: this is part two to a different post. It's long, I can't write cases, kinda angsty but it has a happy ending. Enjoy

“Can you believe it?” You point your spoon at no one in particular. “A ‘liability’! God!” You let out a sardonic laugh and viciously dig into your ice cream.

You, Emily, JJ, and Penny are having girls’ night. Yes, you’re a little tipsy and definitely not over anything.

Emily shakes her head while JJ pours more wine for everyone.

“Y/N/N, you know you aren’t a liability. You’re damn good at your job and Hotch was full of shit,” Em doesn’t normally bash the boss but she’s a little more than tipsy too.

“You know what it is?” Penny butts in, “He likes youuuuuuu.”

Her words elicit a scoff from you, “As if.” Heat rose in your cheeks.

“No, she’s right. Everyone can see it. Hotch totally has a thing for you!” JJ exclaims, spilling a little of her wine. “Come on, are you seriously saying you’ve never noticed how much he hovers over you?”

“Or stiffens whenever you’re with an unsub?” Em adds.

“Or how he almost flinches everytime you call him ‘Agent Hotchner’,” Penny giggles.

“And, you like him too!” JJ says with a sudden seriousness.

You shake your head. As much as you want to deny JJ’s words, you can’t. Your crush has been blooming for a long time. It’s part of the reason why you’re taking this sudden cold front from your boss so hard. If only you knew what to do.

***

“Aaron, you gotta tell her,” was the first thing Dave said after sneaking into Hotch’s office.

“Tell who what, Dave?” Aaron asked. He didn’t have to ask. Dave was talking about you, just like he has been the last multiple times Dave has sought him out.

“Y/N. You know she’s a good agent. She deserves to know that.”

“Is that all?” Aaron has yet to look up from his paperwork.

“‘Is that all?’” Dave repeats, “No, first, it’s affecting the team. Everyone can see that. There’s so much tension between you two. After you fix that, you should also tell her how you feel.”

“Enough, there’s nothing to tell,” Aaron pinches the bridge of his nose, “I’ll handle it, okay?”

“You better.”

***

Hotch had kept you out of the field for seven cases. Seven. Working from Quantico was killing you and you had a newfound respect for Penny. That’s why you jumped, literally jumped, at the chance to finally go on a case with the team. However, you’re confined to the police precinct. Not ideal, but you’ll take what you can get. So while the team is gathering information in the field, you’re working on the geographical profile.

Unfortunately, geographical profiles are not your strong suit. More unfortunately, you’ve determined that there’s not enough information to make one. With a sigh, you push yourself away from the desk and make your way to the mediocre coffee station.

A young officer approaches with a smile, “What a case, right?”

You look him over. This case is probably the worst he’s seen. He’s not too bad on the eyes. Not quite your type. You shake your head as the thought of your boss flits through your mind. Giving the officer a small smile, “That’s your opening?”

Red blooms across his cheeks as he shrugs and rubs the back of his neck. “I had to start with something. I’m John,” his hand comes out between you two.

“I’m Y/N, nice to meet you,” he grips your hand a little too hard.

The door to the precinct opens. Hotch, Emily, and Reid come in. They were at the latest crime scene.

Nodding your head at your team, “That’s my cue.”

You take your leave but John stops you. “How about you and I take some time and I’ll buy you a better coffee?”

“I can’t. We have to solve this case. That’s my priority,” It’s a little harsh but that’s what you’re here to do in the first place so that’s what you’re going to do.

“L/N,” Hotch calls.

“I’m coming,” you take your coffee and go to them. “What did you find?”

“Her friends report some guy talking to her at the bar they went to the night before she went missing. Apparently he kept trying to get her to go somewhere with him.” Hotch fills you in.

“Let me guess, she kept turning him down?” You fill in, earning a nod from your boss.

“How’s the geographical profile?” Reid asks.

“You’re welcome to take a shot at it but there’s not enough.”

This time it’s Emily who speaks, “We need another victim.”

And you got one that night.

The next day you're able to finish the profile. Right as you do, coffee is set on your desk. You look up to see John. “Thank you,” you tell him. Relief filling you at the thought of caffeine.

“You looked like you could use it,” he smiled at you. Taking a sip you looked up in surprise. The coffee was exactly how you like it. “I- uh - I noticed how you took it yesterday while we were talking.” John rubbed the back of his neck and you nodded.

“We’re ready to give the profile.” Hotch announced over the room to gather everyone’s attention. It didn’t take long for everyone to get ready.

“We believe that the unsub is a young male, in his twenties to thirties,” Hotch started.

“He’ll probably try to inject himself in this investigation if he hasn’t already,” Morgan went next.

Your turn, “Given the places the victims are taken from and the dump sites, the unsub’s comfort zone is in this area,” you gesture to the map, “Meaning he either lives or works somewhere in the area.” The rest of the profile goes smoothly.

After, you take a step outside, needing to clear your head. The door opens and there’s footsteps. You turn to talk to the person. A butt of a gun slams into your head. You feel the shock.

Everything goes black.

***

You come too in a dark place and you can’t make anything out. You can hear a flip get switched and the lights flicker on above you. Squinting against the harsh light, you try to orient yourself. You take inventory. You’re sitting. Killer headache, probably a concussion. There’s something wet on your temple. You go to wipe it away only to discover your hands are bound behind you. Ankles similarly tied but to the legs of the chair.

Trying to fight the panic setting in, you take a deep breath and look around. Knives line the wall in all different sizes. Pictures of the previous victims are hung on the wall with some sort of writing by them.

The unsub walks into the room. He has an old camera with him. It’s flash blinds you. You turn your head away from the flash. When you look back, the unsub’s back is to you and he’s hanging the picture he just took on the wall. He looks familiar. You can’t place him until he turns around.

John.

John with a knife.

John with a knife, and he's coming toward you.

***

“He uses a knife so he’s likely impotent but there’s nothing else that implies this is sexual for him,” Morgan rubs his temples.

“The multiple stab wounds are all done before the kill. So he’s sadistic,” Rossi adds.

JJ enters the room, a worried look on her face. “Y/N isn’t here. I’ve checked with the hotel and they haven’t seen her since we left. She’s not answering her phone.”

“What do you mean she isn’t here?” Rossi asks.

“No one knows where she went,” JJ says.

“Guys,” Reid enters the room, holding up a phone. Your phone.

“She wouldn’t leave with just anyone. Y/N’s careful.” Rossi scrubs his face.

“She probably didn’t go willingly. It’s broken.” Reid tells them, setting the phone on the table.

“I’ll call Hotch,” Morgan stands, leaving the room.

***

Coughs tear through you. Blood dribbles out, dripping onto your already ruined shirt. You turn your head and spit, trying to clear your mouth from the coppery liquid.

“You couldn’t have just said yes? It was just coffee. But no you couldn’t do that could you!” John lets out a deranged laugh. “You’re just like the others. So stuck up you won’t give anyone a chance.” The knife he wields sinks into your abdomen and you bite your lip to keep in the pained gasp. “We could have been happy together. You’d have to give up your job though. This isn’t a line of work for a lady.”

That line. You’d been hearing that line since you joined the BAU. You’re so tired of it. His face is so close. You spit and it lands on his cheek. A strange sense of satisfaction fills you as the bloody saliva trails down his jaw.

John wipes it off, “You’re going to regret that.” His fist hits the side of your head, sending ringing through your skull.

“No,” you cough up more blood. “You’ll regret this. My team will find you and you will pay.”

“Too bad you won’t be alive to see it.”

***

You were barely conscious when they found you. Your breaths are shallow. You don’t know what happened, what went down. All you know is that suddenly, you’re not in that chair anymore. You’re not there, and someone is being loud. Someone is yelling. You try to open your eyes to see who.

“Hotch,” it comes out weak. Barely a whisper. Your hand goes up on its own accord to wipe his tears, leaving a streak of red in its wake. “Why are you crying?” Suddenly your hand falls back to your side and you turn your head.

“Y/N! Hey Y/N! Stay with me!” His hand turns your head to look at him. His hands are so big. He’s warm. So warm. After you had been so cold.

“You’re so handsome, Hotch. So handsome,” it slurred out. Everything goes back once more.

***

The team is waiting anxiously at the hospital. Most of the cuts are shallow but the ones that aren’t caused you to need emergency surgery. They’re bad, more than enough to cause worry.

“She’ll make it. Y/N is strong. She’ll make it,” Emily sounds like she’s trying to convince herself.

Reid has his head in his hands.

Morgan is pacing.

Garcia rushes into the waiting room when she gets there, “How is she?”

“She’s in emergency surgery,” Rossi answers.

She collapses into a nearby chair.

Hours drip by. One after another. Someone convinces Hotch to change, get out of the bloodstained suit. Someone else gets everyone coffee, or a snack. No one touches those.

The more time passes the more everyone gets worried. When the doctor comes out, it’s too soon and not soon enough all at the same time. “She’s stable,” everything they say after is a blur from the relief. “You’re welcome to see her when she wakes up.”

It’s an hour later when a nervous looking nurse comes in the waiting room. “Are you for Y/N L/N?” Everyone stands nodding. “She’s- uh- she’s asking for an Agent Hotchner?”

“That’s me,” Hotch steps forward.

“Follow me. Uh- the rest of you can see her in a little while,” the nurse sent a smile to the rest of the team.

***

The light was bright in the hospital. The doctor was telling you what happened but you didn’t hear any of it.

The door opens and Hotch rushes to your side, “Y/N!” He scans you over, eyes stopping on every bandage.

“Hotch,” your hand covers his to get his attention. “What happened?”

“I- We almost lost you. It was bad. You lost a lot of blood,” he tries to fight back the tears.

“I’m sorry. I should have been more careful. I should have realized-”

“No!” His voice comes out startlingly loud. He makes an effort to soften it. “No. This isn’t your fault. No one blames you.”

You let out a self-deprecating laugh, “Sure. No one blames me. They all just think I’m a liability right?” The word slips out before you can stop it.

Liability. The same one he used before. It felt like a knife to the gut.

“No. No. No. You’re not a liability. It was wrong of me to say that. God, Y/N, you could never be a liability. You’re an amazing agent. You never would have made it if you weren’t. I never should have said that. I was worried. You were with that unsub all by yourself for god knows how long and could have been seriously hurt. It was wrong. I never meant it,” He was rambling. He knew. Hotch could also feel the tears track down his face.

“You mean it?” Your voice comes out small and weak, you fight back your own tears.

Hotch nods rapidly. “Every word. When this happened. I was so scared Y/N. I can’t lose you.” His head falls to the mattress, trying to hide the tears.

You take a deep breath and decide to try your luck. Today has to be a day of defeating odds. “Aaron,” that causes his head to shoot up. It’s your first time calling him by his name. “Aaron, look, I gotta tell you. I can’t just make it through that and keep quiet about this anymore, who knows about the time. Oh boy, I just- ah- I like you Aaron. More than I probably should, given that you’re my boss but it’s true,” you refuse to meet his eyes, scared of what you’d see.

“Y/N,” he pauses, “Y/N look at me,” his voice is gentle, coaxing you to meet his eyes. He smiles despite the tears. “I like you too. I’ve tried to hide it for so long. I did, but I can’t do it anymore.”

You laugh and then grimace from the pain radiating in your chest. You brush off Hotch’s concern. “I’m fine. If we do this though, we have to do it right. Not just getting together because of the high of relief that we both probably feel. Okay?”

“Of course, we’ll take it slow.”

Despite everything, you’re happy right now. On painkillers, and definitely traumatized, but right now, in this moment, you’re happy. It only gets better when the rest of your team, the best friends you have, flood the room. Everyone is high on the relief of survival and all-in-all, it could only be better if you weren’t stuck in the hospital.

#aaron hotch x reader #hotch x reader #criminal minds #angst #happy ending

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teenwolffan-with-nolife · 4 years ago

Text

The Witch and The Wolf Pt.58

Word Count: 2,427

Characters: Derek Hale, Braeden (someone plz tell me her last name), Stiles Stilinski, Malia Hale (mentioned), Scott McCall, Deaton, Jordan Parrish, Noah Stilinski, Melissa McCall, Kate Argent (mentioned), Peter Hale, Meredith Walker, Reader

Pairings: Derek Hale x Witch!Reader

Warnings: angst, cliffhanger

A/N: i don’t want anyone to @ me i’ve had the ending planned before i started writing the series

Masterlist Series Masterlist

You laid awake on your bed, feeling Derek’s body moving slightly with every breath he took. His arm was wrapped around your waist, with his back against yours. It was somehow impossible for you to be able to fall asleep.

You stroked Derek’s arm, before carefully turning to face him, trying not to wake him. Seeing him there with you always brought you comfort, even when you felt terrible. This was by far the longest you two had been together for, without any fighting or arguments.

You could feel sadness rising in your chest, watching his powers leave him. He was still dying. You ran your fingers through your hair, trying to shake off that thought, it was the only thing on your mind.

He opened his eyes, tilting his head downwards to make eye contact with you.

“It gets creepier and creepier every time you watch me sleep,” he replied.

You scoffed, wrapping your arms around him tightly.

“You just ruined a good moment,” you replied.

“Yeah, okay. What time is it?” you turned to check your phone, before shooting up.

You had texts from Scott and Stiles, and Lydia, along with a couple of missed calls.

“What? What is it?” Derek asked, moving next to you.

“I need to go,” you said.

“Wait, I’ll come with you,” he nodded.

“No, don't. Just stay here. I’ll see you in a bit,” you began to get out of bed, quickly grabbing a pair of clothes.

“(Y/N),” he started.

“I’ll see you in a bit,” you pressed a kiss to his cheek, before grabbing your phone and wallet, running out.

---

“Stiles!” you ran into his room, wrapping your arms around him.

“I should've gone with you two! Are you okay?” you asked, immediately scanning him for injuries.

“I’m fine! Melissa isn't letting me go,” he shook his head.

“Why not?” you asked.

Melissa walked in, crossing her arms.

“Brunski hit him in the head repeatedly. He says he’s fine but the doctor ordered more tests and I think he needs to rest,” Melissa explained.

“I’m fine!” he groaned.

“Stiles, sit down and shut up. Listen to her, she’s literally a nurse,” you replied.

“But-”

“No buts,” you flashed your purple eyes at him while he groaned, sitting back on the bed.

You rolled your eyes, before walking out with Melissa.

You put your arms around your stomach, holding in a gag.

“Are you okay?” she put her hand on your shoulder.

“Mhm… what is that smell?” you replied, strained.

“Well, I don’t smell anything that could make you sick,” she shook her head.

You inhaled, before sighing.

“It smells like blood,” you shook your head.

“Well, I mean we are in a hospital,” she laughed softly before patting your back.

“Are you sure you're okay?” she asked again.

“Yeah, I just feel a little sick. But it's nothing too bad,” you said.

She nodded, giving you a look before shaking it off.

“I will text Malia. She could probably get Stiles to stay here for a while,” you explained.

“Where are you gonna go?” she asked.

“I’m going to Deaton’s and then probably to the station, it looks like Kira found Satomi’s pack,” you explained.

“Are you sure you don't want to rest for a little bit?” Melissa asked.

“All of these kids aren't getting any sleep, why would I?” you shrugged.

She sighed, before patting your back softly.

“Stay safe,” you gave her a small hug before making your way to Deaton’s.

---

“I think we should leave now,” Scott replied.

“I still think we should wait for the sun to come up,” you stood in front of him, waiting in the clinic.

“I agree with (Y/N) on this one, we don't know how many hunters and assassins are still out there, and after what happened yesterday, we don’t know who’s safe or who’s not,” Kira nodded her head.

You looked inside, taking a quick look at Satomi, Brett, Lori, and the rest of their pack. They were all gathered, talking in whispers.

“Fine. Did you text Argent yet?” Scott asked.

“I texted him but he hasn’t replied. I’m sure he won’t mind,” you shrugged.

“Yeah, okay. Oh, also, Deaton said he wants to talk to you,” Scott motioned to the room in the back, Deaton’s private office.

You raised an eyebrow, before nodding softly, making your way to his office, knocking softly on the door.

“Come in,” he replied.

“You wanted to see me?” you asked, poking your head in.

“Oh, yes. I’ve gotten about ten texts from a certain someone about you,” he started.

You raised an eyebrow, while he showed you his phone screen.

“Oh my god, he’s crazy,” you muttered, running your fingers through your hair.

“Well, is he wrong?” Deaton asked, leaning on his table.

“I mean… he might not be wrong,” you muttered, avoiding his gaze.

“I’m going to run some tests on you, okay?” he asked.

“What? No, there’s no reason. I feel fine,” you shook your head.

“Well, Derek’s not gonna take no for an answer,” he raised an eyebrow.

“Well, it’s my body, not his,” you gave a fake smile while Deaton sighed.

“Let me prove that it’s nothing to him, and maybe he’ll leave you alone.”

You groaned, crossing your arms before sighing.

“Okay fine,” you said.

“Good, now follow me.”

---

“Lydia,” she jumped up as you called her name, opening her eyes.

“Did you go home last night?” you asked, taking the seat next to her in the sheriff’s station.

“No, I’m not leaving Meredith here,” she replied.

You peaked inside Sheriff Stilinski’s office, seeing people with equipment talking to her.

“What’s going on now?” you asked.

“Sheriff Stilinski’s trying to get her to talk, but she isn't talking to anyone. He won’t let me talk to her either.”

“Why not?”

“Something with her being unpredictable and whatnot.”

“But… you’re a banshee and she’s a banshee. Don’t you guys like, trust in each other or something?”

“Tell that to him.”

“Yeah, I will.”

She raised an eyebrow as you saw Sheriff Stilinski come out of his office, turning to you and Lydia.

“She refuses to talk to anyone,” he crossed his arms.

“Well, why not let us talk to her?” you asked.

“I already said no to Lydia, don’t make me explain it to you too, (Y/N),” Noah replied in an annoyed tone.

“But Meredith has talked to Lydia before when she wasn't talking to anyone else. And Meredith can't hurt her if someone else is there and she’s protected,” you replied.

Sheriff Stilinski sighed, before shaking his head.

“Forget it. The two of you aren’t going in.”

---

You heard Noah sigh from behind the two of you, while Lydia took a seat across from Meredith.

“You used Brunski, right?” Lydia started.

Meredith continued looking down, away from everyone else.

“You knew he’d killed people and he’d do it again. He used my grandmother’s code for the Deadpool, and he’s the one who put it online,” you continued to look at Meredith, raising your eyebrow slightly as she remained stiff.

“He took the money from the Hale Vault, and then he turned the bearer bonds into cash. He made the payments,” you looked behind to Noah and Parrish, shrugging.

“Did you fake your death because he got you nervous? Because you helped?” she asked.

“I want to help,” Meredith spoke.

“Then do it. Tell us,” Lydia sighed.

“I want to talk to Peter,” you tensed immediately, sitting up before getting out of your chair.

“What?” you asked.

“I want to talk to Peter Hale,” she said again.

You shook your head, pulling Lydia aside.

“How does she know Peter?” you asked softly.

“How am I supposed to know?” Lydia raised an eyebrow.

“Well, we’re not calling him here,” you scoffed.

“She said she wants to talk to him. What if she doesn't talk to anyone else?” Lydia replied.

“What's so bad about Peter Hale?” Parrish asked while the two of you walked to him and Noah.

“What isn't bad about it? In simple terms, I would rather get stabbed by every single supernatural creature out there, I'd rather die 1,000 times than spend longer than 5 minutes with Peter Hale. He’s evil, he’s cold-hearted, he’s terrible, he’s-” you continued, anger pouring out of you before Lydia stopped you.

“I don’t think we have much of a choice,” Lydia sighed.

You looked back at Meredith, then at the time. You needed to be back at Argent’s hideout by night, and it was already nearly 3. You bit your lip, holding back your frustration before you nodded your head.

“Fine,” you said softly.

“How are we going to find him?” you asked.

“You don’t have his number?” Lydia frowned.

“Why would I? Do you?” you replied.

“He tried to kill me. Of course, I don't have his number!” she scoffed.

“And? Chris tried to kill me too, and I have his number memorized,” you replied.

“When did that happen?” Lydia frowned.

“Oh, it was-”

“Not helpful right now. (Y/N), text Derek or something and find out Peter’s number. Parrish, you can take Meredith to one of the interrogation rooms,” Noah interrupted you.

You sighed, before nodding your head, sending a text to Derek.

---

You bit your nail, looking through the one-way mirror to Peter sitting across from Meredith, and Parrish standing nearby as a guard.

You, Lydia, and Noah continued to watch their interaction.

“I can just have what's left of it,” Peter said, referring to his money.

Meredith reached forward, putting her hand on Peter's face while you saw him tense up.

Don't screw this up, Peter

He grabbed Meredith’s hand, before Parrish pulled out his gun, pointing it at Peter.

“Let her go! Now!” he yelled.

Peter clenched his jaw, before letting go of her hand.

“Your burns. They’re all gone,” your eyes widened, looking at Peter again.

“She does know him.”

---

“Are you two still training?” you asked Braeden, rubbing your neck softly.

“Well, not at the moment,” she replied.

“Okay… how is he doing?” you asked softly.

“He’s pretty weak, if I’m being honest with you,” you ran your fingers through your hair nervously, before pacing around the empty office.

“That's… okay,” you took deep breaths.

“There’s no reason to worry, though. He doesn't go anywhere without you or me. I have my guns, you have your thing. You’re getting really-”

“I know I worry a lot but how can I not?” you cut her off, before sighing.

All that was on your mind was Derek, and it was difficult to focus on anything else.

“Just take a breath. Look, we're gonna get back to training, okay?” she said.

You nodded before rolling your eyes, realizing she couldn’t see you.

“Yeah, I’ll see you later,” you hung up the phone, receiving a text from Deaton.

You heard Peter yelling, while you dropped your phone, running back into the interrogation room. Within an instant, Peter pushed Parrish aside, digging his nails into Meredith’s neck.

Shit!

You ran into the room, pulling Parrish back.

“Don’t touch him! He could kill her if something goes wrong,” you warned.

Noah and Parrish both placed their guns back into their pocket before Lydia walked next to Meredith.

“Can you hear her?” you asked.

She shook her head. You ran your fingers through your hair, before walking next to Peter.

“Cogitationes revelare,” your eyes glew purple as you put your hands on Peter’s head, looking into his mind.

“I told her, I warned her. I knew they were planning something and now everyone’s dead!” you heard Peter yelling, seeing Meredith in a hospital bed next to his paralyzed, scorched body.

You could see as Meredith covered her ears, trying to block out Peter’s words, while some form of Peter, possibly his soul, reached out for her, grabbing her hand.

“Talia made the family weak and weaker! We used to be feared, we used to be the Apex predators till Talia turned us into sheep,” he yelled.

“I swear on it… I’ll kill all supernaturals of Beacon Hills, witches, werewolves, wendigoes, all of them. I’ll create my own breed, and we’ll be on top!”

“With the money from the vault. I’ll pay them. Professional assassins, people like The Mute, The Chemist, I’ll even call in the Desert Wolf. When it comes to it, anyone can be corrupted by money.”

You took a step back from Peter, staring at the scene in shock before you felt your head began aching, pushing through more flashbacks.

You saw glimpses of Kate before you tensed up.

“Don’t kill Scott yet. That'll screw up the plan,” you heard him say.

The two of them stood in the sewers, while you clenched your jaw, breaking away from Peter.

You gasped softly, putting your hands on your head as you stumbled back. Your vision blurred, barely making out Lydia rushing to you before you fell out of consciousness.

---

You jumped up, immediately looking around the hospital room.

You exhaled softly, feeling a slight sense of relief as you ran your fingers through your hair.

You turned, about to get out of your bed before Melissa walked into the room.

“Mrs. McCall,” you said.

“It’s good to see you’re awake,” she gave you a small smile.

“Yeah, I feel fine,” you replied.

“Can I leave?” you asked.

“In a minute. Derek’s currently outside, I told him he could come in after I talked to you,” you frowned slightly as she motioned for you to get back in bed.

“I ran a few tests on you while you were asleep, per Deaton’s request. He’s going to be away for some time and sent me a call before,” you could feel slight panic rising in your chest as she stood in front of you.

“You’ve been getting sick, right? How often does it happen?” Melissa asked.

“Not… I mean sometimes in the morning, like right when I wake up, but sometimes it happens when I’m upset, I thought it was stress,” you replied.

“It’s not stress,” she said softly.

Your heart rate quickened, every aspect of Melissa’s words was causing you to worry.

“Am I dying?” you blurted out.

She laughed softly, shaking her head.

“Quite the opposite.”

You gave her a look, before raising an eyebrow.

“What the hell is the opposite of dying?” you asked.

“You really haven't figured it out yet?” she scoffed.

You gave her a confused look once again, before shaking your head. She sighed, crossing her arms.

“You’re pregnant, (Y/N).”

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imtheflash · 3 years ago

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Tw: how about a one shot where baby Danvers is depressed and her sisters help her through it?

I do not give you credit to repost translate to another site or take credit for my work.. I spend a lot of time on it and plagiarism sucks.

anon I didn't really know how to make it so depressing so I kinda just went with the flow and made it hurt comforty

You weren't surprised when you didn't hear from your sisters in a while. One was a part time superhero and the other was a DEO agent that had a lot on her plate.

It still hurt though, more than you'd like to admit. Though you tried to ignore it you felt guilty as if you could've helped them if you didn't turn down the job of leading the DEO's department of weaponry. You were an mechanical engineer and a damn good one at that so they thought that you could help the designing team with efficiency and the engineering team with the actual construction. You're 24 though, fresh out of college and working on starting up your own shop. It was your pride and joy, a place where you would fix almost anything brought to you.

A toy car Mr. Rogers's nephew accidently broke? Yeah you got it. A motor that isn't spinning in the right direction? Don't worry about it. A freezer that stopped freezing? No problem. You could fix almost anything and everything. And if you couldn't then they sure as hell could count on you figuring out how to help replace it.

You never considered that you could be broken. But you were, and it isn't something you could fix. No everyone knows that the only way to fix someone is with people. The bell on your the door shakes you out of your trance. "Welcome to the mechanic shop how can I- Alex! Kara! Hi!" You move out from behind the counter and go to hug your sisters feeling at peace from the battle raging inside your mind for the first time in a while.

"Hi! we haven't seen you in so long oh my gosh Alex look at the shop its changed so much! Did you put a new wallpaper up?" You chuckle at Kara's rambling at the new changes and take the liberty to pull your other sister into a hug reveling in her warmth.

"So how are you guys?" You ask both of them gleeful at seeing your sisters after such a long time. They exchanged a look that made you nervous. "Well I've been great with Kelly and all but Kara" Alex starts but Kara cuts her off before she can say anything else.

"But I have been doing great I published my first article and I finally have my own office. With a chair this time!" She exclaims it hurriedly, as if she was hiding something.

You squint your eyes at them "Okay. That's great and all but the gigs up. What's up with you"

They exchange another look before Kara turns to you.

"A group of Maxwell Lord's minions created a drone to shoot at me whenever I go to save someone and it has this weird cloaking technology that isn't hackable by Winn which is saying something 'cause y'know Winn is the best tech guy we have so we were thinking its something mechanical which is why we came to you and because you're the best engineer we know so we stole one of the drones and took apart the tracking pin so if you agreed you could disassemble it and stuff so if you maybe want to you could you know?"

"I-wait-I'm sorry what? Am evil flying drone? I- sure I guess I could take a look at it?" You shrug and ignore the pang in your chest when you realize they came to get something fixed not to actually talk to you like they used too. Like you all used too.

You take the drone from Kara's hands and look at it for a beat before heading to the back of your shop "I have to take it apart before I do any of the actual decoding of the insides.

You miss your sisters looking at each other again.

"Was that a bit weird to you too?" Alex mutters under her breath so you don't hear her

Kara nods looking at your form bent over a table with a screwdriver. "It was wasn't it? Usually they're bouncing around in the shop not so_"

"Sullen" Alex finished. "We should check on them more often?"

"Hey" Kara nudged Alex's with her hip "don't worry too much, they know they can come to us if they need too."

You meanwhile were working on the drone and trying to black out the voices. Useless. Failure. Why do they even bother with you? God knows you're useless to everything that isn't mechanical.

You're snapped out of your spell with a sharp pain in your hand. You look at it and realize that your hand with the screwdriver slipped while you were unscrewing the drones mainframe and stabbed your other hand causing it to bleed. You stand up straight and wince shaking your hand up and down while your sisters run over to you.

"Oh Rao what did you do to your hand!" Kara rushes up to you and clutches your hand from where you were standing previously.

"Uh I stabbed it a little. Don't worry its not deep a band-aid will cover it. You sigh as your sister continue to fuss over the wound. Didn't they realize you weren't worth it? When would they realize.

Once it has been deemed "workable" they let you get back to work.

By the time you get to the bottom of the problem its nearly sundown and your sisters have responsibilities to get to, no matter how happy the day has been for you compared to the others.

"I will drop this off at the DEO tomorrow I just need to finish figuring out the mechanics of it. I believe that if worked right you can un-cloak the drones via a remote.

"Okay! Well go to bed and don't worry about the drones to much" Both of your sisters hugged you and you walked them to the door flipping off the open sign.

You had figured out the cloaking mechanism in an hour.

You had skipped breakfast and lunch but a sour taste in your mouth left you going straight to bed after a closing down the shop, ignoring the pain that throbbed in your hand again.

The next morning you spent an hour creating the remote and loaded the drone into a backpack driving to the DEO.

Apparently Winn figured out how to amplify the drones signal enough to blah blah blah blah you didn't catch the rest of whatever he was saying. It worked and that's all that matters. You stood on the balcony of the DEO. You hated having to leave, even though you had work to do. Lost in your mind you blink back into reality because of a copper coin in your face. "Penny for your thoughts?"

One of your sisters is on either side of you and Alex is holding out the coin in front of you.

You force a smile. "Nothing much is on my mind. I'm just surprised it worked to be honest the wiring on the inside was a bit iffy."

"C'mon. We know that isn't what your thinking." Kara bumps you with her hip. "You've been kind of... out of it since yesterday"

You panic. "I have not been out of it! I just have.. a lot on my mind i guess"

"Like what?" Alex speaks this time. She gives you a look, which makes you realize that there is no getting out of this conversation "You know that you can tell us anything right"

"I just- I feel guilty. Both of you are out there changing lives saving lives and here I am in a stupid mechanic shop. Its not even like it does anything besides fix a toy car Steve's nephew keeps breaking and the fix-its of anything someone broke. I feel so useless all the time compared to that. And i miss you two a lot too" You put your head in your hands still leaning against the railing as your sister lean in to hug you.

"You aren't useless. And neither is your shop. God knows how much time our engineering department would have to spend on the drones." Alex reaches up to rub your back.

"I agree with Alex. God knows how many civilians would've gotten hurt if it weren't for you. Also I am a literal superhero. Say my name and I'll be there in a flash"

You look up at her amused for a second, "isn't that Barry's calling card?"

She shrugs. "He won't miss it"

The three of you make your way away from the balcony. You'd be okay. Some times all you need is a hug and an evil flying drone.

Bonus:

"By the way, I saved Mr. Rogers nephew a couple times. Apparently he breaks his toy car every few days because he knows his uncle likes you" Kara looks at you with a smirk.

"Kara look their blushing"

"Oh my god no okay bye"

#Baby Danvers #kara danvers x baby danvers #Alex Danvers x baby Danvers #Request

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ramblings-of-a-mad-cat · 3 years ago

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(sees another fandom that I can ask you about and cheers) Orphan Black! Thoughts? I don't know Dr Who but Tatiana is one of my favorite actors period.

Anon you are so sweet! I'm always happy to chat about fandoms and characters and whatnot, and I will never not appreciate the majesty of Tatiana's acting. That is one of the greatest parts of the show hands down.

Orphan Black, to me, is a show that had incredible potential, but didn't really live up to the excitement it created. (Loooong post ahead.)

The thing is, Orphan Black builds a chilling mystery and background, the world it gradually creates as it goes for about the first two seasons, got be very invested and made me wonder a lot about where it was going to go and what the answers were. The setup is brilliant, right from the start with that iconic cold open of Beth's suicide. The unknown is what really helped this show get as thrilling as it was, because the actual answers behind the unknown were kind of hit and miss, and it seemed like far too often, the show just wasn't interested in telling it's story. Hijinks where the clones impersonate each other in slice of life events? That's fun at first and it really works well as they're still getting to know each other. But after a while, it gets tedious, and it seems like the show would rather fuck around and have dance parties (seriously, that scene was such a #BigLippedAlligatorMoment) than focus on the story and the threat that the sisters are facing. Virtually all of Allison's plotlines are like this, they feel like they belong in a different show, and for some reason the writers insisted on giving her one of these storylines like, every season. After Allison passively murders her own friend out of suspecting that she's spying on her, I just don't feel like an arc about her running for some PTA office position even matters. It doesn't feel right.

Speaking of that, here's another example: Donnie. Why did the end of the first season suggest that he was this secret mastermind working for Leekie? The whole idea just deflates in Season 2 and doesn't really go anywhere. He just goes back to being the bumbling sweetheart he was before. Why even have him be the spy? Maybe it should have been Ainsley. Do you want to know the exact moment that I think Orphan Black went wrong? Like, the specific scene? When Leekie was killed off. The character who had thus far been the Big Bad, gets taken out in the stupidest possible way, a literal accident on Donnie's part, and it's even played for laughs. After that point, the show really struggled to regain it's footing, though I don't think it completely went off the rails until about Season 4, and it was still generally hit or miss. Like, some stuff was really good. The introduction of the Castor clones, the development of Rachel's character (I'll get to her, trust me.) and the reveal of Kendall Malone. But it seemed like so much else was just forgotten or otherwise not resolved. Whatever happened to Cal? Sure, the show wanted to focus on the sisters...but Kira deserves to know her father if she wants to. That's just one example. It's a crying shame because this show is sometimes incredible. The metaphor that I always use for situations like this, is a card game. The show has all the right cards in its hand, they're just not being played.

The two strongest characters, at least to me, were Rachel and Helena. One of these characters was superbly written and went through a devastating arc. The other was Helena. We need to talk about her. In Season 1, she really cemented herself as a memorable presence with her trademark accent, her scars, her whole damn personality (again, hats off to Tatiana) and of course, that iconic screechy theme music that accompanied her. Which at first made us jump, but eventually made us cheer. I adored Helena, and I loved the development of her relationship with Sarah. Who went from shooting her in Season 1, to being deadset on rescuring her in Season 3, being furious with Siobhan for betraying her. (This is unrelated but Siobhan has the same " twist villain fakeout" at the end of Season 1 that Donnie does, and it's quite frustrating.) And yet, I swear, the writers just didn't know what to do with Helena half the time. They put her on a bus for long stretches, including one point where she just up and leaves Allison's house in Season 4, for no given reason. And the characters just kind of...don't care. The same thing happens when she gets arrested. No one cares to try and find Helena, even though she's unstable and often a danger to those around her. Even though she's by herself with no real ability to function in society. Even though she's pregnant. There is no excuse for this, and no Sarah, that "I'm sorry, I avoided you" scene in Season 5 is not going to cut it. It's such an afterthought.

I'm being rather critical, but I hope you can tell that this is from a point of passion. I genuinely enjoyed this show and getting to watch it. Just that sometimes it didn't feel like the show cared that I was watching. However, this was not true whenever Rachel was onscreen. Look, I'm a Merula Snyde stan, so you can probably already guess how I feel about Rachel. Despite her crimes, despite her constant slipping back the dark side, I felt so bad for Rachel at the end of it all. That scene with Kira really sums it up. "Who hurt you?" "All of them." And no scene is more intense than when she stabs out the eye cam. Like, I'm sorry, I pitied Rachel pretty much from Season 2 on. Her parents were horrible to her, and I'm supposed to think Ethan is the good guy here? He kills himself in front of his own daughter, telling her that she doesn't deserve him. And then Sarah shoots a pencil through her eye, causing brain damage and requiring a long recovery. I'm not saying that Sarah was wrong to do what she did, just that if I were in her shoes, I'd still feel a degree of guilt for Rachel's condition. In the end, I'm devastated that she was barred from Clone Club, when she made the right decision at the point it mattered. But there's just too much history there, and Sarah won't ever forgive her. (Though again, I do feel as though there's blame to share.) Rachel is my favorite character and I never expected her to be. But she's just so complex. Side note: "Enjoy your oophorectomy" is so damn quotable. I don't know why but I love that line.

So, Rachel's my favorite. Who's my least favorite? It might surprise you. It's Delphine. I'm sorry, but I just...I couldn't get on board with C*phine. Not after Season 3. I was waiting for the point that the show would push to finally redeem Delphine for her turncoat role, for all of the hell that she put Cosima through. By Season 5 though? I realized that as far as the writers were concerned? She already was redeemed. Even though she did nothing to earn it, except be presumed dead by Cosima. The way she treats Cosima in Season 3 is actually disgusting. Her reasoning for breaking up with Cosima is circular. She has to love "all the clones" in order to be with Cosima, and the way to do that is to take over Rachel's job, which means they can't date anymore? I'm not the only one who thought that didn't make sense, right? Oh and let's talk about how she stalks Cosima's date, breaks into her house, and threatens her life. Red. Flags. Cosima even says the line, "If you're not going to be with me, just let me go." I'm sorry, that should not be something she has to beg for. Delphine's behavior made me want her to stay far, far away from Cosima. Who is, incidentally, a sweetie and I absolutely adore her. I legit have trouble remembering that Tatiana's playing her because she just looks and acts so different. That said, even though I immensely disliked Delphine, I am so very glad that they made one of the clones gay. Just like I'm glad that they made one of them trans. (Though...Tony wasn't handled especially well.)

In general, I do think the earlier seasons were stronger. The Brightborn arc, while interesting, didn't really contribute much to the overarching narrative. We got the backstory on Beth's suicide and finally learned the truth about her, I suppose. Still, even though Beth is one of my favorite of the clones, and I never expected her to be either...I feel like the actual reason given for why she took her own life was rather illogical. She apparently did it because the investigation was putting the clones in danger of another Helsinki. Okay, but just because Evie Cho says you should off yourself, doesn't mean you have to. You could just, like...stop investigating. And if you die under mysterious circumstances without explaining anything to the sisters, they're not going to be put off from the investigation. They're going to look into this even more, because they don't know why they're not supposed to. The reveal that she and Art fell in love toward the end adds an extra gut punch, but it also doesn't make sense because wouldn't Art have referenced it during the period that he thought Sarah was Beth? On the other hand, Season 4 also introduced MK. And I have such a soft spot for her. I adore that sheep-masked sweetie. Everyone always asks "Which clone would you date" (because fandoms can think of nothing else I guess) and I never see anyone give any love to MK. Her death absolutely tore me apart. I am glad Siobhan avenged her even if she went down at the same time. Side note, her last word being the affectionate "Chickens..." Broke me.

Season 5 was a strange beast. In general, it seemed like we were finally getting some answers to the questions that were hanging over us. Exploring the deep mythos. But then they kind of turned it around and made it just be a Wizard of Oz style fraud twist. Westmoreland isn't really inhumanly old, he's a charlatan. I don't know why that was necessary in a science fictional show. I've seen the interviews and I get what they were going for, it just feels like it would have been cooler and far creepier if he was actually that old. The puppet master pulling the strings the whole time. We also finally get some answers for Kira's superhuman healing abilities (though we never learn how she's telepathically connected to the clones) and I'm loving it, but the trouble is, it's inconsistent. Ethan "Why is this guy so popular, he's an asshole" Duncan told Rachel specifically that Sarah being able to have children was a fluke, that the clones were "barren by design." I don't know, the whole concept of Revival and of the "magical island" was really foreboding and tied in with the earlier references to The Island of Doctor Moreau. Especially that song about "Revival's Children" just...the shudders, man. But just having it be a regular old scam is...a letdown. I know it may be more realistic, but I don't always need realism in my scifi. The finale is interesting, in that it's mostly an epilogue. I'm glad the clones (sans Rachel) got to live happily ever after, but there are two gut punches right at the end that are total nitpicks but they bother me. Helena naming her kids after Art and Donnie? And writing a memoir that she names "Orphan Black?" Those two tropes can go die in a hole. They can enjoy an oophorectomy, because I'm so sick of them.

The potential of Orphan Black was practically infinite. The results of Orphan Black fell frustratingly short.

#Orphan Black #Alison Hendrix #Rachel Duncan #Helena Orphan Black #Sarah Manning #Cosima Niehaus #Long Post #Beth Childs #Ramblings #Veera Suominen #Donnie Hendrix #Aldous Leekie #Ethan Duncan #Delphine Cormier #Siobhan Sadler #Clone Club #Arthur Bell #Tatiana Maslany

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