#many of them had been on team lets all kill ourselves for a While but its hard to coordinate with the infinite sea of selves so yknow

[arolesbianism]

Thinking abt my oni pmd au again. Don't you love it when you're in a timeloop with every* other version of you that exists and it won't end until all of you meet the same fate

[gingiesworld]

Family Ties (6/?)

Natasha Romanoff x Werewolf Fem Reader

Warnings: Angst. Fluff. Smut

Taglist : @natashamaximoff-69 @canvascoloredin @wizardofstories @louxbloom @wandanats-goodgirl @natashasilverfox @the-ox-fan20 @upsidedowndanvers

18+ MINORS DNI

Since the kiss, the two had stolen moments in between meetings and team briefings. Y/N also looked over the map that Nat had given her, looking over the last known location of the clan. That was until she noticed a familiar name in the file that Nat had been looking over.

"Ricard Selene." She muttered as she remembered the man she knew as her Uncle before he betrayed them all.

"You know him?" Natasha asked as Y/N nodded.

"He is my uncle, the one who gave me to Hydra, the reason why many of my family had died." Y/N told her.

"We have been searching for him." Nat told her as she showed her the locations they had.

"Here." Y/N pointed as Nat looked at her confused. "My family will be here because they will be looking for him."

"They were looking for you." Nat stated as Y/N shook her head.

"They would have believed that I was dead after over a decade." She told her. "So the bases, the killings would have been vengeance for the lives lost because of him."

"So you think your family is looking for him too?" She questioned as Y/N nodded. "We need to go to Fury about this."

"No." Y/N told her. "We need to do this ourselves. Tony has already shown his dislike for my kind and well, I can't trust him around my family Nat."

"Maybe we can ask Steve?" She questioned.

"No. I can do it." Y/N told her. "I have to do it."

"What about us?" Nat questioned as Y/N gave her a small smile.

"When this is all over, you and I are going away for a while. Just us." Y/N cupped her face.

"When do you plan on leaving?" She questioned as Y/N smiled softly.

"Tonight." She told her. "I need to help my family." She told her as Nat nodded in understanding before pressing her lips on Y/N's in an urgent kiss. Her arms wrapped around Y/N's neck as Y/N pushed her on the bed. Hovering over her as she gazed into Nat's eyes before kissing once more, her tongue pushing past her lips as Nat moaned as her leg pressed against her aching core.

As Y/N's kisses moved down her neck, Nat grinded against Y/N's thigh trying to find relief. Y/N's hand went to remove her clothes, leaving the assassin bare for her to see. Her finger brushing over her ivory skin as Nat looked through hooded eyelashes.

"You are so beautiful." Y/N whispered before kissing her once more. Her hand moved to knead one of Nat's breasts as her kisses moved down her body. Growling as she could smell Nat's arousal, bringing out Y/N's primal needs to mark her. Her teeth bared down into Nat's skin, causing her to whimper at the sensation as Y/N's fingers plunged inside of her. Thrusting at a fast and steady pace as Nat's moans filled the room. Her hands gripping the sheets as she came, Y/N removed her fingers and started to suck on her clit, not giving her a chance to let up. Moaning as Y/N made her cum once more before she pushed Y/N over, ready to spend the day between the sheets.

"Promise me you will call me if you need." Nat asked her as Y/N packed a small bag.

"I don't exactly have a phone." She told her with a smirk.

"Here." She handed her an older phone and charger. "It has my number already in the contacts, and Wanda and Steve just in case."

"Thank you Nat." Y/N whispered as she put the phone in the bag. "For everything."

"Don't make this sound like a goodbye." Nat told her.

"I'm not." Y/N told her. "See you later." She kissed her before she joined Clint in his truck as Nat watched her disappear out of the compound.

"So, she's gone?" Wanda asked as Nat nodded.

"For now." She whispered as Steve patted her shoulder.

"Let's concentrate on taking down Hydra." He told them as they nodded.

"So, you think you can find Ricard?" Clint asked Y/N as he drove.

"Yeah." Y/N told him. "We are known as the world's best hunters, predators even."

"And you think that will help." He questioned as she nodded.

"It will. Besides, my family has already been searching for him and we will be getting closer." She told him.

"You believe that?" He asked her.

"I have to." She told him. "If I don't, who knows what will happen to the rest of us."

The rest of the drive went by in silence, especially since the two needed to listen out for any signs of the clan. "We're nearby." She told him as she sniffed.

"How can you tell?" He asked her, amazed by her.

"I can smell them." She answered as he nodded. "We have a great sense of smell, it can be a curse at times though."

"I can imagine." He chuckled as the two exited the truck, making their way into the woods.

"You don't have to come with me?" She told him as he shook his head.

"Nat is my best friend and I know that if anything happened to you, it would break her heart." He told her as the two made their way through the trees, soon finding a clearing with some children running.

"You're here?" A woman asked as she approached Clint.

"We are." He smiled at her. "This is Y/N."

"My baby." She whispered as she cupped Y/N's face. "I can't believe it." She turned to one of the kids. "Go and get Aaron."

"I'm home." She whispered as Trinity kissed the girl's head, pulling her in for a hug, tears falling down her cheeks.

"Y/N?" Aaron whispered as he approached them, the other elders stood behind him as he walked to the two. "I can't believe it. You're finally home." He turned to Clint. "Thank you."

"We may have a location on Ricard." He told Aaron who stiffened. "Y/N thinks that you were really looking for him all this time."

"No." Aaron shook his head. "I knew in my heart that my baby girl was still alive. I could feel it."

"But we can still find him." Y/N told him.

"You will not be coming along." He told her as she stepped forward. "I already lost you once, I will not lose you again."

"This is my fight as much as it is yours, Father." She told him. "I can do this, we can take him down."

"No!" He yelled. "You will remain here, with your mother and the other women."

"Father, with all due respect. I know what Hydra are capable of." She told him. "I have been on the receiving end of their torture techniques, experiments."

"Your destiny is to be a mother." He told her as she shook her head.

"I can't carry a child if I wanted to." She told him honestly. "They made sure of that when they removed my eggs. Taking them away and freezing them so they can try and make their own wolves."

"You still won't be coming." He told her. "You will remain here, with the women and younglings."

The Avengers had narrowed it down to a location as Clint had notified Nat of the plan.

"Ok, we need to be sure that we do not harm the wolves." Nat stated as everyone listened to the plan.

"Seriously?" Tony asked her. "Why are we working with them?"

"We have a common goal." Steve told him. "We all want to take down Hydra and Ricard Selene."

"Why not let them take the base instead." He tried as Steve scoffed.

"We will work with them, as a team." He told him firmly. "If I find out that there is a single casualty caused by you Stark, I will make your life a living hell."

"Ok." He raised his hands in defeat. "When do we leave?" He asked as Steve sighed.

"Be on the jet in 15 minutes. We will take the base tonight." He told them.

Y/N watched as the wolves and Clint had left, a hand on her shoulder as her mother stood beside her.

"I know you won't obey him." She stated. "You have always been a stubborn child." She kissed the side of her head. "Just be careful and come home to us."

[celeisana11y]

AITA For using someone’s trap against them and also killing them? (WAIT FOR CONTEXT PLEASE!)

Now before I tell you this story I need to provide some context. I (M) (you call me J) and many other people have been placed in these death games where your goal is to be the last one alive and every time we participated in another ‘game’ there would be something different about the game. This was the 6th time we were doing this ‘game’ thing and this time the special addition to games were these ‘wildcards’ that would happen every once in a while and they would change some aspect of the game while starting on 6 lives. For example, one wildcard was if we crouched we got smaller and if we jumped we got bigger, another was having an immortal snail follow us and if it touched we would die but those are irrelevant to this story.

(By the way if you're curious, when this ‘incident’ occurred the ‘wildcard’ was that everything sped up over time going from time being pretty much frozen to going really fast but that isn't very important)

So to the actual story, A couple friends we’ll call them Sc (M), L (F) and I/J (M) have decided to team up and there are also another team of 3 nearby us, we’ll call them G (M), M (M) Sk (M). At this point a few of us had lost a lot of lives and were almost eliminated from the game but we could get lives back for ourselves if we killed someone with 4/6 or more lives left. To do this the 3 other guys made this deadly contraption thing where a cart filled with explosive material was being spun around really fast and once launched would deal MASSIVE damage to a certain spot or to someone standing in a certain spot and this was benefited by the fact that guys had set this contraption high up on a mountain allowing them to more effectively kill someone without the person noticing. Now this is the part where I may have been a little bit of a betrayer because the guys had let me know about this contraption too, probably not expecting me to use it against them. So 2 of the guys were going down below the contraption to demonstrate where the cart would land and at this point the trap was set up and all someone had to do was pull a lever to send the cart down towards the ground/victims, as the guys stood at the spot where the cart with deadly explosives was supposedly going to land I saw an amazing opportunity to get a life back. The G guy had 5 lives and the M guy had 3, the 3rd guy (Sk) had 1 life and so did I. Once the 2 guys had been standing in the spot for a while, I pulled the lever. I waited a bit and BAM! Both of the guys were dead, I got a life back from it and I was the happiest I’d ever been in a while! Of course this action had its consequences, the entire team of those 3 hated me but at that point I didn't care I was just happy that I was able to pull that off.

I know what I did was wrong but then again, it's a death game and when you're close to being eliminated shouldn’t you take any opportunities that come your way especially if they come so easily? AITA?

[am-i-obsessed---maybe]

Disordered (Shadow Of A Bluejay Ch.9)

Whoooo, angst (light angst but angst) in general it's a shorter chapter because it's mostly reformatted from Shadow Of A Bluebird seeing as it covered much of the same ground.

My current plan is three more chapters (including the finale) and a few more mini chapters to cover the remaining episodes and milestones we need to hit to be ready for the finale one of which is gonna be Blue's first time meeting their fellow sidekicks!

Wordcount: 1.2k

Series masterpost

Mount Justice October 23, 17:30 EDT

It’d been a week since Batman put you and the team through a train for failure mission. A week to sit on everything that occurred in the increasingly horrifying experience where no matter what you did the situation kept getting worse. You refused to speak after the exercise. You didn’t leave the cave. You simply trained, and trained and trained while rerunning what had happened in the exercise in your mind.

Simulation Alien Mothership October 16th

Artemis was dead. Kaldur was dead. Connor was dead. Dinah was dead. Ollie was dead. Roy was probably either dead or dying and you felt anger that you haven’t felt in a very long time. You were full of rage, rage that bubbled under your skin as your friends and everyone who tried to help them died before your eyes and it bubbled until you reached the boiling point.

Once you, Robin, Kid Flash, Miss Martian and Martian Manhunter were almost out of the mothership. Almost saved the world you snapped. Not at your allies but at the aliens that surrounded you. The strange bug like creatures surrounded your and you let your anger take control and you stormed the Aliens, screaming a battle cry.

“How dare you?! You killed Artemis! You killed Dinah! You killed Ollie! You killed everyone, and I’m going to make your deaths painful!” You sneered, you jumped into action. Muscle memory took control and almost every blow you landed hit hard. Energy consumed your veins and you began zapping or electrocuting the aliens, it was unclear to you. It didn’t matter though and your rage filled alien murder spree continued. Robin forced the Martians to escape and joined your fight only for you to be zapped by an alien he was fighting.

That’s when you woke up. You looked around, you listened to the explanation and all you could do was look down at your slightly shaking hands in guilt.

You stayed away from the rest of the team after that, refusing to talk to anyone. The only person you talked to was Dinah and only to tell her you were fine and didn’t wanna talk about it.

Mount Justice October 23rd

Kaldur had gone in to see Dinah, Connor and Artemis already spoke to her and M'gann felt too bad to look any of you in the eyes. all had left the room, leaving only you, Robin and Wally sitting in the lounge.

The TV was black and silent and the three of you just sat there.

The three of you had all "died" together in the simulation. Wally was your best friend and Robin was his and leaving you three alone well...

"Blue, your floating again" Wally said. He sat on the couch opposite you.

"Sorry, my mind was drifting" You said, falling back onto the couch with a lack of grace the two had never seen before.

"This is awful" Robin said.

"Do you ever think, maybe we shouldn't be doing this?" You asked.

"What do you mean?" Wally asked.

"I know we're the good guys but maybe we're too dangerous to be so freely fighting, I mean, you saw how quickly all of us became soldiers in there" You said.

"Is this because of that weird laser thing you did on the mothership?" Wally asked.

"It's because we're dangerous! Because if we're not careful, if we don't control ourselves we could so easily hurt so many people" You said.

"I mean, Wally you could theoretically break the sound barrier, and Robin and I could kill someone with just our bare hands" Yo looked down at your hands.

"Is it really safe for the people around to us to be around us?" You asked.

"Of course it is" Robin said.

"Yeah, we'd never do anything to hurt anyone" Wally added.

"But it would be so easy for us" You said.

"Is this because of your um... meltdown in the simulation?" Robin aske.

"No, just forget it" You said, getting up and walking out.

Mount Justice October 23, 20:03 EDT

You sat in front of her in a green chair and took off your glasses.

“I’m glad you chose to come talk to me Y/N” She said and you laughed dryly.

“As if I could ever escape it” You joked but Dinah stayed silent, waiting for you to speak. She knew you. She knows you. She knows that those dry, sarcastic jokes are a sign you’re going to open up.

“It was weird at first. I didn’t feel bad after seeing you and Ollie disintegrate but when Artemis died, or when we thought she did this feeling in my chest just appeared. Like a promise or an oath I had to uphold.” You explained and Dinah nodded. “And what was that promise?” She asked, you answered, though still didn’t look up from your hands.

“To get revenge. To painfully tear apart those who killed her… And you and Ollie.” You answered truthfully and finally looked up at her. “And I did. I killed them, so many of them.” Your voice started to shake and you looked back at your hands.

“Did you try to hurt them when you killed them?” She asked and you nodded.

“I wanted to— I did enjoy seeing them squirm as I did it. And seeing them all explode, it just felt…” A single sob escaped you. “It just felt right.” You confessed and you looked down at your rapidly shaking hands. “I promised— I said I’d never do it again. I’d never take a life like that again, but I felt good as I did it.” Warm tears began to flow down your face but you didn’t try to wipe them. You simply stared at your hands, trying to stop the shaking by tightly gripping your knees and Dinah simply sat. Waiting for you to feel good enough to continue.

"You're not at fault Y/N" Dinah said.

"Aren't I though? Four years of progress and yet all it took for me to snap was some stress" You said.

"It wasn't just stress. M'gann's mental state infected you. You thought you lost everything. In a situation like that regressing is natural" She said.

"It's not just that, between the mission in Bialiya, my mission with Roy and this, it feels like, like it's all coming back to haunt me." You told Dinah, though that wasn't the whole truth. You didn't tell Dinah about your meeting with Lady Lilith. You didn't tell anyone that.

"Is it really coming back to haunt you or are you scared it will? Your past will always be there Y/N but you have friends, close friends who care about you. Maybe it's time you told them at least some of it" Dinah said.

"No!" You yelled.

"Absolutely not. They'll hate me" You said.

"Y/N, we classified your file to keep you and everyone around you safe but it's been four years and they haven't come after you. perhaps it's time we think about declassifying some of it?" Dinah suggested.

"No. Not yet." You said and reluctantly Dinah nodded.

"Whatever you decide. You set the pace." she said.

The next week was rough, Canary let you off school and you spent a lot of time in the cave and with Roy. Ollie wasn’t joking when he said that even Roy was worried and he came by to help you try and return to normal while you coped. You were incredibly grateful for the distractions and to spend more time with him. It had been four months since he went solo and in that time you didn’t get the chance to hang out like you used to before. Unfortunately not everything was going great.

[laughhardrunfastbekindsblog]

I've seen referenced several times a paraphrased quote attributed both to DBB and to Jen Corbett of Bad Batch that the show's creators ultimately decided to kill off Tech because they couldn't make season 3 work otherwise.

Hmm.

I rarely read interviews from creators about a storyline because I prefer to let the story tell itself and let the interpretations come as they will based on what the narrative itself presents. But in this case I looked up the quotes/interview simply because I had to know how in the blazes they came to the conclusion that a storyline HAD to involve Tech (or any Bad Batch member, for that matter) dying.

I have... thoughts. Lots of thoughts. RESPECTFUL thoughts, because I truly do think the writers/directors of this show are absolutely BRILLIANT (which is partly why I had such a difficult time during season 3 and it has taken quite a bit of reflection to come to terms with it... But I needed to come to terms with it because I love it so much I want to enjoy all of it in the future!) But fair warning: if you prefer not to read a post if the post's author isn't 100% in agreement with the show's creative choices, then this might not be the post for you.

Reference: https://www.starwars.com/news/brad-rau-jennifer-corbett-the-bad-batch-season-3-interview

Quote #1: “When we first started this show, we had hoped that we could get three seasons to tell this story," executive producer and head writer Jennifer Corbett tells StarWars.com. "We kicked Season 1 off with Order 66 and the team trying to figure out where they fit in the galaxy. We knew Season 2 was going to be a little bit darker, because we knew that the team was going to lose in some way. As the season progressed, it became clear that the way for them to lose is to essentially have the team be fractured. That's what happens when we lose Tech, and then also with Omega being taken by the Empire.”

I find the choice of words here - particularly "fracture" and "lose" - to be interesting. This is the quote that made me realize my original (starting in season 1) hopes for where the themes of the show would conclude had apparently never been in line with what the show was aiming for. The show's definition of the team "fracturing" and "los[ing] in some way" apparently had to include death and only came in the season 2 finale; whereas I considered the team to be "fractured" within the first 10 minutes of the pilot episode - as soon as Order 66 came through and Crosshair was susceptible to the inhibitor chip, the team was broken. And they weren't ever truly whole in the first place, given that Order 66 occurs before they meet Omega. For me, the team lost big time as soon as the show started.

So, while I went through the entire show (yes, I kept hoping Tech would come back in season 3) hoping the themes of family and never leaving family behind would conclude in at least one instance of this little clone family being whole and truly united again - considering the fact that they were broken since "Aftermath" - I realize now this hope was nigh impossible to fulfill given that the show didn't consider the team fractured upon Crosshair's departure and therefore felt the need to not only break it apart further, but break it permanently.

Quote #2: “There were a lot of conversations that went into that [killing off Tech], and we even tried to talk ourselves out of it many times, because he's such an important character to the show, to all of us and the crew, and we know he is important to the fans,” Corbett says. “But what we're showing in Season 2 is that the galaxy has changed and the Empire is now very powerful in the early years. So we were trying to be logical in the sense that, the Batch keeps putting themselves in these positions and, ultimately, there has to be a time when they do lose."

I can respect this decision, though (as I stated above), the entire show pretty much involves the Bad Batch losing in one way or another and personally I don't care for the idea that the only real way a team can lose (read: "stakes") is if death is involved. But that's just me, and I can get over this personal hang up.

Quote #3: Throughout, they’ll feel the loss of their brother. “It affected a lot of the logistics,” Brad Rau, executive producer, says. “The very mathematical logistics of how we normally would have the team operate was massively different without Tech there. But emotionally, the most important part, the way that the loss of Tech affected Omega, Hunter, Wrecker, Echo, and Crosshair, even throughout the whole season was, I wouldn't say heavier than we expected, but was definitely very heavy.”

I'm gonna be blunt: when first watching season 3, I felt the emotional impact of the loss of Tech for most of the squad was sorely lacking, and this is the main reason why I kept hoping right up through the epilogue that Tech would somehow show up.

Every. Single. Allusion. To. Tech in season 3 hit like a ton of bricks right to the gut. @eriexplosion described it extremely well (paraphrasing) as picking at a wound and not letting it fully heal. After some reflection following the series finale, I came to the conclusion that this might be because the Tech mentions were meant to show how the Batch - Crosshair in particular - were still feeling about the loss, and (in hindsight) it seemed that Crosshair felt deep guilt and pain over Tech's death all the way through season 3. (Heck, I now see Crosshair having a moment to honor Mayday early on but never truly honoring Tech as yet another indication that, while Crosshair felt grief over Mayday, he must have felt even deeper grief compounded with guilt and remorse over Tech that led to him essentially avoiding the subject.) So I guess it turns out my conclusion fits the original intention of the creators.

Thing is, since we don't ever see any actual catharsis or healing for any of the Bad Batch members (Omega is the closest we get to it, and even that's a stretch), this aspect of the show does NOT land well for me - really, many times during season 3 it came across that the only real impact Tech's absence had on the team as a whole was that Hunter had to deal with datapads and decryption was harder. (There have been fan comments that if Tech had been around in season 3, the entire storyline would have been wrapped up in two episodes (and I actually rather agree with this) - but this headcanon/focus still only emphasizes Tech's role/function on the team, not his impact as a brother.)

Again, upon reflection I am quite willing to give the narrative the benefit of the doubt and say the excruciating emotional pain inflicted with every Tech mention was intended to show the impact of the loss on his family; but it was SO difficult to watch season 3 when this wasn't made clear from the get-go. And given that (based on reddit discussions I've seen) half the audience seemed to think the Bad Batch had long since moved on because "stoic soldiers/they have other priorities" while the other half thought the Bad Batch hadn't moved on and were avoiding the subject, I truly do think this ended up being a murky point - and it shouldn't have been.

This is where we get to the hill I will die on and my ONLY major criticism of the show: if Tech "had" to die and stay dead, there should have, at bare minimum, been a scene - even if it came at the end of the finale - where Tech's entire family finally had a chance to meaningfully acknowledge and honor Tech, even if it was brief such as Crosshair had with Mayday. If there had been any moment before the finale for any of Tech's brothers to honor and/or memorialize him, the contrast between that cathartic moment versus how the topic had been treated before/by his other siblings would have been more than adequate to cement early on the idea that the squad was still feeling the loss of Tech as an individual and a brother, thereby clarifying the show's intentions. And a moment for Tech's ENTIRE family (and friends) to honor him, even if it came at the end of the finale, would have closed out the dangling plot thread of Crosshair still feeling guilt and grief over Tech.

Anyway, while this interview didn't much change my own conclusions of how season 3 played out and what could have been done better, I am glad I read it since it provided at least a modicum of clarity as to what the show's intentions actually were - even if those intentions didn't always clearly come through in the narrative.

[panfluidme]

THIS GOODBYE MEANS FOREVER

I'mma count this as a request, so requested by @luxcanaimatis2024

Second part of Taken Away Forever, I highly suggest reading that first so you aren't confused

It didn't feel really real until Chris saw Martin's body. He wore a suit, something Martin would never have put on normally, with a tie and pocket square that matched his eyes. Which had been shut in the embalming process.

Chris shook with suppressed sobs, Aviva gently rubbing his back. She felt near tears as well. Martin had felt like a big brother to her, she loved him so much. Aviva supported Chris, and Chris supported her.

The younger, now only, Kratt brother stayed by the coffin during the whole viewing. He wanted so badly to hold onto Martin's hand, try to convince himself that this was just a dream, that Martin was just sleeping. Of course, deep down, the brunet knew that it wasn't a dream or that Martin was just sleeping.

He didn't know what hurt the most. That he was never going to go on a creature adventure with someone unless they replace Martin, which they were not going to do. That he didn't have anyone to cuddle up with after a nightmare or during a panic attack. That he was never going to get to have someone to get distracted with over a new, cute creature. That... that Chris was going to spend most of his life as an only child.

Just everything about this hurt. It hurt a lot too, knowing the last thing he ever told Martin while Martin was alive, was that he hated him. Which was not true, it never had been. There was no one in Chris' life that Chris loved in the same way, the same amount, as he loved Martin. He regretted ever saying that to Martin.

Chris didn't know how he would feel if the last thing he ever heard Martin tell him was "I hate you" shortly before he was killed. Luckily, Martin hadn't said it back. So the last thing Chris was told from Martin was just "you're getting getting on my nerves!"

Which, yes, wasn't the best thing to hear as the last words your big brother tell you. But it wasn't as bad as Chris'. At least Chris knew Martin meant it. He really hoped Martin didn't think that Chris meant what he had said.

The Kratt brother was the first one to give the speech after all the welcoming things. But Chris had tuned those out. He internally was practicing his speech, over and over again in his head.

He walked up to the podium, looking at everyone. His mouth felt dry as he cleared his throat.

"Hello, everyone. I know I don't know every one of you, I'm sure a lot of you went to school with Martin. I'm Chris Kratt, Martin's younger brother."

"How do I even describe Martin? He's easily one of the best people I've ever met. In many ways, he was my other half. There's a four year difference between us, he's told me that he never felt like his life was complete until I came along. He doesn't remember much of what life was like until I came around."

"There's many stories of him that I have. If I told them all, we would be here forever. Some of my favorite moments with him were when we were out studying creatures. He's the one who came up with the name 'creature adventures' and 'creature adventurers', which is what we call our outing and ourselves. Technically, we're zoologists."

"I feel like the best story that captures Martin perfectly was right after I graduated." Chris chuckled weakly. "I had just turned eighteen. Instead of being a normal person, Martin gathered up all the blue and green party supplies he could carry, and after everyone had gone up and everything, Martin found me and dumped everything on me. I was covered in silly string and slime for a week."

"Or the time Martin convinced his two friends to let me and Jimmy to join their team so we can creature adventure together. There was the first time we ever went mini. I was admittedly scared, and Martin made it fun."

Chris looked down and wiped his cheeks. "The last time I ever saw him alive was rough. Martin and I had gotten into a fight that I regret more than anything. His last memory of me will always be this stupid argument that we had gotten in. I never meant the words I told him."

"I love you, Martin," he decided to end it there, not knowing how much longer he could go without crying. "These last two years of adventuring you has been the best two years of my life. I love you so much, I'm sorry for everything."

[simslegacy5083]

NSB (Straud Legacy) Gen 9 Ep 86: Heart to Heart

Luigi desperately wanted to explain that his poor reaction to fatherhood was no reflection of his love for Noemi, but he hardly knew how to begin.

“I’ve always known that I had to be a father someday, but for just as long I’ve wrestled with a subtle dread of having children. I don’t really know why. Best I can figure is that I feel I can’t possibly live up to my memories of Papa Jack, and yet I can’t bear not to do better than him.”

With a dry chuckle that was halfway to a sob he continued. “He was the best parent a sim could ask for, attentive, loving, and kind to a fault, but he left me at an age when I needed him most. I was the center of Papa’s world, and I don’t think I’ll ever feel ready to give a kid that same level of attention and devotion. I know I’m going to let them down, and at the same time I can’t stand the idea of letting them down.”

Noemi nodded in understanding. This wasn’t the first time she’d heard Luigi wax lyrical about how wonderful his papa Jack had been. She doubted any flesh and blood sim, even Jack himself, could live up to the mythical ideal Luigi had formed in his head of the beloved parent he’d lost as a child.

She knew saying that wouldn’t help, so instead she tried a different angle. “Luigi, parenthood doesn’t have to mean giving up your own dreams. Sure, we’ll have less time for ourselves, but my parents did a fine job with me while still enjoying their own hobbies and interests.”

“Being a good parent can take many forms, its not “all or nothing” or “one size fits all””.

When Luigi’s tortured expression barely shifted Noemi felt a hard lump begin to form in her throat. Her parents had divorced when she was still an infant. She knew that it didn’t take two sims to raise a baby and as much as it killed her to put it out there, he needed to know he had a choice.

Taking a deep breath, she voiced her own deep-seated fear. Turning to look her lover full in the face, she stared into his eyes and flatly said “I want you by my side in this, to be a part of your child's life, but you don’t have to be. If you aren’t ready to face fatherhood, I won’t try to make you stay.”

Noemi’s words wrenched at Luigi’s heart. “No!” he replied instantly, horrified. He reached out to her, trying to explain.

“Even if I could be an absentee father, and to be clear that’s NOT an option… there’s no way I’d let you go through this alone. I NEVER want to spend another day apart from you. I love you, and honestly, I think I’ve loved you from the day we first met.”

Back on firmer emotional ground now, he gave her a warm smile. “You and our baby are stuck with me, even if I end up being the worst father in history!”

Happy tears stung Nomei’s eyes as relief flooded through her. She crawled into Luigi��s welcoming embrace and whispered, “I love you too.”

“You know”, she added, “You’re hardly the first sim to struggle with the prospect of an unexpected pregnancy. There’s got to be tons of advice on the topic, and if you really want powerful results, I’ve always found talking to a professional to be worth every minute. We could even go together.”

Luigi had never tried therapy, but he had heard good things. Picking and seeing a specialist was the kind of simple and practical action he could face easily. The exhausted couple finalized their plan to find a provider first thing in the morning and headed to bed.

As they drifted off to sleep, clinging tightly to one another, each silently thought how glad they were to be facing the future together, as a team.

View The Full Story of My Not So Berry Challenge Here

[xoxolaw]

frostbite, 007

- - - -

TO SAY HE WAS PUT IN A TRAP

would be less. Even traps have chances of being escapable but what was presented in front of him had no means of escaping. He was afraid of how much more detail Y/N knew about him so trying to defy her would only make it worse and just like any intelligent person, he agreed "Fine, I'll shift the ownership under your name but all the illegal changes need to be done."

Y/N smiled at his response and took out her pen that was ready to be signed with on the property papers. Meanwhile, the harbingers in the other room listening in to the conversation suddenly hit a realisation. "Wait... she could've just given me the information about Baruch and I would've threatened him to just hand it over to me. What didn't she do that?!" Arlecchino questioned and all the other harbingers could only sigh as a response.

"Is that head of yours empty or what?" Pantalone asked "Obviously she wanted the House of Hearth and it's given that she wouldn't reveal such information to someone who always picks fights with her." He taunted and Arlecchino took out her sword ready to slit Pantalone's throat but was stopped by Columbina.

Y/N shook hands with Baruch as a final seal to their deal and exited the room to enter the one where the other harbingers were. "I told you that I can fix it in a matter of seconds." She said while waving the property papers at them. "That coat looks nice on you" Pantalone stated and smiled at her but his words went unheard as Y/N shifted all her attention to Arlecchino. "We can complete the rest of the process together alright? We'll have to make one trip to Fontaine" She smiled and then looked at Pierro with her expressions darkening as she spoke the next words "and get the hydro gnosis as well."

"Won't you be recognised in Fontaine? Hope has it's main headquarters there so..." Childe spoke up.

"No one knows that I am the owner except one person who is the owner of Hope in the eyes of everyone."

"Why are things that way?" Capitano asked and this was the limit to how many questions she could take on "You guys seriously ask too many questions. At this point, you know more about me than I know about any of you! Obviously, I couldn't open up a headquarters of a large-scaled company in a nation I don't belong to. I needed a person who could operate it while I stay in my dear country... there were many reasons to why things turned out this way so if I am asked another question about Hope, I'll kill you"

"Yeah stop with this trivia that's been going on for so long. We need to prepare a plan to get the hydro gnosis... The explosion in the institute was successfully carried away, so I think we can move forward with the plan" Pierro said and got up from his seat "Let's not divert ourselves from our main objective"

"Sorry to intervene in the conversation but Lady Sandrone is back" One of the fatui agents mentioned and exited the room just as quickly as he entered after delivering the message.

---

"We found them all dead" Sandrone mentioned and sipped her tea as if the information she just mentioned wasn't a bad one. "Well... more documents to go through" Pantalone sighed and fixed his glasses "What do we write the cause of death as? They all died a worthless death, not even worth compensating for."

"They were all... the children of the orphanage..." Arlecchino muttered but the silence in the room made it audible enough for everyone to hear. "No family... they were alone in this world... who are you going to compensate to!!" She shouted, "Let me see them!"

"Well... you can but I have to warn you... the sight will be dreadful" Sandrone stated and Arlecchino clenched her fist to the point that blood started dripping from her palm. House of the Hearth... an orphanage with the sole motive of providing necessities to all the orphans from the continent and also the only place that was close to Arlecchino so, knowing the fact that team A and Z that contained only the members who were raised in House of the Hearth were now dead... left a huge impact on her. She was the first to leave the room and no one had a single word to say regarding the matter.

None of the other harbingers cared what had just happened. Their own personal agendas were enough for them to put all their attention on. "You guys are heartless..." Y/N spoke up while clearly not showing any remorse on her face. Those were just vain words with no meaning "You defiantly don't care about the agents that have no family right? But... I am pretty sure everyone in the orphanage considers each other closer than actual blood relation."

"You can't mourn over every soldier that dies in battle" Pulcinella stated "Sacrifice for the greater cause is necessary."

"Greater cause huh..." she mumbled.

"Her majesty, the Tsaritsa's special day is approaching so before we plan about getting our hand on the hydro gnosis, let's prepare for the grand banquet" Pierro announced.

"But wouldn't the hydro gnosis be a great gift to the Tsaritsa?" Pantalone asked.

"It would indeed be a great gift but I am not sure that we will be able to acquire it before her birthday approaches."

"Damn... The fatui does celebrations and stuff? I thought you guys were all serious all the time" Y/N stated dumbfoundedly but the response to her statement was met with a scream from Childe.

"Ahhh!!"

"What happened?" Pulcinella asked and Childe pointed towards Y/N, shifting everyone attention to her. "Your wound opened up what the fuck!!"

"Noooo the coat!!" Pantalone cried and Capitano looked at him like 'Are you for real dude?'

I hope you enjoyed it <3 008 -> <- 006

[astrea-drake]

So now that I'm in a particular part of Heavensward/Dragonsong, I 100% think that no dev has ever sat down and talked to a Healer Main.

SPOILERS AHEAD

SO with the Warriors of Darkness being a thing and the fact that Astrea is a White Mage who wears black to honor the lives lost and so that the blood doesn't show as much as it would on white and the fact that she's a dark-skinned Dunefolk fighting a stereotypical dimunitive pale Plainfolk Lalafell, I've mentally adjusted that fight scene to be both of white mages first thought being take out the other side's healer—one good Stone and that's it but that's not interesting.

Just the mentality of the fight being I can keep my friends alive if I take out what's keeping the other side going. The healer has to go down last.

Astrea slaps a regen on herself and starts doing her level best to get in that girl's face with an Aero and just sending spikes of air at her, trying to choke her out while Edgy White Mage tries to keep her away with Stones and Asylum.

The faith that the two of them have to have in their team—is the White Mage on the other side as feared as Astrea? Is she as revered? Does she carry the weight of the failures? Of those she can't heal?

Astrea is trusted to handle herself in a fight, she's fought gods, she's brought low many an impossibility. She'll be OK.

The unnamed White Mage isn't. Not really.

Their fight is reaching its peak, both of their Assize have canceled the other out, an Asylum on top of each other—a Cure there, a sidestepped Stone, a curse, a dance.

Astrea's got her cornered.

One of them has been in a warzone more recently—one of them fights alone and reckless.

A shared breath.

Gold bores into blue, startling against the red-rust running from a cut on her brow.

For a moment, they are equals.

The few chosen by the spirits.

But the moment shatters as the Roegardyn makes his own decision.

Bringing his ax down on Astrea's back, just barely avoiding a killing blow as Thancred—oh, she's so happy to see him even with the hellfire devouring her back!—intercedes, sending knives through his palm as Astrea quickly casts Cure on herself and Stone on the stunned Mage.

Even now, the Hyur's expression remains smug.

"So, sorry to steal your thunder and leave, Warrior of Light but if it helps settle the questions brimming in those eyes of yours.. We'll meet again. We who walk the same path will always find each other."

And with a snap of his fingers, the Roegardyn hauls the Lalafell's limp body like nothing more of a sack of popotos and they all teleport away.

Like nothing happened.

Astrea can feel a sort of trembling in her limbs but that scarcely mattered. "Krile.. Y'shtola.. Alphinaud? Are you alright?"

Thancred's voice interjects, that familiar mirth lacking somehow. "Ah, I see how it is. Not a wit of concern for me, my fair lady?"

Her heart trembled as she finally looked at him. He was... Scruffier and more tired. The eyepatch made her heart ache all the worse but when she reached out to touch him, all was well.

He was home again.

"My... My eyes don't deceive me then?"

He smiled. A bitter twist to it remained, "Astrea. I have been rather remiss in not letting you know that I wouldn't be able to enjoy our evening talks."

"Only you would be so dramatic upon your return, Thancred," Y'shtola sighed. Ever tired of their habitual circling around the heart of the matter.

She looked dirty and mildly scraped but even as Astrea longed to heal them—the aether would be too much so soon and for something unnecessary...

Krile and Alphinaud looked the same. Shocked but alright. None worse for wear. Though something in Alphinaud's expression made her worry.

"Y'shtola... If you'd have told me that your idea of a good plan was to send me halfway around the world in some secluded forest... I'd have thanked you."

All was well. All was well...

"Astrea! We should not linger long lest we make ourselves even more unwelcome guests!"

When had she closed her eyes for so long? The Scions with the addition of Krile were far ahead.

She needed to catch up to them. Her back.. A Regen and a Cure then. She would deal with it by dawn.

She made to sprint after them—

[the-silver-peahen-residence]

||Jest of the Dark Angel Part 4||Noir au

Hello dears, this is a request from a anon that wishes for a chapter added to this small short series jest of the dark angel. So I'm going to add a part 4 to this. This drabble series along with the Noir au belongs to my friend @demon-blood-youths so if you wish to read the other parts, you can check it out from the links below. :3

((Chapters))

Jest of the dark angle part one

jest of the dark angle part two

jest of the dark angel part three

((Your reading part four right now))

||Warning for Drabble||

~Will have mentions of flashback in this drabble

~Dark themed is will be spoken and seen in this drabble

~Alcohol is present in this drabble

~Slight NSFW is present in this drabble

||Drabble Summary||

Ryunosuke has failed once more in taking out his target though after that, he has been given a break. He denies he needed it but Mori ordered him to. So, he's been resting up on his day off from killing but his mind is now riddled with that man's face. Meanwhile, Mori got some request to speak to Matt and his group about something. Now what could it be? Read to find out.

((Guests in this drabble))

Matt Knack along with his fraction the Lovely Horrors belong to my friend @lovelyxhorrors ((a side blog that is run and owned by @demon-blood-youths ))

Ryunosuke Akutagawa is from the anime series BSD (Bakugo stray dogs) a canon muse that I rp as.

((Note: Their will be grammar mistakes and errors in this drabble. It was written for fun so please understand. Thanks for that and hope you like.))

Mori was looking ahead from his head office, seeing that he had some guests visiting him today. Even with things going on in the city, it seems things were still going under some investigation. Of course, their was recent reports of hearing about clubs still being heavily guarded now after the first few being shot by someone. No one knows who but it was unsure to see who.

So, he decided to invite some people to speak with him. Which results into today. Someone pours some red wine for the two even if Matt declines it with Sid doing the same but Mori was not as evil but lets it go.

"So...your the one that called us? This is new. Was it due to my father? Or does he owe you? Money? Stole something from you?" Matt was quiet while sitting on a chair even if he was not used to these important meetings even when it deals with his father. Mori chuckled to hear this but held a hand up. He had some wine himself to swirl it in the wine glass.

"No no, your father is not involved with anything against me. To say, I'm the one that wishes to speak to you and your...team." He saw Matt's eye brow raised. "I've heard many stories about you and what you all do. Each one having a good reason to do what you do. So, you already know about my organization the Port Mafia correct."

"....Yes, we heard about it." Sid, the white haired woman speaks, pushing up her glasses while sitting by Matt who was looking at Mori. The others were in the same room as well but Mori also remains silent to still keep a smile on his face.

"Well, that's good to know because..I asked you to come here...to speak about working together with Port mafia."

This made Matt and Sid blink hearing this but was confused. Hold on; work together.

"Yes; shocking I know. I figure you been hearing things about my organization and what you might be hearing from other families to think we are the reason of some things happening. But rest assure, the port mafia is not involved with any of the recent shootings happening in clubs. We are trying to figure that out ourselves. But..we need to seek other sources of help to do that. Which explains right now." he said looking to them.

"....Do you have any information that will tell us more?" Matt asked as Mori smiled snapping his fingers. A young man came over but he was wearing a white button-up shirt under a dark red vest, a black choker, a black ribbon bolo tie held together with a small silver buckle, an open black cropped jacket with the sleeves rolled up at the elbows, black slacks, a black belt hanging off his right hip and black low-arch shoes. He is almost always seen wearing black gloves. The two also spots that he wears around his shoulders like a cape. The undercoat is a light shade of red.

He walks over but he sets some folders over to Sid who blinks taking it from his hand to look at it while moving back to stand by his boss. As Sid opens the folder, she begins to read while looking at the information that was seen or read. The information about what was happening is there.

"As you can see. True, the head club owners have been trying to figure out who was attacking their clubs and workers, so far, we found out three families were trying to cause a war. Lucky for them, I had a few from my organization stop the shooting. We even got some witnesses that seen what is going on and on the female workers and male workers that is being kept watch." he said with eyes closed with Sid reading this but the other members were waiting for Matt to come back from this meeting.

"...I see. You have a lot of information here speaking about it." she said.

"We know how to get our information miss Sid. Rest assure, we have ways to do what we need to. After all, we are trying to keep things in peace in the city.." Mori said.

"Hmmmm......"

"So you know many of the clubs that's on stand by, guarded, abandoned, lost, etc?" Matt asked looking to Mori who smiled.

"Of course. Gin?" that's when another young woman walks over but Jason saw her.

The young woman named Gin has dark gray eyes and long black hair. As a mafioso, she keeps her hair in a spiked bun, leaving sections of shoulder-length hair down. Most of it falls to the right side of her face, whilst a strand falls over the middle. Jason saw she wears a gray, short-sleeved v-neck, black trousers, and black heels.

Over her shirt, she wears a long, flared black coat is seen dressed in an outfit comprising of a long black cloak with a hood and frayed trim. The right sleeve, tightened by a black band on her bicep, is long with an extended part with frayed trim, and the left sleeve appears torn off, exposing her arm. She wears reddish-grey gloves that extend a tad beyond her elbows. The right glove being complete whilst the left glove is fingerless.

In addition, she also wears a black choker with a white cross on it, and a white mask that covers her nose and mouth. She walks over to Sid to show another list but it was color coded. To be honest, Jason could tell she was way different than any other woman but he said nothing keeping quiet.

"Here." She said in a tone as Sid takes it and looks at the list. They had the full list of clubs in the city. Every single one was colored but it shows Mori speaks the truth.

"Well Sid?" Matt asked.

"He's right. The list here tells of all the clubs. Seems a few are in the green but others are either in the red because of the recent events going on." she said.

"Even the kidnappings?" Matt said.

"Oh yes, we know about them too. In fact, we got others trying to find more that was taken from their locations but we know with our best men at work." Mori smiled to the two.

"I see...but what is this deal your speaking about?"

"....I would ask if you would like to work together? I know your cleaning up everything for your father and to what he's done. His history is pretty well known in the town...and his so called dark debt. I'm not trying to be enemies here but I only wish to help the city and keep it safe from the threats that linger about." He opens his eyes to look at them.

"If you wish to think about it you may..I'm not usually this offering to just anyone you know...if you wish.." he said.

"....Hold on, how come your offering this to us? I mean, aren't you the ones that started this whole thing?" Matt said confused but Mori thinks to sigh.

"It's not us because my own organization and members are is being attacked as well by rival gangs. You may think we started this or tried to but rest assure, we are not the enemies here. Others might say we are but we aren't." Mori said then stood up. "I have my best men and followers doing their jobs to find out what they do in the city......even if we had others thinking your group were the ones that started it...seems not."

"........."

"So again, I would be happy if your organization works with mine. We can provide a lot of things for you if needed. Information, items, any useful things if your looking for someone. My team will help in any way possible." he said as Matt thinks about it but he was not expecting this only to sigh. He thought his father started something but it seems he didn't. However, he was still unsure about it.

"......Is something wrong?" Mori asked to see Matt open his eyes to look at him.

"I may need time to think about it. Even if you say all this, it's a lot to think about. If you were going to help....give us time to think about it if that's alright?" he said.

"I understand....you take all the time you need......but we will still offer help if you need it. Please come back if you need anything." Smiling, he saw Matt, Sid, and Jason stand up to leave the office to leave. He sees them leave but he was wondering what he'll say the next time.

"Sir? Do you think he believes us?" Gin asked.

"That's up to him.....besides, I'm sure even Ryu is thinking this is crazy but...seems we might have been wrong about this Matt person.." he said while smiling.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Matt, do you think he speaks the truth? What do we do?" Sid asked following him outside to the night as Matt was thinking about it.

"I don't know..I guess we will see in the future. For now, I'll need time to think about it." he said walking off with the two back to their base for now. However, his mind was wondering of Ryunosuke. He hopes he was alright..where ever he was.

"Hey, does this mean if we need to.....are we going to accept his help?" Jason was asking this following the two back to their place. Even if Sid said nothing, she was wondering the same thing looking to Matt. They keep on walking but he was thinking about it.

"I don't know......like I said, I need time to think about it. Though, hearing all that, seems they were not involved with anything that old man of mine has done. So for now, I'll think about it." he keeps walking with hands in his pockets with the other two following him back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

As for Ryu, he was in his bed chambers but he was panting laying on his back while shaking. He just came in his hand after fingering himself. He couldn't believe this!!!

He just took a shower and here he was pleasuring himself trying to calm down from the heated thoughts of that young man. Matt. Damn it, he still tempts and tortures him in his wet dreams even if it makes him heated. He couldn't help it.

Ryunosuke slowly moves his arm from behind showing his fingers that was wet from trying to calm down. He felt so hot right now, almost growing restless without him. He only looks to the pillow panting softly that he grips the pillow. How can he do his mission if his mind won't let him?

'M..Matt...what have you done to me......I can't complete this mission if your haunting my dreams. Even from that, I can't..I can't.....no matter what I try, my head won't let me..' he closed his eyes while he was coated in some sweat. Even knowing his body was aroused right now, he tried to calm down while moaning softly in his room. Stroking himself while his fingers push back into him trying to feel good.

"Mfffmmm......" he had to bite down on the sheets but was shaking. 'Matt...Matt...Matt...f..fuck.....' it wasn't the same but it will have to do. Even through this night, the assassin was slowly losing himself.

But how long will he be able to stay focused? Or will he snap for him?

[theotherrookie]

The Twins shrugged again.

"What we all learned is that Five sees cryptids everywhere. It doesn't take a genius to figure out who's just some guy."

"But she won't hesitate next time. Five keeps her updated on everybody he pissed off."

Then again, they were assuming Crosshair was still carrying on with her usual tasks now that the team was down three members. There was a very good chance she was going to leave, if she hadn't already.

"You should have seen him that week he couldn't stop punching himself."

"It's good that he barely left his room."

Of course, it was mostly Five avoiding the additional shame their teasing would inevitably cause, but it had been good for their own safety as well as for morale.

"We're not going back. The pay is better and we like ourselves sane."

"And we can make sure Ratchet doesn't lay his filthy hands on anyone else."

The brothers turned once again to Rook, who stared back. The urge to point back to Russell and keep up with the boss thing was strong. She didn't feel like talking to the two who had run her over and had a good laugh about it.

"It was our job to watch you, not his-"

"-Five let Ratchet in while we were busy."

"If that's some attempt to gain points, I don't really care." Rook replied.

"We're not looking for sympathy. We're mercenaries, the least we should do is own up to it-"

"-But we have a sister and the only reason that freak still has his hands attached to the rest of him is that he earned more points with Five than us."

"There's always time to fix that." Erica said, "But he only has two hands while we can beat him indefinitely. We just need some sticks and a place to hang him up."

"I like that idea." Lucien agreed.

"Fine with us. But Frosty's just a kid. His only mistake is not knowing how to pick his battles."

"He thinks he's hot shit. But really, what kinda wimp would die to a bunch of snowballs?"

The way both Rook and Erica were staring at them suggested something about their strategic assessment wasn't appreciated.

"…Well, anyways, Ratchet was building a bunch of stuff for Five. It isn't like he tells us the details, but maybe there was a point to it."

"You guys aren't the only ones he's been bothering. The others were easier to kill, except maybe for that ghost dog he was going on about."

They had no way to make the connection with Leofric and even if they could, Five had picked fights with so many people so far that it didn't really make a difference.

Erica conjured a little shadow ball, much to Smokey's delight. Once the kitten grabbed onto it, she made herself a shadow seat shifting her full attention to the conversation.

The Twins gave a shrug, the exact kind Five got when he asked them that same question.

"Maybe she needed more time to aim. It's harder to shoot somebody inside a car."

"And she didn't really see you come in to know to watch out."

Or they didn't expect Five to get beaten up by Russell, of all people. Either way, it hardly made a difference for the three of them. They weren't in this for the cause and didn't do more than what they were told to.

"Yes, Five has a bit of a gas problem. His hair is also kind of weird, which makes you wonder how 'normal' he really is. We saw blue and white."

"Green and pink too. Oh, and there was that yellow stuff he was messing with way back. He likes to mix them."

They weren't the most qualified to talk about it, but they understood all three effects were toxic in some way. It also occurred to them that Lucien probably got to experience some of it personally, if his visibly tense stance was anything to go by.

"We're definitely going to do something about the others when this is dealt with." Rook reassured, "They also need a reminder of what their place is."

As frustrating as it was to let the matter be, attacking them now might only cause Five to gain more sympathy and useful pawns to send their way and they couldn't risk that.

"We moved places after that time. Different area, same kind of shithole."

"We can show you where it is."

While they really had no issue giving that away, they seemed a little less inclined to talk about Frosty.

"Frosty has been with Five the longest, but he isn't really a big deal. The best he can do is throw an ice cream cone at you. He actually believes in the hunting thing, though."

"A shame, really. He's the only one who wasn't happy to hear Ratchet got left behind. He just isn't cut out for this job."

[bi-bard]

Taylor Swift Songs That Would Describe a Relationship with Jason Todd - Jason Todd Imagine [Titans (HBO)]

Title: Taylor Swift Songs That Would Describe a Relationship with Jason Todd

Pairing: Jason Todd X Reader

Word Count: 1,409 words

Warning(s): violence

Author's Note: Reputation is Jason's album. I don't make the rules.

**Not intentionally written in chronological order**

------------------------

...Ready For It?

I, I, I see how this is gon' go Touch me and you'll never be alone I-Island breeze and lights down low No one has to know

I was always the one that was meant to stop Robin.

It was the only job that anyone cared enough to assign to me.

At first, I hated it.

I got tired of fighting the same guy every single day.

But after a while, I began to like our short meetings. Even if I was just fighting him, he wasn't terrible company.

He was cocky, yeah, but he was doing his best. He was trying to impress Batman. I could see that much.

He wanted to be a hero.

And he would be.

Once he could beat me in a fight. But that day has yet to come.

I grabbed his arms, shoving him into a wall of the abandoned building we had found ourselves in that night.

"Aw, what's wrong, Robin," I asked in a teasing tone. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I was thinking," he replied.

"Oh, that's dangerous."

"You could leave these assholes," he nodded vaguely in the direction of my bosses. "I could talk to Batman. Get you a job that's actually fun."

"You're cute, Bird Boy-"

"It's Robin-"

"Bird Boy," I repeated. "Batman would never trust me. Beat the shit out of you a few too many times for that."

"I could convince him."

"Not my style, anyway," I shrugged. "Sorry, Bird Boy. I'm not meant for the games you two play."

"You sure about that?"

I paused for a moment.

No. I wasn't. Of course, I wasn't. This man offered me a pathway out of the world I had been stuck in. The world that I was convinced I would only escape by dying first. But I couldn't just abandon that because he may be able to talk to a man who's been hiding behind a mask for close to as long as I've been alive.

"Maybe," I said.

"What the fuck does that-"

I cut him off by leaning forward and pressing my lips to him. It was only a matter of moments before I leaned back again.

I stepped back, smirking at the shocked look on his face.

"Ask me again the next time we meet," I called as I continued walking back.

"Why?"

I shrugged. "Might say yes."

Jason- whose name I wouldn't know for a while after that interaction- was going to be the only person that could talk me into something like that. I knew that. I was well aware of that.

All I was doing that night was planting that same idea in Jason's head.

Ours

Seems like there's always someone who disapproves They'll judge it like they know about me and you And the verdict comes from those with nothing else to do The jury's out, but my choice is you

I'm not sure how I let Jason talk me into going to San Francisco. I grew up in Gotham. I knew that city like the back of my hand. I have no idea why I thought being dragged to a random city would be a good thing.

I had to sneak over there in the first place. Batman would probably think that I was trying to hunt his little Robin if I made my departure from the city obvious.

Getting into the tower itself was easy. Jason let me in.

I stood behind him as he explained to the team who I was, what I was capable of. He mentioned something about Dick having a thing for strays, so it wouldn't be that difficult to convince them into letting me stay.

"Does Bruce know about them," Dick asked after Jason's speech.

I tensed a bit as Jason answered. "No."

"Why not?"

"He would think I was trying to kill you," I answered before Jason could. "I worked with some... shady people in Gotham. Batman knows me. Knows my work. If he knew that I followed you guys, then he'd go after me."

After that, it was a process.

Well, that's what Jason called it.

He wanted to believe that I would grow on the team with time. But I was less optimistic. Dick may have taken me in, but even he didn't seem to trust me on my own.

I was constantly watched. Kept an eye on.

Precaution.

"How long," I asked Jason one night.

I had been training. I knew the cameras were on. Someone was watching. Always were.

Jason had walked in behind me right before I asked.

"What do you mean?" he replied. I turned to face him.

"How long until I stop getting monitored?" I nodded to the camera in the room. "Questioned? Glared at? Judged?"

"I'm not judging you-"

"They are," I snapped. "All of them. I am a risk to them. If they could, they would throw me out."

"I wouldn't let them."

"Love to see you win a fight with space witch and manimal in there."

Jason sighed and stepped forward, going to grab my hands.

"I want to feel like I'm more than a risk to them," I muttered. "I don't wanna be looked at like some ticking time bomb anymore."

"I don't see you that way," he shrugged at me.

"Yeah, I figured out that much," I looked down at our hands. Jason ran his thumbs over my knuckles.

"Hey," he mumbled. I looked at him again. "Screw them, alright? I don't care what they think about you. And you shouldn't either. You're a badass and they'll see that. Anything beyond that... screw them."

I chuckled. "You make that sound so easy."

"Because it is."

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine. I slowly kissed him back, moving my hands to touch the sides of his face. His arms wrapped around me.

I pulled away first, grinning at him.

"See? Easy," he said, smirking a bit.

I smacked his upper arm. "Ass."

He didn't reply, he just smiled and leaned in to kiss me again.

Maybe he had a point.

Don't Blame Me

My name is whatever you decide And I'm just gonna call you mine I'm insane, but I'm your baby (your baby) Echoes (echoes) of your name inside my mind Halo, hiding my obsession I once was poison ivy, but now I'm your daisy

My heart had never dropped as far as it did when Red Hood's mask broke and revealed Jason's face.

"Holy crap," I whispered as I stood up fully.

Jason pushed himself off the ground, eyes fixed on me. "What's wrong, (Y/n)? You look like you've seen a ghost."

His voice was still half-modulated.

I was about to yell out for someone. Anyone. Dick or Dawn or Conner or something. Jason stopped me, yanking me forward and covering my mouth with his free hand.

"Shh," he whispered. "Come with me."

My eyes widened a bit.

"These people treated you like shit," he explained. "Always keeping an eye on you. Worried that you'd turn on them. Go back to your old ways. Remember all of that? Come with me. You'll be free."

"They've changed-"

"Have they," he asked. "Didn't Dick lock you in the manor because he the manor because he thought you'd go after the Joker on your own?"

My jaw clenched. That was true, but it was for good reason. He knew that I would've killed the Joker and anyone in my way after what had happened to Jason.

"Doesn't sound very trusting to me," Jason continued. "Doesn't look like he did the same to anyone else... even Batman. Look at how that ended."

I closed my eyes. I felt Jason's hand fall away from my mouth.

There was another voice, "(Y/n)!"

Dick.

My eyes opened again, now completely torn. I liked helping, but... I loved Jason. He was the reason I joined the Titans. He was the reason I stayed. What was the point if I didn't have him anymore?

Dick must've caught sight of Jason over my shoulder. "Jason?"

"Bit busy," Jason replied to Dick. "And I have a new name now... Red Hood."

"(Y/n), come on," Dick said.

I took a deep breath before reaching over and grabbing one of Jason's guns. I pointed my arm back, firing a shot right by Dick's head.

Jason chuckled. "Good choice. Come on."

I smiled at him.

I missed him.

I would do anything for him.

------------------------

Navigation Guide

What I Write For

Some Original Characters

[creativeashproductions]

Change of Scenery // Evan Buckley

IN WHICH: Captain Bobby Nash has kept a secret from his friends, his wife and his step children since 2015 when he came to LA. Bobby’s eldest and only surviving child comes to LA to reconcile and make amends all the while she catches the eye of a certain blue eyed firefighter.

Warnings: Swearing, death/familial loss, pregnancy, blood, angst, injuries/medical emergency, and fluff

Words: 8k

A/N: Back at it with another 9-1-1 fic. Hope you enjoy, and I may just have to do another crossover with 9-1-1 and Julie and the Phantoms.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX/ASK PLEASE!

Masterlist

There are moments in our lives that define us, whether it can be known as a positive or negative, but the outcome is always the same. A six-letter word that strikes fear and excitement into the souls of humans is change. The fear can be for ourselves or as a result of a child, a sibling, or a parent branching out on their own. Unfortunately, you had gone through a harsh and cruel experience on a cold winter night in the city you grew up in.

A typical Thursday filled with classes at the college you attended in Minnesota on a scholarship, nothing out of the ordinary. The plan had been to drive to your parents’ apartment to catch up with them for the weekend. Saturday morning was already reserved for a girls day with your little sister Brook and your mom. In the afternoon, you’d promised to take your brother Bobby to the ball diamond.

Your bag was packed, the plan to drive straight from class to St. Paul the following day to arrive in the daylight. Your dad struggled with worry when it came to you driving in the dark and especially in winter with icy roads.

“Y/N!” Dottie screeched from the living room of the four-bedroom dormitory. The pretty and curvy brunette had been the first friend you made in college.

Typically Dottie was on the quieter side, so when she screamed, you practically sprinted to the girl.

“Where’s the fire?” You demanded with a smirk at the reference to a topic that was a constant in your family. 

The fire drills your father conducted every four months for an exit plan in case of a fire and general information to save yourselves. He had also trained you to remember fire hazards and how to call dispatch with clear information if that time ever came. It never did and hopefully never would.

“The Lakeview Apartments in St. Paul.” Dottie’s dark brown eyes spoke only of pity and concern. The five foot ten roommate literally caught you as you tumbled into her arms with a loud grief-stricken scream.

You were forever indebted to the brunette for the plans she sacrificed to drive you back to St. Paul. There was absolutely no chance Dottie would allow you to both drive and be alone with no news. The media hadn’t released the names of the 148 deaths the fire relentlessly tore from the land of the living.

“I want to prepare you for what you’ll see. Your mother suffered severe third-degree burns over the majority of her body.” The kind nurse, also one of your friend’s parent, explained as she guided you to the Burn Center in the Regions Hospital, “I don’t want to lie and tell you she’ll be fine. You’re an adult Y/N. You deserve the truth and not be coddled.”

“Is she gonna survive?” You quietly asked, “Has she woken up since she was brought in?”

“The doctor placed her on a high dosage of morphine for the pain. Your father hasn’t left her side.” Lucinda informed you with sympathy written as over her face, The hazel eyes unable to adequately meet yours.

“I’ll check on her, then could you take me to the rooms my siblings are in?” You asked, completely unaware Brook and Bobby had been DOA at the hospital.

Your father hadn’t answered the text messages or the voicemails you had left on his phone—radio silent. You couldn’t be mad when he was with your mom, but a text would have been nice.

“This is where your mother is staying for the unforeseeable future. If you need anything, you can call me.” Lucinda softly replied before turning her heel to head back to the Burn Centre’s front desk.

It was horrific walking into a room with no idea if the occupant who had raised you would survive. The confident, gorgeous mother you had for the past nineteen years was unfamiliar to you, the extensive gauze covering nearly every inch of her body. You almost couldn’t even recognize the man sitting in the chair with his hands wrapped. 

“Dad? What happened?” You questioned the grieving man. The only person left in your family as you would soon come to know.

“Y/N?” Bobby gasped, pushing himself to his feet, staring at his only living child. The guilt ate at him just staring at you with those light brown eyes, “Oh, sweetheart.”

Your dad crossed the room in a few steps. The scent of smoke was still clinging to every part of him, but it was fine. Your dad was okay, minus the wounds on his hands. You’d always been closer with your father than your mother.

“Dad, what happened?” You quietly asked the ashamed firefighter that had to reconcile his feelings on the fire and his career—that struggle ending up pushing you away when he really just wanted you as close as possible.

“The building caught on fire after an ember from a heater lit a blanket on fire,” Bobby informed you with his eyes pinned on his wife. Bobby knew the chances of Marcy surviving were incredibly low, and he had to tell you that.

Bobby only knew the details passed on from a firefighter who pitied the man who’d lost most of his family. 

“Is Mom gonna be okay?” You questioned, and the said injured woman in the bed weakly responded.

“Baby?” Marcy quietly questioned from her absolutely still position on the hospital bed, “Uh, Bobby.”

You left your father’s side to be as close to your mom as possible, with the clear plastic separating you for her safety. Your heart shattered at the sheer exhaustion in her pretty blue eyes. 

“Hi, Mom.” You shakily spoke with one hand lightly pressed against the plastic divider. You didn’t even notice when your dad stepped up too.

“Marcy?” Bobby called out from right beside you, just as torn up, but Bobby carried extra weight on his shoulders, “We’re right here, Marcy. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

The muffled grunt of pain, your mom’s attempt to save you from grief, Marcy let out as she turned her head to look at you. You knew deep in your gut that this was the time place you would see your mom alive. And by the look in her eyes, she knew too.

“The...kids…?” Your mom’s breathing became more erratic as she questioned the man she viewed as her hero. The man she believed had saved her and their youngest children, “Where...are they?”

“The kids are fine.” The way your father said it and the tears led to the knowledge once kept from you.

“No.” You whispered, seeing the total grief written clear on his face. The pain meds and agony kept your mom from knowing the truth.

“They’re safe.”

“I knew you’d come and save us.” Your mom breathed as her eyes started hiding the pretty blue you’d now only see in pictures. In your dreams, until even those faded as father time cruelly pulled you along.

Then your worst nightmare happened. You watched as the woman you looked up to flatlined with the thought of her children safe. You’d always know she’d held on just long enough to find out the state of her children. You could only hope she’d forgive your father for lying to her as she died.

“Mom!” You screamed, fighting the arms of an orderly restraining you. You barely noticed the resistance to your frantic attempts.

One minute you were staring at a team unsuccessfully trying to revive your long-gone mother, then you were in a hotel room. The atmosphere tense and quiet between father and daughter, with the ghost of your dead family to keep you both company. You could hear Brook gagging every time you’d kissed your now ex. You could see Bobby toddling after you years ago.

At least you had your father—a father whose guilt festered until he couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“It was my fault.” He murmured, staring at the barely eaten burger that tasted solely just cardboard. He couldn’t bear to look at your face, “I didn’t mean to leave it on.”

Your head snapped to stare at him in disbelief, “What do you mean you didn’t mean to leave it on?”

“I-I went to the roof to sleep after your mom kicked me out. I didn’t have my keys to the apartment I had below ours.” Bobby began spilling the lies he’d told to you about his addictions. Of the apartment, you’d had no clue was even in his possessions.

The pain of losing your family tore into you, “You took my mom away from me. I’ll never get to share my wedding day with her. Shopping for a dress and gossiping about boys. I’ll never be able to wipe Brook’s tears during her first heartbreak.”

Each word broke Bobby more and more.

“You stole my future. You’re selfish, ungrateful and utterly pathetic. You cost so many people so much, all because you sought out your next high.” You spat, glaring at someone you’d never expected to hurt you. You didn’t notice your hands grabbing your possessions nor opening the hotel room door, “You couldn’t even properly try to get clean.”

“Y/N-”

“Get your shit together before you kill anyone else. I never want to see you again.” You sobbed with regret already festering in your body, but pride held you back from apologizing.

Upon your return to your dorm with Dottie by your side, you immediately began the process to enter an exchange program. Within a month, your feet entered Sydney Airport. You didn’t return to America for several years.

You took a job as a casual lifeguard on Bondi Beach, met Lucas in a meet-cute situation at the grocery store. You graduated college and found a job as a paramedic as you began becoming a flight paramedic. In 2020 Lucas and you discovered you’d be bringing in a little baby into the world.

Learning about your little Cashew growing safe in your womb fanned the flame of desire to reconcile. Ultimately the pride kept pushing the urge to apologize for the cruel words you told your father further away. You naively believed you had all the time in the world.  

Remember the six-letter scary word? If losing your mom, siblings, and father was a devastating blow, losing Lucas was nearly tied. Your little Cashew lost their father before they even got to meet him. That was push enough to pack up your home and fly back to America with your father’s new address as soon as you could.

In the fallout of the apartment fire, your father relocated from Minnesota to Los Angeles. 

Los Angeles, 2020

As soon as you’d found the nicest but cheapest hotel to stay in until you found a place, you walked the streets of LA. The first order of business of approaching your father at his workplace as you had no personal address. Residing still in Minnesota, Deputy Chief Evans had only given you the address of Bobby’s work.

You could only hope Bobby wouldn’t turn you away. That he was willing to bridge the gap, you’d widened over the years. That he could forgive the silence to each email, he sent when you changed numbers.

“We should go out to dinner.” The female voice was what brought you back to the present time. The woman was beautiful with her buzzed head and clear skin.

Right by her side was a dark-haired male of Asian ethnicity with a bag thrown over his shoulder, “If you’re paying, you bet I’ll be there.”

The two continued to converse in their own world until the man had to literally dodge you when they finally noticed you.

“Does Chief Bobby Nash work here?” You inquired, having no desire to enter small talk when the baby was sitting on your bladder again. You nearly retched when the man stared down at your swollen midsection, shocked, “It’s not his baby.”

Hen caught the evident disgust on your face, “He’s in his office. I’ll guide you there…”

“Y/N.” You supplied the firefighter. Hen smiled in response, “And your name is…”

“Henrietta Wilson, but you can call me Hen. That was Howard Han. He goes by Chimney, and I’ve been sworn to secrecy on the name.” Hen chuckled in her steps to the closed door of the fire chief. Hen swiftly knocked on the door to give Bobby a heads up.

“Come in!” Bobby called from his pile of paperwork he had pushed and waited to work on. It had slipped as the date came closer. Your twenty-seventh birthday, the seventh one since he last saw you.

“Cap, a woman is asking for you,” Hen told her friend and boss. It’s a good thing you didn’t choose to surprise your father because Hen was shorted, and your bump made manoeuvring around tricky.

“What can I do…” Bobby trailed off when he saw the girl waiting to talk to him. The pen in his hand dropped to the table in shock.

Hen glanced between the two equally taken aback individuals, “Am I missing something here?”

“Hey, dad.” You whispered to the man who’d been dreaming of this moment since the minute you left. He’d searched for you at your previous college and nearly made a missing person report.

“Dad?” Hen couldn’t pick her jaw up from the floor if she even wanted to because this was juicy information. Sure, Bobby had caved into telling his team, his family that he’d lost his wife and two children in a fire.

He rarely talked about his life before the 118, but he’d never mentioned having a surviving daughter. Not in the handful of times he’d talked about the tragedy, nor did he have any objects or photos of you. 

“You’re really here?” Bobby lightly chuckled with a twinkle in his eye. Hen had only seen a handful of times. All of them had Athena in the scene, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” You beamed, stepping closer to the man you’d missed dearly, “I’m so sorry for the way I left. What I said was cruel and untrue. You aren’t selfish, and I can’t blame you for something you couldn’t control.”

Bobby grinned. He’d stepped around his desk only to halt when he took in an undeniable development—the baby bump you carried.

“Is-”

“I’m pregnant. Six months along with a baby girl.” You laughed to the apparent disbelief in your father’s light brown eyes. His gaze continued to shift between the bump and your e/c eyes.

“Wow. Sorry, this is...wow.” 

“She’s one of the reasons I wanted to come back. To fix our relationship because I want her to know her grandpa. You’re the only grandparent Poppy will know.” Bobby was quick to tug you into his arms as soon as the first tear dropped down your cheek.

There was so much you wanted to tell your father, but that overwhelming grief rose higher. You’d left Australia where Lucas laid in a plot in a cemetery. You left the friends you’d found in the city. Left the lifeguard job you’d come to love.

“Where are you and your partner staying?”

“He...uh...Lucas passed away recently.”

The arms holding you tightened in response to your confession, “Oh sweetheart.”

“I didn’t know where else to go. I can’t stay in the home we bought. Not the place he died when I couldn’t save him.”

“I don’t know what happened, but it wasn’-”

“Don’t coddle me. I was...am a paramedic. A flight paramedic, to be specific, so I know that my hesitation could be the reason he died.”

Your career took the father by complete and utter surprise because you’d always planned on a different job. Before the fire that claimed so many lives, you’d never entertained a career in the emergency field.

“We have a lot to catch up on. First, you need to know that I’ll always love your mother no matter what, but you need to know. I met someone when I first moved here, and we were friends at first. She divorced her husband. We started dating...sweetheart, I remarried.”

A wave of emotions flared in your chest, from betrayal to sadness and ultimately happiness. Having lost your first love, you understood and knew if love came around for you, you wouldn’t ignore it. Lucas wouldn’t want that.

“I can’t wait to meet her.”

Re-entering into Bobby’s new life was a difficult adjustment for everyone included. Tension had risen between Athena and Bobby for a brief period. Athena hadn’t even been aware of your existence, but she could fault Bobby. Athena had even told her first husband about her late fiance Emmett when they were still together.

It was difficult for you with the new addition of two step-siblings in the same birth order as Brook and Bobby had been. The Grant siblings had welcomed you into the family without any reservations.

“Did you ever get to fly the chopper?” Harry asked as he scrubbed the dirty dish from the Sunday family dinner. 

It was the first dinner that had no awkward tension since you arrived back in the country. Athena had taken a bit to warm up, but it was nothing personal. She’d actually been the one to find you you’d been staying at a hotel. Mama Athena did not like her pregnant step-daughter living at a hotel. She’d actually stormed your room with Hen and Karen as back up to pack your room and leave for the Grant-Nash house.

“No. I had to help keep the patients alive. If I’m telling the truth...sometimes I didn’t even notice I was in the air.” You whispered to your stepbrother. He was just invested in your career as he had been when Bobby first entered their lives.

“That is so cool!” Harry enthused with soap suds splashing your thin knitted sweater. Harry’s mouth formed an ‘o’ when you flicked water onto his face in retaliation.

“Do you know Bondi Beach in Australia?” You inquired the youth with the chore of dishes completed.

“Yeah! There’s a tv show called Bondi Rescue! I watch the clips on YouTube!” Harry exclaimed, hot on your heels to the couch. Out of May and Harry, he followed you around with questions about your life in Australia.

“I was a casual lifeguard. I’m not featured on that show, but I would get called in when a lifeguard was needed. It paired well with my job as a flight paramedic.” You half-smiled, remembering the Bondi lifeguards who had welcomed you into the family. You became one of them when they started pranking you.

“Did you ever see a shark-”

“Harry, go brush your teeth. Leave Y/N alone.” Athena informed her youngest from the open patio doors. Your father, Athena and May had been outside as soon as the table had been cleared.

“But-”

“Harry,” Athena warned the youngest Grant. Harry didn’t attempt to argue with his stern mother; all he did was hug you quickly. You watched the young boy disappear into the hallway.

“He reminds you of your little brother?” Athena questioned. In your time of reminiscing, the older woman had settled in Harry’s previous position.

“A little.” You whispered, “Thank you for welcoming me into the family. For making my dad happy.”

“You know I may have some baby clothes put away if you’d like to use them?” Athena offered with that smile that made you feel at home. Athena was far different from your late mother, with her presence commanding respect and intelligence. Your mom was similar, but I suppose it could be described as a softer touch.

“Anyway, saving a penny is appreciated. I have a question for you also.” You hesitantly started with a bundle of nerves deep in your belly. Athena turned to give you her full attention.

“Well? Out with it.” Athena pushed, but she had a slight feeling of what you were about to ask her.

“My mom was one the strongest women I know. It hurts that my baby won’t get to experience her love and guidance, and you can say no. We’ve only known each other a short time, but would you consider...maybe being a grandma to my baby?”

Giddy was the feeling Athena developed along with the laughing smile that only came from happiness. The woman could only nod her head in response to your hesitant question. To Athena’s knowledge but not yours, Bobby was softly smiling, watching his formerly estranged daughter getting along with your stepmom.

“Oh!” You gasped as your baby kicked hard enough for her foot imprint to be seen through your knitted sweater. 

Bobby was by your side in concern the second he heard your startled sound, but Athena wasn’t that concerned. Athena remembered having the same reaction.

“Are you okay?” Bobby frantically questioned. He faltered when the woman shared a belly-deep laugh at the sheer fear written in the seasoned firefighter’s eyes.

“Poppy was kicking.” You chuckled as your father’s shoulders dropped in relief, “Here.”

Your nimble fingers clasped around your father’s wrist to bring his palm to the spot Poppy was kicking. A certain lightness flooded your entire body, being capable of sharing this experience with Bobby. Watching tears well up in the grandpa to be’s brown eyes.

“Whoa.” Bobby breathlessly spoke as Poppy kicked against his palm. The feeling building in his was exhilarating with the small amount of grief mixed in, “I remember when your mom was pregnant with you. We didn’t know if we were having a girl or boy, but she was adamant you would be a kickboxer. So active.”

Athena watched as the relationship between father and daughter started healing directly in front of her eyes. The Sergeant was about to give you two some privacy when you caught her hand in your free one.

“Here.” You informed the older woman shifting to place her hand where your father’s hand had previously been. Your e/c eyes sought the wonder-filled different shades of brown eyes the couple had.

“You should get some sleep,” Athena spoke, staring at her hand resting on your bump. Her dark chocolate brown rising to find your gaze, “You won’t be getting a lot once she arrives.”

Bobby and Athena watched as you turned the corner to the spare room Athena’s parents used when they visited. For the time being, you’ve moved into the room, and the Grant-Nash house hoped you would stay. May had always wanted a sister, and Harry loved all the stories you told about Australia.

“You know, at some point, you’ll have to talk to her.”

“I just was-’

“-without anyone else being the buffer. Bobby, both your lives is evidence enough that some things are too trivial to stress over.” Athena pinned her stern gaze on her husband. The same husband is actively trying to avoid her penetrating gaze.

“What I did-’

“Is in the past, Bobby. You have a second chance with that wonderful woman in that bedroom and our grandchild. Now, are you sure that having the party at the firehouse is okay?”

A hand supported the base of your back where an ache tended to stay for most of the day. That ache wasn’t the worst symptom of your pregnancy. You had heartburn constantly that tied with unfortunate constipation that had thankfully lessened. Your purse always had a cardigan for the hot flashes as well.

“Perfect! May has my car, and Bobby needed that.” Athena beamed from the open bay of the 118. One of the firefighters, Eddie, if you recalled, snagged your purse and the specific ingredient for a recipe.

“You could have borrowed Bobby’s-”

“His vehicle is in the shop Buck.” Athena interrupted the only member of the 118 you had let to officially meet.

Now there were two suspects of the sudden shortness of breath you started experiencing. It could be Poppy in the limited space in your body or the handsome firefighter. Buck had to be hands down none of the most attractive men you’d ever encountered. His dark blonde hair had minimal height, but the soft waves made your fingers itch to feel it. His ocean blue eyes crinkled at the corners with mirth.

“Ah, so you’re flesh and blood of Cap?” Buck questioned from in front of you. His blue eyes centred solely on you, with half a mind thanking himself that he could navigate the station blindfolded in the dark.

“For the last twenty-seven years, I have been.” You retorted, stopping at the edge of the stairs to the apparatus. Your keen sense of smell catching one of your favourite meals your father had dug up from the recipes he hadn’t used in years.

A zing of electricity trailed off your arm when a calloused palm met yours. Your e/c eyes followed the path of tan skin until it reached the shirt sleeve of Buck’s t-shirt. The shirt emblazoned on the chest with the department’s insignia. The man in the casual uniform guided you safely up the stairs with his hand on your back.

The pressure of Buck’s hand on your aching back muscle nearly brought what would be an embarrassing moan from your lips. Thankfully a gasp of surprise fell out instead at the banner hanging with other decorations.

“What?” You choked, cupping your hands to your face. Pure unadulterated shock and affection flooded every inch of you.

The entire 118 squad intermixed with their loved ones surrounded the open area with grins. On a table behind everyone was many wrapped gifts. But the cake was the most impressive.

A large rectangular cake in the realistic shape of a fire engine parked in front of a fire hydrant with a fondant hose going to the truck. On top of the fire truck was the turnout boots next to the matching helmet, the 118 proudly on it. You adored the turnout coat draping off the top to hang off the side.

“If you look at the helmet, it says Poppy.” Buck enthused, guiding you even closer to catch the immaculate cake, “It has to be the best cake we’ve gotten from them.”

“Hey, my rebar head cake was phenomenal!” Chimney called with a belying grin on his face. His hand encased by a brunette woman about his height with her heels on.

“It’s a long story.” Buck offered as soon as you gave him a weird questioning look, “Let me introduce you to everyone!”

For the next five minutes, you spend it by meeting the family of 118, including Eddie’s completely adorable son. Christopher was happy to sit next to you as soon as Harry had found you. Slowly the others came closer to hear the stories.

“What’re the most common injuries on the beach?” Denny, Hen and Karen’s ten-year-old son questioned.

“Bluebottle Jellyfish stings. On one day, we had hundreds of people come to the tower for stings, and the treatment for the minor ones is stingose spray and ice.”

“My question is how a girl from Minnesota is a lifeguard in Australia. Especially on Sydney’s most dangerous beach.” Chimney inserted, waving his bottle of pop at you, his eyes kept moving towards the wine Maddie brought.

Unfortunately, the 118 wouldn’t be celebrating with the wine until their shifts ended in a few short hours. It was a damn miracle they hadn’t been called out yet.

“This former Minnesotan spent summers at my best friend’s parents’ place in Cali as a lifeguard. Also, Bondi is not the most dangerous beach in Sydney. That’s Tamarama.” You pointed towards the man who raised his hands in surrender.

“Have you ever seen a dead body?” Harry asked, bringing a sobering silence in the question’s wake.

Your body language changed as soon as he asked, “Unfortunately, I’ve seen death as a paramedic and as a lifeguard.”

“You’re a paramedic? I thought you were just a lifeguard?” Buck asked, interested in the new information. Buck could feel his Captain’s eyes on the back of his head; he was sure Bobby could smell the attraction on Buck.

“Casual lifeguard. Called when needed as a backup.” You turned your e/c eyes towards the arguably youngest member of the 118.

“How many dead-”

“Harry.” Athena warned her son from continuing a topic that killed the ease and happiness you’d shown previously, “Why don’t we stop talking about-”

“Too many, Harry.” You interrupted your stepmom with a gentle smile towards the woman, “It’s not just drowning that claims lives but also the cliffs surrounding the beaches. Lifeguards patrol more than the beaches and water. Lifeguards respond to medical emergencies, mostly spinal until the paramedics arrive.”

“Oh-”

“I had a fellow lifeguard leave the job because of the suicides we deal with.”

“...who wants cake?” Karen used the quiet interlude of the much too serious topic for a group of kids barely in the double digits of ages. All referenced children followed Hen’s life to the beautiful baked creation.

“Sorry for getting dark there.”

“We all know the dark side of the jobs we chose to do. You sound like you miss Australia. Are you going to return there?” Eddie questioned with one eye pinned on his son, consuming more sugar than he wished.

Eddie’s question did raise self-doubt, but you knew that ultimately living in Australia was no longer a viable option. 

“There’s nothing there for me.”

Eddie, Buck and your father understood that mentality to a ‘t’ with family complications keeping them away. Your father for obvious reasons, whereas Eddie and Buck each had a living family with opinions only they saw right.

“You’re always welcome here. Especially when you bring that little cutie to the firehouse.” Maddie cooed towards your baby bump. The 911 dispatcher had asked many questions about your pregnancy.

 Maddie was the type of person who could make a stranger feel like they had known for their entire lives.

“Here.”

A plate of the cake was thrust in front of your face courtesy of Maddie’s brother Buck. It is quite literally the perfect size you could ask for. In his other hand, he had a new bottle of water waiting for you to grab.

“Thank you, Buck.” Your shock must have shown in your voice when his cheeks flushed.

“This whole party is a celebration for you, so you shouldn’t have to get up...unless you want to!” Buck rushed to respond, getting more flustered with the amused look of his older sister on him, “You’re already doing something absolutely amazing, so you should get to rela-”

“Buck!” You laughed, ending the older man’s rambling thoughts. The entire party attendees had started watching Buck’s failed smooth attempt.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

Buck mutely nodded in response, “No prob-”

The bell was the one to interrupt him instead. The on-duty firefighters rushed down from the upper levels to the lockers. The swift suiting up impressed you as it was like you blinked, and the bay was empty.

“Should be the last call before they get off shift.” Maddie, still occupied with the cake she was eating, “That wine looks so good!”

Your attention snapped from the vacant spots the 118 vehicles parked to the woman ploughing down on the cake. Sure it was good, but not that good. Maybe you could tell as a pregnant woman, or perhaps you just caught some of the symptoms you felt.

“How far along are you?”

Maddie froze, “What are you talk-”

“You’re pregnant, right?”

“Don’t tell anyone. Chim and I found out recently, but we want to wait on telling people. Once the first trimester is over, everyone can know.” Maddie pleaded with two hands cupped under her chin in a prayer position. The pretty brunette using the puppy dog eyes on the new friend she’d made.

“You should tell Buck-”

“We will once we enter the safe zone. So tell me about your baby’s father.” Maddie swiftly changed the subject, unaware of the ache developing in your midsection.

“Lucas Gowan.” You mussed, recalling the freckled half Australian half Scots man with the thick red locks.

“Ooh, is he still in Australia?”

“Technically, he is. I met him at the grocery store near the university campus. I’d transferred to escape my grief. It was purely an attraction at first sight before developing into love at first sight. We convocated and moved into a cosy little place. We’d only just found out about the baby when Lucas passed away.”

As you told Maddie, your hand had moved to cradle the only remaining piece of Lucas. 

“His death was unexpected and sudden. He’d taken a run the morning of our scan to find out baby Gowan’s gender. He fell off the side of the cliff. I was told he died instantly. The investigator believes his shoelace untied, and he stepped on it. Fell right off the side.”

“I’m so sorry.” Maddie breathed, leaning closer to hold your hands in her own, “He’d be so proud of you. For returning to the states. Do you keep in contact with his family?”

“He was an only child. Parents died in a car accident when he was ten years old. He was in foster care until he aged out of the system. Poppy is named after his mom.”

Maddie instinctively knew talking about Lucas was, “You know you get along pretty well with Buck... I’ve never seen him so flustered.”

“Maddie, I can tell you are a very intelligent woman, but you’re wrong here. Why would a guy like Buck be interested in a pregnant woman with a reconciling relationship with her father and his Captain while grieving her baby’s dad?”

Maddie tilted her head to the side, “Because I know my brother. He’s only ever had that look when I first moved to LA. Back when Abby was still important to him.”

“We’ll just have to agree to disagree.”

Maddie’s mouth opened to speak, but you were saved by the bell when Athena called you over for pictures. Then her attempts got thwarted once more when the 118 returned to the house perfectly synced to the end of shift.

“Driving here was the last time until the baby’s here. You’ve got precious cargo-”

“I’m seven months pregnant; I can still drive. There’s no law saying I can’t-”

Never argue with Athena Grant-Nash, “It may not be illegal, but I won’t endanger my daughter or my granddaughter.”

“I have to get to my OB/GYN appointment tomorrow. You and Dad each have a long shift during my scheduled appointment. Harry is both too young to drive and in school. May has a shift at dispatch. There’s literally no one available to take me.”

Bobby watched as two of the most important women in his life argued over something as trivial as driving. Harry shook at listening to someone fighting against his mother; she could be terrifying.

“I can take her.”

Everyone in the fir house turned to the voice who’d offered suddenly and found the sheepish form of a tall firefighter. Eddie’s eyebrows raised at his best friend.

“I don’t work tomorrow. I’ve got no plans. Albert’s got some date with a girl at her place.”

“I couldn’t put you out.”

“You need a ride, and I’ll be bored, so why not take my new friend to her baby doctor.”

“Baby doctor?” Hen parroted to her wife in astonishment towards her coworker and close friend. Both the women found the blatant flirting from Buck to the soon to be mother.

“She’ll take you up on the offer. She’s staying in our guest room. Come early for breakfast before you go. We’ll be having waffles.”

Buck found any excuse to visit the Grant-Nash home with the motive to hang out with you ever since the baby shower. From delivering baked goods from your favourite bakery to insisting on driving you to appointments. Didn’t matter if Athena or Bobby could take you; Buck was adamant he drove you.

The friendship was easy going and very natural, like a ball glove still moulded perfectly to your hand. The hangouts in your home evolved to weekly visits to restaurants with guidelines to the current event happening worldwide. 

Ultimately it even led to a test date.

“You look breathtaking.” Buck breathlessly informed you once he’d gently pushed your chair closer to the table.

“Thank you.” You kindly responded despite thinking the complete opposite to the charming man sitting across from you.

Athena and May had helped you get ready for the date with calming words on how going on a date so far into the pregnancy was okay. Then, your father had tentatively inserted himself with sage advice on re-entering the dating scene.

“I thought we could grab some ice cream after,” Buck spoke up as soon as the waiter had taken your drink order. Buck had decided to refrain from alcohol and went with glasses of lemonade and water.

“You shouldn’t say that. I’ll just want ice cream.” You snickered, caressing the taut belly you’d grown to love. In fact, the firm push of a heel announced Poppy’s agreement with ice cream as dessert.

“How is Poppy?”

“The doc says she’s right on track. Healthy all around and in the position, she’s supposed to be at this stage.” Buck adored the affectionate smile that always appeared when the topic of your pregnancy was brought up.

“That’s amazing! Bobby gushes about you and Poppy. The fridge has an entire door dedicated to sonograms of Poppy. Even a few from that maternity shoot Hen and Maddie surprised you with.”

A few weeks had passed since the baby shower the 118 had surprised you with. Maddie had announced her pregnancy to the joy of the chosen family she had. Bobby had put together a crib he had painted. Michael, Athena’s ex-husband, had started making plans for adding on to the house for a room for the baby.

Despite informing the architect, you planned on moving out when you had saved enough, he’d made a sound argument. Athena would want a place for the baby to stay when you visited, or the woman demanded to babysit.

Now you found yourself in a National forest not far from Los Angeles, posing in front of nature. A surprise photoshoot Hen and Karen had organized with Karen’s brother Trey. Maddie and Athena had been the ones who drove you.

“Hold the teddy bear on your bump,” Trey informed you from behind his professional and intimidating camera. The photographer praised you in the rapid movement to listen to his offer.

“Hey! Maddie! You should take a few photos. I need a pee break.” You didn’t wait for Maddie to respond in your rush to the somewhat rustic bathroom hut.

By the time you returned, Maddie was taking a couple pictures. Then you took some with Athena to have on the nursery walls and for Bobby to have a photo for his desk.

“Now one with all three of you.”

Present

“So a daredevil.” You stated unsurprised that the firefighter had a history of recklessness. You don’t go into firefighting without a taste for danger.

“The bruises and blood fit better than the awful bleached hair during my time in Peru.” Buck laughed, recalling the questionable choice in his fashion pre-firefighting. Sometimes he missed the people he encountered in his period of self-discovery.

“You didn’t wear puka sh-”

“I did. Bleached hair, puka shells and Hawaiian shirts were my staples during my bartending years. I fit in with the aesthetic of the bar I tended.”

“Buck!” You nearly gasped at his raw honesty. Buck didn’t hold back any answers to your questions, but you each strayed from the topic of family.

Talking about the tragic family history wasn’t a good idea on the first time regardless of the time you’d known each other.

“You’re telling me-” Buck halted as soon as he caught the flash of discomfort flicker over your beautiful features, “Are you okay?”

“She shifted. Been sitting on my blad-” You cut yourself off with a hiss of pain. Buck’s eyes widened at the pain taking over your features, “Oh, that hurt.”

Buck went straight into work mode, “Have you been in pain for long?”

“No. A few cramps here and there today, but my doctor said it was nothing to worry about.” You informed the experienced first responder resting level to your knees.

Buck didn’t want to say it, but he was sure that you’d gone into early labour. There was no indication your water had broken, but he kept over the last hour together. Every once in a while, you shifted or pressed a hand to your bump.

“Has your water broken?”

You shook your head, “No, but...oh... that’s not a cramp.”

With that statement out, you clenched your fingers tight on the edge of the table as pain rippled in your belly. A contraction that stole your breath momentarily. In your contraction, Buck had dialled 911. Buck recalled that sometimes a woman’s water doesn't break until right before the birth.

“We’re not getting that ice cream, are we?” You snorted upon being lifted onto the gurney. How fortunate or unfortunate you were to have the 118 right there.

Hen had taken a position at your feet to check on your lower body while Chimney took your vital signs. You honestly didn’t like the look Hen and Chimney shared with Buck.

“What is it?”

“We’re gonna need to deliver here.” Hen sighed, giving you the facts that terrified you. When you envisioned having the baby, it was in a medical centre. Not in a restaurant.

“My office is large and away from the crowd if you want. I can show you the way.” Sophie, the restaurant manager, offered already starting to lead the way. Sophie would never know how thankful you felt for being able to have privacy.

“Okay, Y/N, is it okay if I check how dilated you -.” Hen breathed with her hand, gently disappearing until the thin blanket Chimney procured from the stocked ambulance, “Y/N when I saw I want you to do that.”

Hen didn’t need to check your dilation when she could see the baby’s head already.

“I’m right here.” Buck cooed in your ear. He had held your hand as his coworkers did their jobs around you.

“This isn’t the way I envisioned you seeing my pu-”

“Push.” Hen urged, cutting off your almost vulgar language, but it eased the tension in the small restaurant office. You couldn’t even see Buck’s flustered reaction as you bore down with the contraction, “Good! Take a breath.”

“You’re a strong woman. It never ceases to amaze me the strength women have.” Buck spoke, keeping your e/c eyes on his blue ones. His hand raised to push a strand of your sweaty hair off your temple.

“Once more push!” Hen called out just in time with the last contraction. The feeling of the pressure between your legs popping was moan inducing.

Poppy was silent. Your entire body froze, yearning for the sweet sound of crying instead of the eerie silence. The world stood still as Chimney worked on your baby girl.

“Pulse is strong,” Chimney announced, keeping his attention on the task of clearing Poppy’s throat and nose. And that sweet sound of crying commenced, “Congratulations Y/N, you have a beautiful baby girl. Let’s get you to the hospital.”

Your father beat the ambulance to the nearest ER in pure anticipation at meeting his granddaughter Poppy Nash Gowan. He barely noticed as Buck stuck to your side like glue. Bobby waited outside the door as you got checked over in the room.

“Quite the first date.” You mused towards Buck, who hovered in awe over the life form you had carried for nine months. You’d been pregnant for three quarters of an entire year to his fascination. 

“All my meaningful relationships started with a medical emergency.” Buck finally looked up at you. He’d kept Poppy company in the bassinet while you delivered the afterbirth upon entering the hospital.

“Seriously?”

“Had a tracheostomy on Valentine’s Day with Abby, an earthquake with Ali and a newscaster in a crashed helicopter.” Buck listed off. He hadn’t even noticed scooping the newborn into his arms until he’d sat in the chair by your bed, “Why not add a sudden labour and delivery.”

“He would have liked you.”

The sentence came out of absolutely nowhere. Almost like something had ripped it out of your vocal cords. At the look of confusion, you elaborated.

“Lucas. He would have liked you. I think if it is possible, he might have pushed me into meeting you. I’ll still need to take it slow, but I’d like to give this a shot.”

That was all Buck needed to lean in closer to kiss you—the first of many kisses.

Some might disagree on how quick your relationship with Buck developed, but they didn’t know yours at all. It was natural with the firefighter who stepped into the role of father figure for a growing Poppy. By the time Poppy was one, you’d moved into a house not far from your father’s place with Buck. By the time Poppy was three, a pretty ring had sat on your finger. By five, the young girl had a baby brother. 

“Your parents spoil Poppy.”

“You say that like you didn’t crawl into her crib during her afternoon naps.” You deadpanned towards your husband. Buck had the nerve to sheepishly grin, “You give in each time she says ‘pwetty pwease’ for a cookie.”

“It’s a crime to make her sad!” Buck defended himself, but a grin of amusement threatened his act, “Besides, you crack each time too!”

“Mhm. Just wait until Theo can talk.” You pressed a kiss to the sleeping infant strapped into the baby carrier. Theodore Robert Buckley could fall asleep in a thunderstorm if he was in Buck’s arms.

“Oh! Maddie wants to have Poppy over for a play date. Madster’s been begging for her cousin to have a sleepover.”

Maddie and Chimney’s daughter was only a few months younger than your daughter, but the two were thick as thieves. Buck had referred to the Han daughter as Madster with how similar her mannerisms were to her mother.

“Think they’d take the rascal?”

“Is this code for you wanting to have another?” Buck questioned with a twinkle of mischief in his blue eyes. The same blue Theo had inherited along with a birthmark like Buck’s on his bicep.

“I-” You choked, blinking furiously, “Evan, I pushed Theo out of my body barely three months ago!”

Buck inconspicuously winked in response with the sudden scream of excitement coming from Poppy. The rambunctious five-year-old ploughed into Buck’s legs full force. Falling into the practised ease, you’d unstrapped Theo from Buck’s chest and promptly had his tiny body stolen into his grandpa’s arms.

“There’s my boy.” Bobby cooed to the sleep drunk tiny infant. The little baby is crowded by his Gram Athena and Aunt May, “Gonna have to get you a Minnesota Wilds jersey.”

“Hell no. That boy is LA born and bred. He’ll be wearing a Kings jersey like the civilized.” Michael announced with the sudden arrival of Theo and Poppy’s Uncle Harry.

“Mommy? When are we going to Stralia?” Poppy inquired from right beside your leg. Her tiny handheld is the giant one of her dad.

“In a few weeks. Are you excited to see the mommy’s old friends again?”

“Hm. Can we see Dada?”

Buck may be Poppy’s father, but he’d never let Poppy go without knowing she had two fathers in all. Her first one waiting to meet here decades from the time she was born and solely referenced Lucas as Dada. Buck was grateful for the man who brought Poppy into existence; the little green-eyed tot Buck could never regret. Unlike Buck’s parents keeping his older brother’s existence a secret, the firefighter refused to follow in their footsteps. He’d continue to shower the late Lucas in gratitude and respect. He refused to make the same mistakes as Phillip and Margaret Buckley.

“Of course. C’mon Poppy, time to say goodbye.” Buck guided the little girl to the extended family showering her little brother with love. The little girl was quickly swung into Bobby’s arms, and Athena cooing at your infant son.

Changes. The six-letter word doesn’t have to be terrifying. It can be breathtaking, memorable and beautiful to experience. 

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Spoiled Rotten (Reid Fic)

Summary: After Spencer went radio silent on Reader while he was in prison, their pride and stubbornness threatens to tear them apart forever. Reader’s forced to mourn the death of who they were and experience the inner turmoil of navigating who they are.

A/N: Y’all are gonna kill me for the ending, but it’s one hell of a way to go.  Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Category: Angst Content Warning: Imprisonment, humiliation, abandonment, anger, frustration, angst, yelling, fighting Word Count: 5.3k Playlist: Traitor by Olivia Rodrigo

Time jumps are indicated by “. . .” or “_ _ _”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

A rather unfortunate predicament we’ve found ourselves in tonight. I can’t say I’ve ever been quite this uncomfortable in my life, yet I’m careful not to speak too soon. Because I know the second Spencer opens his mouth to break the silence we’re currently sitting in, I’ll stand corrected. 

“You’re breathing really hard,” He tells me out of nowhere. 

See, I stand corrected. 

Now that I’ve become hyper aware of my own inhale and exhale, my respiration is just that much more restricted. I’m practically holding my breath at this moment - both from the anticipation of catching this unsub in the act and giving Spencer one less thing to scrutinize about me. 

“I didn’t say you had to stop breathing,” He tacks on as if it would put me any more at ease. Not that if he had explicitly said such a thing, I would’ve. 

Unlike other people, I wasn’t exactly jumping at the chance to throw myself at his feet so he’d like me. But to use that as grounds for his disdain would be foolish. Our rancor went deeper than the basic lack of synergy between us. 

And in the spirit of getting to the bottom of that abyssal pit, I finally asked the question with words that always seemed to hang above but never would form. 

“Why was I the only one denied visitation while you were in prison?” 

It may surprise you to know that it wasn’t always like this between us; we were actually close once, although it is hard to imagine that version of us ever really existing. However, if I think about it hard enough, I can remember with perfect clarity who we used to be. 

. . .

“Jeez, you really don’t like these things do you?” I nudged him playfully before feeling instantly guilty once I witnessed the result of my shove that must’ve been a little too much for all 120 (at most) pounds of him. I’d neglected to remember the strength I held over the lanky Doctor as well as neglected to notice where the trajectory of my push would land him - in the direct line of a circus clown walking the opposite direction as us. This, of course, brought him face to face with the character. Unfortunately, I managed to catch a glimpse of the lens of Spencer’s glasses grazing the white face paint of the caricature. 

After a shudder of mortification and a very brave shriek, Spencer ran to my other side to be as far away from the clown as possible and apparently, as close to me as possible. From a distance, you’d think we were conjoined simply by the way he was glued to me - shoulder to shoulder, elbow to elbow, hip to hip, thigh to thigh. 

While removing his glasses to clean them off with the hem of his blazer, he answered, “Carnivals? I mean, what’s not to like? What with the loud noises, the heart-attack-inducing food that’s more grease than actual food, or the sheer amount of bacteria harboring on each and every handle, hoop, ball, or button of these ridiculous game booths.” 

“Wow, you really don’t like carnivals.” I should’ve figured. 

“Nope. Never have and probably never will.” 

As someone who looked forward to the fair every summer of her childhood, any aversion to carnivals broke my heart. I had a fondness for them borne in adolescence that I couldn’t quite justify now in my adulthood. 

“But they’re fun!” was the best argument I could muster. The whine in my voice being provoked by the possibility that the higher the shrill of my pitch, the easier he’d be to sway. Turns out, Dr. Reid was not nearly as susceptible to my auditory persuasion as I might’ve thought he was. Just a stone cold, inconvincible slab of steel. 

“I’m sorry. I know you brought me here because you love these things, but I just can’t get past the ...” He surveyed the fair, ostensibly against his will, in search of the perfect word to describe our surroundings. “Filth.”

I would’ve argued in the defense of the carnival, mentioning how it’s endearing that the only bathrooms for miles were porta potties, and that the screaming, crying, sticky children galore just added to the attraction, and that there was a hidden charm to the way the roller coasters creaked beyond their means with every ride. 

But to an extent, I agreed. It was rather filthy, and I wasn’t much of a germaphobe myself so to someone like him, this would be hell on earth. 

“Well, you get what you put into it. If you’re willing to overlook some minor imperfections, I really think you’d enjoy this place.” 

Spencer by now had his hands in his pockets and his walking pace had slowed to a complete halt. There was a moment of skepticism, followed by a partially open smile to make way for the laughter that escaped from the disbelief that he felt for letting me break his resolve so easily. 

“Alright then. What do you want to do first, Brat?” 

The nickname I’d earned could be seen as meanspirited, but truly, it was affectionately diminutive. Like all good nicknames are. And like the proclaimed Brat I was, I’d taken him to all my favorite parts of the fair. 

First came the bumper cars to ease him into the experience - as ironic as that sounds. He was reluctant to submerge his gangly body into a mini vehicle, much less one that’d been inhabited by God knows how many people before us, but he pushed his reservations aside when he realized he’d get to slam into my car (safely, of course). 

Secondly, we went on the Carousel, but this was only in preparation for the real ride that I wanted to take him on next - the Swinging Chairs. He’d gotten a little nauseous, from both the repetitive circling and the galvanized chains he had to hold that were definitely held by several others. 

He had no interest in going on the Gravitron - super lame, I know - so we opted for the Ferris Wheel instead. I didn’t mind making this compromise so much after recognizing all that he’d done for my benefit that night. And for his generosity and selflessness, I thought it only fitting to end the night going somewhere so tame he couldn’t possibly have any opposition to it.

The photo booth.

The booth in particular we’d gone to was smaller than an airplane bathroom, if you can imagine that. The bench seat was barely wide enough to fit Spencer, let alone seat the both of us. While he didn’t explicitly make the offer to let me sit on his lap, it was kind of a give in that I’d have some part of my body intertwined around him like stubborn ivy. 

. . .

I still laugh thinking about the tangled mess of limbs we were below what the camera couldn’t capture. It was arguably the furthest extent of contortionist work I wanted to do in my lifetime, and henceforth exceedingly uncomfortable, and yet, I’d never felt more at home than when I was in his arms. 

That night he would tear off the top three photos to keep for himself while I kept the bottom three photos. 

To this day, I have never seen the pictures that he kept, and I’m left to wonder if he had them at all.

Because I still have mine. And they were virtually the only thing keeping me sane throughout his trial and subsequent imprisonment. 

Six Months Ago ...

My eyes were locked on the loose thread of my cardigan that I was rolling between my fingers anxiously. 

“Would you stop that?” Penelope swatted my hand away from my sweater. “You’re making me nervous just looking at you.” She grumbled. 

“Sorry,” I apologized bleakly.

A few seconds later she groaned again, making me think I was still doing something bothersome, but it turned out to be just the opposite. “Ugh, I know that sounded mean, and I hate when I sound mean, but I can feel my forehead creasing from the stress, and watching you fidget is going to give me an ulcer.”

“I wish I could help it. I’m just really worried about him.”

“Well I am, too, but that’s not gonna do us any good right now. All we can do is hope for the best.”

Sometimes Penelope’s overly optimistic view on life was futile and unwelcome, and truthfully, this was one of those times. 

“Penny?” 

As she turned her head, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the lenses of her dark green glasses. I could see my own mournful expression as I asked, “What if he’s found guilty?” 

She started to say something but stopped herself. “Right now, all we need to focus on is his bail. We can worry about a verdict later.” She put her hand on top of mine and shook it briefly to remind me that we were in this together. 

Moments later recess was over and the team came trudging back into the courtroom. 

The sound of the judge clearing her throat and our footsteps on the floor made this feel all too normal. 

How could Spencer’s life be hanging in the balance in such a place as non-intimate as this? 

It frustrated me how casual things felt today and how everyone was acting normally. Prentiss had yet to bat an eye, Rossi’s stoic expression never changed, and Penelope was telling me not to worry. Everyone was acting so aloof. 

My eyes darted to Spencer, who was looking back at us woefully. I couldn’t bear to see him like that any longer, so I kept my head down and stared at my feet after I took my seat. 

Even when I closed my eyes, I was haunted by the vision of him in a suit, just like one he’d wear to work. But instead, he was wearing it for this - this vastly different situation. 

I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to look at him the same in one anymore. I’ll probably just remember this particular look on his face, in this god awful courtroom, during this horribly nauseating circumstance. 

If one thing was for certain, it was that this would all come back to me if I ever laid eyes on him in a suit, and that thought fucking terrified me. 

Because that one thought spiraled into the next: Everything was bound to change after this. Every little thing would change in every little way. 

Spencer’s lawyer, the judge, and the prosecutor were going back and forth for a while, but I tuned it all out because I knew if I had tuned in, I wouldn’t have been able to hold back my arguments. Eventually, though, I heard something I could no longer ignore. 

“If past behavior is the best indicator of future conduct, and I do believe it is, then your client presents a flight risk.”

I stood up immediately, getting a head rush from the speed. I knew what was to follow, so I needed to be on my feet the second I heard it. Maybe so I could run and escape before I had to.

“Bail is denied. The defendant will remain in federal custody pending trial.” 

“Spencer!” I shouted, losing all the composure I’d been trying to maintain. I reached for him as if he was at any capacity to reach back and hold me. God, I needed him to hold me. Hold me like how he did at the carnival. 

Hold me.

Luke held me back as I fought to be near him.

“Let me go!” I screamed, trying to break free of his tight grip. Spencer could only stand and stare, mirroring my own wistful glance. He mouthed something to me that I couldn’t quite make out, but if I knew him at all, he probably said something about not wanting me to worry about him. 

“(Y/n), (y/n) it’s gonna be alright.” JJ reasoned, pulling me into a hug. 

“How long before this case goes to trial?” I heard Prentiss whisper to Spencer’s lawyer. 

“It’s a complicated case. I’d say three months maybe?” 

Immediately, I worked myself out of JJ’s arms and pushed my way through the team, running up to the barrier between us.

“Spence!” I cried out in anguish. 

To the sound of my voice, he glanced over his shoulder sadly. He wasn’t even shocked I’d been able to get so close to him - he seemed to expect it, and for that, he was sad. Because he knew if I was going to be as stubborn as to fight to get to him at this hearing, then I was going to be stubborn enough to reach him in prison, too. And should he find himself behind bars, he knew that I’d get to him one way or another. 

That is if he’d let me. 

“Be strong,” He weakly smiled. ‘For me’ his sad eyes begged in addition. He held my gaze for as long as he possibly could before disappearing into another room. 

As I watched him walk away, I could feel my heart shattering and crumbling into the pit of my stomach. Perhaps that was a premonition, a true gut feeling, telling me something I at the time couldn’t have known and wouldn’t have accepted. 

That was the last time I would see Spencer. 

People always say when something unbelievable happens, it doesn’t feel real, but this? Nothing felt more real and more intense than this. 

There was no other way for me to see this situation but as the first defeat in an endless line of them.

If Spencer was denied bail, what else could happen to him? Could he be found guilty too? Because prior to this, the denial of his bail seemed impossible. He posed no flight risk, but according to the judge, he did. So if what I once thought to be impossible happened, then it could and would happen again.

I knew Spencer was going to be found guilty.

What I didn’t know, though, was how I was going to live with myself from then on.

I didn’t go that day. 

I knew myself too well. So did the others, which is why they didn’t object to my decision not to come to Spencer’s trial. They knew I was better off staying home. Especially, if there was the chance that I might react hysterically again.

I didn’t stay home, though. That part the team never found out about. 

I went to visit Diana instead. A much wiser choice, in my opinion. 

“You know, we’ve been talking so much about Spencer today, but we haven’t talked about you yet,” said Diana. 

“Yeah, I guess that’s true.” I feigned a polite smile. 

“You thought I wouldn’t notice?” She tilted her chin downward and gave me that sly grin of hers. 

“No, no, of course not. I know better than to underestimate the Diana Reid.” I quipped, making her smile widen. “I just figured you’d wanna spend your time talking about someone much more interesting.” 

“Oh please, Spencer and I talk about you all the time.”

I perked up from the checker piece I was fiddling with. “You do?”

“Mhm,” She nodded over and over again. “I always knew there was something between you two because you could always talk about each other to me, but for some reason, you could never actually talk to each other.”

For the first time in months, I genuinely laughed and I couldn’t help it. “He makes me nervous! I always feel like he might correct something I say, or tell me that there’s food in my teeth.” 

“You know, now that you mention it, I do remember him saying something about seeing a really big piece of lettuce in your teeth one time.” 

“Diana!” I squealed, pushing the checkerboard at her, pretending to take offense. 

“I really don’t know what you’re so nervous about! I think it would be good if you just talked to him.” 

“It’s, um, it’s not that simple. Not right now, at least.” 

My energy quickly nose-dived and I tried to do my best to hide it from Diana, but it permeated through the rest of the visit. I couldn’t fully enjoy myself after it. 

The team and I all agreed not to let Diana know, especially not with the uncertainty of the case. There was no point riling her up if there was nothing to be worried about. And I could only imagine how I reacted - Diana would be reacting 10 times more hysterically. 

But as much as I hated to say it, I almost would’ve rather been in her position. 

I would give anything to un-know Spencer’s circumstance.

Present Time ...

In this car, there was nowhere for him to run or hide, not like before.

Anytime I so much as entered his gravity by being in the same room, he’d flee the space in the next breath. Granted, he couldn’t really avoid me entirely. We did have to be on the same flight for an extended period of time, but he made that work by letting me choose my spot first, then choosing a spot directly on the opposite side of the jet. 

What a gentleman, huh?

“Kudos to you, by the way. For managing to avoid me for this long. I imagine it’s been as not-easy as it has been incredibly-cowardly.” My words stung as they flowed from my lips as badly as I imagine they seared his already cracked skin. I couldn’t believe that now that I finally had the opportunity to talk to him, I was using it to be petty and passively aggressive. But then again, I could. 

Because after what he put me through, he deserved to feel the full severity of my indignation.

My only wish was that he knew exactly how I had felt when I found out. 

. . .

Icarus. 

He died tragically while using artificial wings, invented by his father, to escape from the Labyrinth. When Icarus flew too close to the sun, it melted the wax that held the wings together, and he fell into the sea.

‘Don’t fly too close to the sun.’ That’s the moral of the story. That’s what Reid was trying to tell me. But I didn’t listen. 

I flew too close. 

I had approached the window with more zeal than this predicament warranted. 

“I’m (y/n) (y/l/n). I’m here to see Spencer Reid, R-E-I-D,” I eagerly spelt his last name with ease as though it were my own last name. 

She’d flipped back and forth between pages, running her index finger up and down the sheet for far too long that it made me worry. Turns out, I had every right to be worried. 

“I don’t see you on the list, ma’am.” 

I was so mindnumbingly dumb that I couldn’t even see how dumb I was being. “Oh no no no, I’m with the FBI. I called earlier and left a message, remember?” 

“Yeah, I remember you,” She smiled politely, giving me the tiniest fragment of hope. “But you’re not on his list.” Only for it to be shattered in an instant. 

I had yet to process or accept this information. “So what does that mean?”

“It means he doesn't wanna see you right now. And frankly, neither do I. Next!” 

“Wait, could you just please check with him? My name is (y/n) -” 

“Ma’am, you are holding up a whole line of people that wanna see their loved ones too, so I suggest you see yourself out before I call security to help see you out.” 

I knew by her tone of the word ‘help’ that meant a prison guard would most likely forcibly remove me from the premises, and the last thing I needed was to feel even more humiliated. 

I got plenty of that when I had to come back to the BAU. 

“You’re not on the list?” Luke seemed genuinely shocked. More so than I was. Above all, I just felt really stupid. 

“I’m sure it was just a mistake.” Stephen reasoned. He was so good at being level-headed. Which normally, I would’ve loved. But right now, it only fueled the fire burning in my chest.

“That’s what I thought at first, too. But later on, she asked him herself, and he said - and I quote, ‘I don’t want to see her. Not now. Not ever.’”

. . .

Those were the words that seared my skin, and he hadn’t even spoken them directly to me to do it. 

The words that did just enough to heal me back to health were, of course, Penelope’s.

“Since you haven’t seen him yet, the rest of us will just wait until you have. It’s only fair that you have your first turn before the rest of us go back for a second time.” 

Back then, it was easy to hold out hope, but the more and more time passed, the more he kept denying my visits. Therefore, the more my hope began to fade. 

It had been weeks since anyone else had seen him before I finally surrendered. Although I had newly-brewing sourness towards Reid, it didn’t feel fair to deny him everyone else’s presence until mine was permitted. 

Luke was the one who volunteered to visit first. And to my dismay, Spencer didn’t fight against it. 

The proof was finally there. Now I could say with absolute certainty: Spencer just didn’t want to see me. 

It was both ironic and utterly frustrating to think about how I’d never gone more than two weeks without seeing him. Even when the BAU got time off after big cases, we’d always spend that time together. The longest we’d spent apart was 12 days. And right when he came back to D.C, we were attached at the hip for the next week, trying to compensate for all that time we were apart. 

Now, look at us. I haven’t said one word to him in half a year. 

If tragedy and comedy could coexist, this would be it. 

“How is he?” I asked Luke as soon as he got back. 

“He’s holding on,” Luke affirmed with confidence. What he said next lacked any of that. “He told me to tell you not to worry about him.” 

Something in me knew it was a lie. “Did he actually say that?”

His lack of an answer was one itself. 

“Did he say anything at all about me?”

“I tried telling him how much you wanted to see him, but he just brushed it off. I’m sorry, (y/n).” 

This became my routine for the months to follow. Every time someone would come back from the prison, I’d ask them if they talked about me, but the answer was always no. After a while, it had gotten to the point where I purposefully started leaving myself out of the loop. At least in that case, it was by my own volition that I was being excluded, not by a predicament being forced on me. 

Not by Spencer. 

“We’re not doing this right now,” Spencer declaration brought me back to the present, where I found him removing himself from both the conversation and the vehicle. When I heard the latch click to open, my hand reflexively flew to my auto-lock to prevent him from leaving. Naturally, he still managed to escape using his door’s button.

If I couldn’t stop him, then I could follow him. 

“Then when will we do this? Huh, Spencer? When? Because anytime I try to talk to you, you run away.” The mere fact that I was speed-walking after him was proof. While he casually strolled down the sidewalk paying me no mind, I tried to be clever and walk down the street so we’d be somewhat side to side. I was tired of staring at his back every time he walked away. I needed to see his face.

For his every stride, I had to take at least three steps. He was gliding through the world so effortlessly as I was trekking my uphill battle. It was quite fitting, though. Further exemplification that, between us, I was fighting harder to preserve the people we used to be, the relationship we used to have. Meanwhile, he couldn’t care less. A stone cold, inconvincible slab of steel. Just like he always was. 

As I began to speak, I had to also be conscious of the parked cars along the curb, being careful to weave in and out. 

“For months, you have blatantly ignored me. The entire time you were in prison, you denied my visits. And it’s not like it was a one time thing. I tried to visit you over 100 times while you were in jail! 100 times I got rejected. 100 times I got turned away. 100 times my heart shattered.” 

By now, I was speaking so loudly that I could see household lights within neighboring homes turning on. I hadn’t even realized how far we’d walked down the street and away from our car, but it was the last thing on my mind. 

“Then after you were released, it’s like I never even existed. I had to find out that you were out of there a week later than everyone else because they all assumed you came to me yourself to tell me the good news,” I laughed wryly at my own stupidity. “Do you know how hard it was for me?” 

“Do you know how hard it was for me?” 

It took me a second to register that he was actually engaging with me in this conversation now. But when I looked at his expression, I could see that something within him had snapped. A little piece of me was glad, though. Now I knew for sure that there was some effect I had on him. 

“Hard for you?”

“I know you came to visit me 100 times! Want to know how I know? Because I was there, too! I was there every time a guard came to ask if I wanted to see you. I was there every time I turned you away. And while you got to walk out of those doors every time I did, I was stuck in there, rotting in that cell, thinking about how badly I wanted to see you. How badly I wanted to touch ...” His voice faltered. “To touch you. But I had to protect you!” 

“You do realize in protecting me, you were hurting me in the process.” 

“Because you just don’t know when to leave well enough alone!” His hands tugged at the root of his unruly hair like evidence of the frustration that my stubbornness caused. “You’re such a pain in the ass because you can never cooperate! It’s gotta be your way or no one else’s! ‘Spencer, it has to be this way because I said so. Spencer, you have to let me see you because I said so. Spencer, you have to talk to me because I said so. Spencer, you have to ride this stupid roller coaster because I said so,’” His imitation of my nagging voice would’ve made me laugh before. Now, it was bringing me onto the verge of tears. “Since clearly no one’s told you this before - not everything is about you! You just want it to be because you’re a whiny, little brat! You’re so spoiled rotten that you can’t even see how far down it goes. If you did, you’d know that you’re rotten to the core and that nothing will ever satisfy you. Especially me.”

His words had done more than sear me. They pierced me. They ripped me. They destroyed me. When he called me Brat, I thought it was endearing. Now, looking back, I realize - no, that’s just how little he thought of me. 

As I came to the conclusion, I stopped dead in my tracks on the pavement. 

I was done chasing Spencer.

His face had fallen from its anger, indicating he was apologetic, but I was beyond accepting his sorry excuses anymore. I couldn’t stand to look at him so I looked behind me to find our car at least a football field away. I guess in many ways, I’d gone the whole nine yards. 

“This is what you wanted right?” I turned back to him momentarily. My voice scared me how calm it was because, inside, I was boiling with rage. “Well, here you go, Spence. Have all the fucking space you want.” 

It was usually me watching his back while he walked away, and now, he was watching mine. 

“(Y/n), wait!” 

And for the briefest second, it actually felt good to be the first one to leave. 

I was free. 

_ _ _

To my dismay and relief, when I walked into work the next morning, he wasn’t there. I would’ve looked for him with more than a cursory glance except I was stuck on looking at something strange in the bullpen that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. But as I walked further in, a blaring siren went off in my head. 

Spencer’s desk is completely empty. 

I instantly sorted through my purse for my phone to reach Prentiss when I noticed something more. 

I had been desperate to cling onto any notion that he still loved me, and there it was, just sitting on his desk. Proof that the man I loved was still in there somewhere.

The top three pictures from the carnival photo booth.

I laughed, as I always did, thinking about how much we had to exert ourselves to be positioned in a semi-adequate way. In the next wave, I felt profoundly empty. He had kept the pictures all these years, and now that I finally get to see them, he’s left me.

As I brought my hand to my face to clear the tears pooling at my lower lashes, I saw that my finger had an ink smear on the pad of it. There was nowhere else I could’ve obtained it except for if there was writing on the back of the photos. 

What I read when I turned it over was as follows. 

I want to be this guy for you again, (y/n). I just don’t know how. 

I just don’t know if I can.

No matter how much I’ve changed, one thing’s still the same.

I love you. 

I should’ve focused on the message, but all that I could focus on was that if I managed to smear the ink, that meant it was fresh, written just now. 

He was still here. 

I pocketed the photos and abandoned my purse, only carrying with me the phone that I forgot to use to dial Prentiss. After a moment’s indecision, I figured that taking the stairs would be faster than the elevator, and I bounded down the steps without hesitation. 

“Spencer!” I yelled into the parking structure when I reached the ground floor. The sound of me bursting through the door caught the attention of Anderson, who was getting out of his car. 

“I just saw him leave.” Anderson threw his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the exit. I knew, even in my state of mind, there was no feasible reality where I could reach him on foot. I had to call him. 

I pleaded to myself for him to pick up with every ring of my phone. 

“(Y/n),” He said like a statement instead of a question. Again, he’d anticipated I’d do this. He probably picked it up not even having to look at the caller ID but knowing it was me and no one else. 

“I don’t need you to be the guy you were before, Spencer. I just need you to bend a little bit. I know we’re both stubborn people, but if we can just find a halfway point-”

“(Y/n), (y/n),” He was settling me and the sentences that were coming out of my mouth at 100 mph. 

“I’ll bend if you bend.” I promised. 

The static of the call filled my ears until his voice finally did.

“For everyone else, I bend ... for you, I break.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

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[slowpoke-fics]

Hidden Hunter

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Crowley x Reader

Summary: Crowley is your best friend, has been for years and taught you a lot of what you know. However, you aren't associated with the boys.

Warnings: mention of injury and stitches, slow burn, hint at death, I could be missing some, I am not perfect please read at your own risk

A/N: I loved this fic, I hope you guys do too! Oh! And a favor I ask of you. The more I write the more I worry about warnings. If you ever see anything I write not have a warning it should, please tell me.

You pulled into your motel, harshly parking your car and storming into your room. Muttering to yourself as you slid your shirt off, door barely slamming shut, "Stupid motherfuckers couldn't just listen. Couldn't just-" you let out a guttural scream, "I tried. I tried." You shook your head, unbuttoning your pants as you heard Crowley behind you, "Hello, Mouse." You slipped your pants off, turning to look at Crowley, not missing the way his eyes studied the curves of your body. "Hey, Crowley."

Crowley took in your ragged and bloody appearance. Dried blood scattered throughout your hair, on your arms, tiny nicks and cuts over your body with a nasty gash on your torso. Crowley's eyebrows raised and he spoke as you went into the bathroom turning on the shower, "I guess they didn't take the deal?" You poked your head out of the bathroom, glaring at him, "No, they didn't captain obvious." Crowley laughed, sitting on the bed as you took a quick shower.

You ran your fingers through your hair, trying to get the blood out without stretching too far so you didn't irritate the gash on your stomach. You stepped out of the shower, washing all of the grime off of you made you feel a little better. "I hate hunting," you muttered to Crowley as you walked out of the bathroom, hair draped over your neck and a towel wrapped tightly around you. "Would you please get me a pair of shorts, a tank top and a pair of underwear out of my bag?" Crowley smiled at you, already on his way to your bag, "Of course, love."

You stood there looking at Crowley as he ruffled through your bag. His suit clinging to all the right spots, curling around his biceps, tight around his thighs, unfortunately his ass covered by the length of his jacket, shoes nicely completing his look.

You'd met Crowley a few years back, when he was a lowly cross roads demon. You went to make a deal, planning to exchange your soul for the ability to track supernatural creatures so you could save them. Crowley took an interest in why you wanted to do such things. Realizing that you were a hunter that wanted to stop the deaths before they happen was important to you. Stop the needless death of humans and monsters alike.

You'd become close to him, allowing him to teach you the ways of the natural witch. After about a year you had learned enough that Crowley needed to come up with some other reason to stick around. So he started to offer his help with no strings attached as he took a liking to his little mouse. The hunter who only hunted those who hunt.

Crowley handed you the clothing, politely turning around before you dropped your towel. You slid your underwear on, groaning as you did so, causing Crowley too start to turn around. He stopped himself, asking permission first, "Let me help, yeah mouse?" You giggled, covering your boobs and huffing, "Yeah okay."

Crowley turned around, helping you step into the shorts and pulling them up, he handed you the towel to properly cover yourself on his way up. What a gentleman, you thought as he went over to your bag, digging out the emergency kit. "Lay, you need stitches," Crowley pointed to bed. You grumbled, he knew you didn't like stitches, "It's not even that bad, it's fine." Crowley glared at you, "Love, if you don't stitch that it's gonna take months to heal and likely get infected."

You laughed, laying down, "I could always just use a spell." Crowley shook his head, his playfulness with his best friend suddenly gone, "We've discussed that Y/n, it's not the kind of magic you want too mess around with." You put his hand on his arm, as he wet the rag he had with alcohol, in an attempt to comfort him, "I was just kidding, I know."

Crowley started cleaning the gash, making sure that you had gotten all the debris out. You hissed at him, you could see how curious he was, but you'd made a rule that he doesn't press hard unless it's bad. "So," you croaked out as he started stitching you, "what'd you do today?" Crowley smiled at you, secretly bashing you because if you'd just listen to him and find partners it wouldn't be like this.

"Well, I saw moose and squirrel-" You lifted your head, excited, "Sam and Dean?" He nodded, "Yes the royal pains in my ass. They were having trouble tracking some witch-" You giggled, "I could've helped them instead." Crowley tries to hide his genuine concern by joking, "Oh no doll, I don't think we'll be doing that." You furrowed your brows, "I still think we'd make a good team."

"Mouse, I don't ask for much," Crowley sighed, "if you want partners, I can find plenty of hunters that are not Winchesters." Crowley put gauze over your stitches, carefully pressing tape to hold them in place. You sat up, Crowley turning around to let you slip your tank top on, "Decent," he turned back around, "what is your problem? I never like other people enough to let them join me, but when I hear about someone you say no?"

Crowley sighed, "They're dangerous people, Y/n. I've told you I don't want you near them." You stared at him, "I just don't understand, you always tell me they're dangerous and I can't go near them but nothing else!" You stood up, starting to pace. "They're-huff-" Crowley looked away from you, closing his eyes tightly as they flashed with anger, "they'll do nothing but destroy you." With that Crowley was gone. You were used to your arguments ending like that, even your conversations. He would get called away and come back when he wasn't busy and that was fine, but you were going to look into the Winchesters while you had the chance.

You pulled out a map of the United States, channeling through your pendulum Crowley had hand made for you. You smiled, looking at the chain on one end a sharp pointed crystal rested, on the there a tiny little metal mouse, identifying it as yours, the only one on the planet like it. You took a deep breath, circling the crystal over the map focusing your energy on the image of the Winchester brothers. After a few minutes of scrying and finding nothing you decided to leave it for now, starting to pack up your things you began thinking about what was so bad about the Winchester brothers. Why did Crowley want you to stay away?

You didn't really know much about them aside from the little Crowley'd told you because you didn't really associate with other hunters. At the end of the day, you hated most of them. Hunters in general were crass, and you hated that. You are a ray of sunshine trying to preserve life and most hunters see something not human and kill it. That didn't sit right with you.

You thought about the things you did know about the brothers. They had been in this life their whole life. Had lost both parents, almost ended the world a couples times, saved it just as much if not more. Only really had each other, but Crowley had mentioned an angel on their shoulder-Castiel I believe? What did you even know about him?

"I don't believe I know you?" Your entire body went cold, turning as fast as you can to aim a gun in between his eyes. "That will do little damage to me," he spoke flatly. "I beg to differ, these here special made bullets to put your ass in back in hell, so tell me? What're you doing here?" The man is staring at you, confusion in his brows, arms by the edges of his trench coat, pants and shirt tidy, but not perfect, "I am Castiel, an angel of the lord. You called to me." Before you could even think of a response, Crowley was standing next to you. Eyes holding fear, not ager, he speaks lowly, a whisper under his breath.

"What have you done little mouse?"

You lowered your gun, not sure if it was because it wouldn't do damage or because you felt safe with Crowley there. "I didn't call to anybody," you stare at Castiel, eyes boring into his as he speaks. "I beg to differ, I felt you, heard you, you seem to also need dealings with the Winchesters?" He looked to Crowley who he'd just seen not hours ago, "I am slightly concerned with Crowley being here." Crowley scoffed, "I haven't tried anything on the musketeers in years, I've been nothing but a friend and Y/n here was too curious for her own good." He growled out the end looking directly towards you, causing a rush guilt for going behind Crowleys back.

"I didn't mean to take you away from the Winchesters-" "You did not. I am a man of many abilities, helping people is one of them. At least allow me to heal you." You backed away as he stepped forward, "I am not going to hurt you." Crowley put his hand on your arm, trying to reassure you, "Well do it then Feathers, but uh-" Castiel healed you, you felt warmth, pain dissolving from your body, "can we keep her to ourselves?" Your eyes raised at Crowley, appalled by his gumption to hide you.

"Excuse me?" You jerked away from Crowley, Castiel raising his eyebrows at you. "Is that what you would like Y/n?" You looked at Crowley, his face a mix of anger and concern. "Can we? I promise I won't bother you." Castiel smiles at you, secretly reading you, "You wouldn't be a bother but I understand. I am happy to have healed you." Castiel was gone, Crowley already starting to pick your bags up. "We're gone now mouse."

He grabbed you, whisking you away. You looked around, taking in the room you were standing in. It was clearly an apartment, a nicer than you'd ever known anyone to have. You looked around, a sleek kitchen area, the bathroom door opened from the living room, the couch took up most of the living room, a nice coffee table in front of it but pressed to the wall.

"Crowley where are we?" He was glaring at you, a sour look on his face, "A safe house, I hoped we'd never have to use it." You shook your head, "Okay, but where? What about my car?" He shuffled on his feet, "In a few days when I know Castiel didn't spill the beans about you I will take you back to it." Crowley chuckled a little, but not answering as he reached out your bags for you to take. You huffed, taking your bags from him, and then he disappeared.

You walked over to the refrigerator, to your surprise it was stocked. Demons don't need to eat, you thought to yourself, a little confused and trying to figure out where you were, you moved to the window. You looked out and you couldn't have been but three stories up, but no markers as to your city or state. The bathroom was also stocked shampoo, conditioner, soap, toilet paper, toothbrush and toothpaste?

Crowley reappeared, holding the rest of your things and your gun. You took it from him, anger over your features. "Crowley, are we in someone's apartment right now? You know how I feel about how you taking over peoples lives!" Crowley scoffed at you, "You know I respect you too much to violate your beliefs like that!" You rolled your eyes, tucking your gun behind your waistband, "Then who's apartment is this?"

Crowley made his was over to the cabinet, pulling out a bottle of liquor he conveniently knew where to find, "Technically yours. Like I said it's a safe house." You tapped the counter, letting him know you wanted a glass as you sat down, "Gonna have to do better than that." He poured your glass first, shrugging he started, "I pay for it, it's under a fake name, it's warded so you can't be found, do we need to get into logistics?" You downed your glass, picking up the bottle and filling up again, "You brought me here after I met Castiel, that's not exactly safe house worthy." Crowley shook his head, sipping on his own glass, "Yes it is cricket, yet it is." Your blood started to boil, you stood from your chair, seething with anger, you spit, "Crowley, if you don't stop acting like-"

"Like what? Like someone who wants to keep you alive?" You flinched at Crowleys words, waiting for him to continue, "Everyone that they're around dies, Y/n, dies. Hunter funeral, pile of ash, dies. Everyone but them; they will destroy you." You scoffed, "I'm pretty good at keeping myself alive thank you." He raises his eyebrows, smirking a bit, "Do you forget how we met mouse?" Your eyes connected with his, glaring, still seething with anger, "I was desperate not dead, there's a difference. Crowley, they can't be doing more damage than me hunting on my own. Maybe I could be a voice of reason-" Crowley slammed his glass down, grabbing the counter with both hands, "No! I don't know why you even want to know them!"

You studied Crowley, jealousy now seeping from him. Then it clicked. It clicked that you two were a bunch of shy kids. Bouncing around each other like you were fifteen for years now. Each thinking the other was uninterested, each thinking that you didn't deserve one another. Crowley rightfully so for a while, the things he did outside of you could be classified as horrendous, but your ray of sunshine had spread to him. Bringing out all of the good parts that once was Fergus Roderick MacLeod, reminding him of who he could be. You reminded him how to love, how to hold someone higher than yourself. Reminded him of what it's like to protect someone other than yourself, to need to.

"Crowley," you walked around the table and placed your hand on his, "please just tell me what's going on." Crowley didn't hesitate, he turned to you pressing his lips into yours. It took you a second to realize what was happening, and then you melted. You moved your arms around his neck, pulling him deeper into the kiss, his stubble tickling you. Crowley tangled his fingers in your hair, taking a deep breath as he readjusted to meet your lips, tongue skirting your bottom lip before nibbling on it. You gasped at the action, the sound taking Crowley by surprise as he continued to glide across your lips, not missing the warm blush on your face.

Crowley was first to pull away, sliding his hand out of your hair and tucking it behind your ear, resting his hand there, he whispered, "I can't lose you." You planted a chaste kiss on his lips, smiling at him reassuringly, "You won't." He softened a little bit, sighing heavily before returning his lips to yours. Soft and gentle, savoring the moment as he tugged you closer to him with his arm around your waist. You pulled just an inch away, Crowleys eyes opening and making contact with yours, "Does this mean I get to meet the Winchesters?" Crowley growled at you, quickly lifting you by your thighs causing your to wrap your legs around him, "Absolutely not."

[quietlyimplode]

Grief for Natasha has been hard to deal with, and honestly after the movie I wasn’t sure if I wanted to write again, or if all the stories had been told. I have been wallowing and honestly still will be for a while.

I love the movie. I love the decisions made and the story. There are so many decisions in there that you can see are deliberate and are so powerful; it makes me love Natasha more. But I am so, so sad.

For those that are also sitting in grief. I see you, I get it. You’re not alone.

The following fic is for @redroom-romanoff who requested this take on a cut scene from Civil War which morphed into this. You rock. Honestly. Thank you.

@natasha-romanoff-deserved-better just. Thank you. I don’t think there are enough words. This touches on a few things we’ve chatted about too.

Warnings for Red Room discussion, children killing children and general angst. Nothing graphic. This takes place in the car scene. General spoilers for Black Widow Movie but nothing big.

.

“Do you think..” Yelena starts.

And then stops.

She’s not usually one for what if’s but being in the car with Natasha has made her nostalgic.

She looks across, and sighs.

Natasha doesn’t want to be talking.

She’s made that clear.

They drive on, and miles pass. Yelena feels fatigue wash over her as she adjusts her position.

She’s caught in a memory of Natasha teaching her how to do a handstand against a wall, when she catches Natasha looking at her.

“What?” She says, embarrassed to be caught so unaware. So unprotected.

“What?” Natasha smiles, mocking her. She rolls her eyes and passes her some water.

Yelena takes a long drink and pauses.

“When they separated us. You gave me the pictures. I kept them safe. It was a lifeline.” She starts. “Did you know?”

Natasha can’t hide the anguish on her face and she doggedly stares at the dark road.

“Did you know it would help?” Yelena presses.

Quietness falls over the car and she waits for a response.

The reply is a whisper. “No.” Natasha clears her throat, before continuing, her grip on the steering wheel tightens. “I just needed you to know it wasn’t a choice. It wasn’t my choice.”

Her voice breaks.

“I knew what they were sending us to..”

Yelena can’t take the emotion she’s now stirred up and stares ahead counting numbers in her head as she lets Natasha’s words pass over her.

“I wanted you to know that it didn’t have to be like that, that home can be anything we make up. Even if it’s two orphan girls and a fake mother and father. We can find our own family.” Natasha pushes her head back into the head rest and bites down on her lip hard.

Yelena copies her body positioning, the echo of her words floating in her head.

Natasha isn’t wrong, but the concept is. Found family, friends, acquaintances in the Red Room, was frowned upon; punished. Except one time. One period of time.

She focuses on the road.

“What’s the worst thing they made you do?”

She probes.

Natasha looks at her harshly, eyebrows furrowed, and Yelena holds her gaze. Wants to know if it’s comparative to hers; she’s also curious to know if the Red Room is less inventive about training and if they saw torture and killing as a rite of passage. Kill those you love. Kill all the parts of yourself that you love. If you can’t do that, you’re not worthy to survive. Pain will only make you stronger.

“I’ll go first,��� she offers, picking at her fingers.

Natasha turns her attention back to the road and Yelena puts her feet up on the dash.

“They split us into teams of 8. Made us work together, become friends, family.” She pauses as faces flash in her memory, the garroting strong she drew across Irina’s neck, the knife into Briselle’s gut as she twisted it.

Natasha’s voice cracks as she continues the story.

“After months of working together, sleeping together, eating together, protecting each other from the other teams, they dropped us in the tundra in Yamal. No food. No water. They said walk home. They said survive. We all had one thing the other needed…”

Natasha stops, swallows down, the mask that she’s perfected so well conceals pain, Yelena is sure, because her face hardens.

“Did you kill them all too?” She says bluntly.

Natasha nods. “I killed them all too,” she says slowly.

Yelena presses.

“Do you think it was wrong?”

Natasha shrugs. “It’s survival.”

The car continues on and they’re both lost in memories, “It’s not the worse thing that happened to me. I’m not even sure if it’s the worst thing I did.” Natasha offers.

Yelena nods. “Me either.” She pauses, “but it’s the one that stands out as the first time I betrayed myself. My own morals..”

“I don’t remember half the things I did in their name.” Natasha’s confession is quiet almost to herself like she’s admitting it out loud.

Yelena shakes her head in agreement. “Nope.” She pops the P and rummages in her pocket for the candy bar she left in there.

“It did serve the lesson though, didn’t it?” Yelena hands the rest over to Natasha, who refuses with a shake of her head.

“We can only trust ourselves?” It’s the rule Natasha feels like she’s lived her life by. Even now. “Yeah I guess it did.” She concedes with a huff.

Natasha turns her attention back to the road, grip now loosened but expression still hard.

“We’re doing this, aren’t we?”

There’s a look of confusion on Yelena’s face.

“We are doing something.” Yelena snorts a laugh. “Always cleaning up your mess.”

“My mess?” Natasha is indignant, and for the first time her mask cracks.

Yelena smiles and baits her. “If you’d done it right the first time…” she leaves the the thought hanging.

“I thought he was dead.” Natasha’s voice is clear and pissed.

It doesn’t override the crux of the matter. “You should have checked.” Yelena tells her. It’s not unkind. It’s the truth.

“The building collapsed. I don’t know how he survived.” Natasha shakes her head as if trying to get the memories to fly out.

Yelena goads her further. “Maybe you should have tried harder and gone back to check instead of holing up in a vent with your Archer.”

“He’s not my archer.” Natasha’s whole body softens as she says it.

“Oh yeah?” Yelena says unconvinced.

“It’s complicated.” Natasha seems far away as she mutters the words and can’t help but smile as Yelena rolls her eyes.

“I’m sure.” She says sarcastically. “He give you that?” She points at Natasha’s necklace.

“Yeah.” Natasha nods.

“Not going to elaborate on that?” Yelena opens a bag of chips she’d grabbed from Natasha’s bag. Eying her, Yelena offers them.

“It’s a good memory amongst the bad.” Natasha says, taking one.

“Oh yeah, that clears things up.” Yelena moves around, and tucks her legs under herself.

Natasha looks over to her and grins. “How about, we survive this, and I’ll tell you that story.”

Fatigue seems to wash over both of them, the emotionally charged conversation exhausting them both.

“Ok.” Yelena yawns. “Are we there yet?”

Natasha rolls her eyes. “We’re getting there.”

.

All my fic.