#anyway this chapter is helping the adam development

[dee-morris]

An Overdue Rant and a Christmas Fic

I wrote this Hallmark AU last December. It was supposed to be a jokey little one-shot, but man it ate my brain. My average daily word count is 500-1k words a day, and I think I was doing 2k to 5k a day until it was done. I couldn't fuckin stop, and it was glorious.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43616245/chapters/109670092

This is very important to me, because I came to fanfic like a dying traveler comes to an oasis. After the pandemic I became deeply depressed and I developed chronic writer's block. Marketing was an uphill slog, and not being able to go out and socialize at events made it unbearable. When I did go out, the anxiety I felt about COVID made it not fun. I wasn't sure if I was ever going to write again.

Writing fanfiction was a welcome reprieve from all that: no deadlines! No SEO! No depressingly tiny royalty statements! Positive reinforcement with no dollar signs attached! So it was nice, it was fun, but I didn't really get my groove back until I wrote HallMark. That wasn't just fun. That was drive. That was passion. And it was glorious.

After it was done and posted, I couldn't forget about it. I had to know what it was about that story that grabbed me by the brain cells like that. So I went back and read it again, and I read the comments (thank you all kind people you're the best), and I realized that it was about Aziraphale and Crowley, but it was really about my feelings towards how children are raised.

*I'm not going to completely spoil the fic here, but feel free to go read it before we get further bc I'm about to discuss some thematic elements.*

Crowley is raising the Antichrist to be the destroyer of worlds on the surface, but underneath it he cares about the world, and he cares about Adam too. And that is the side of him that Adam responds to, and why he turns out the way he does. And that's what parents don't understand about children. They are only kind of listening to your words. What they respond to, and what nurtures them, is your behavior towards them and towards the world you're raising them in. If you tell your kid that Jesus loves everyone and we should help the poor, but you vote for people who will cut welfare bc you think you'll get a tax break and a new boat, your kid sees you. If you tell your kid that it's a sin to judge others but you glare at a tall woman going into the ladies room bc you think she might be trans, your kid sees you. They might grow up to be an asshole or they might grow up to think that you're one, but either way you lose.

And if you tell your kid that his destiny is to destroy the world and that living things are fit only to be ground under his heels, but you make him sandwiches and worry about him when he's out of your sight and buy him stupid Christmas crap because it makes him happy, your kid might not turn out as evil as you thought.

(don't actually tell your kid he's the Antichrist, btw, this fic is hyperbole for symbolic thematic purposes and not a parenting guide)

Anyway, my point is if you love your kid and treat him right, if you treat other people right, and give him a stable home and maybe a dog if you can afford it, he'll probably turn out pretty much okay. The rest is just flavor.

Parents stress too much about things that don't matter, but it's not our fault. You have to run the gauntlet a couple of times before you can filter out stuff that matters from stuff that doesn't, because the books and guides and parenting classes will just try to scare you about everything. Let me assure you that your baby does not give two shits if you feed with breast or bottle. But your child will remember whether you were happy, and whether you took pleasure in their presence in your life.

So what sucked me in about this fic was the reversal of what I've seen in the real world. My brain conjured a fantasy of someone who's a good parent despite themselves, instead of a bad parent with a church habit and a fat bank account. Of course I had to bring that fantasy into the world. It's how things become real.

#fanfiction writer #fanfiction #good omens #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable parents #parenting #children #ao3

[crmsnmth]

September Sky Chapter Five, Part 4

I let Shaun leave first, after he got caught up on the dishes. There was maybe a rack or two still, but one of us could run it. Adam finished cleaning up his spot and he was next to go. Justin and I were usually the last two of the kitchen, usually him before me, and I'd find him sitting outside at the bar, oblivious to Nugget's flirty eyes.

We finished cleaning and wiping everything just after ten thirty. I had some paper work to fill out but that would take me five minutes. I'd be done by the time my friends showed up. And I'd have time to change.

"I'm punching out then," Justin said, tossing his apron and rags into the hamper. They'd be clean by morning. Not long after, I added my own to the pile of sauce-covered aprons and black greasy rags.

"Alright, have a good one," I said, waving him off, distracted. I hated paperwork but it's part of the job, so it needs to be done. I was almost finished and didn't want to lose my train of thought.

I finished up, filed it, and grabbed my backpack, and headed into the employee bathroom. I quickly changed into my Goth Rock uniform; black pants, a torn up and safety pinned Sisters of Mercy T-shirt, and fishnet sleeves on my arms. My nails were already painted black (which is usually a no no in the kitchen but I said fuck it. I'm wearing gloves anyway). And finally, I threw on some very basic black eyeliner and red and black eye-shadow. I looked like the year 2005's entire mall goth subculture personified. I threw my work clothes into my bag, threw it over my shoulder and headed out to the bar.

Justin was sitting at the far end, and I nodded at him. Amber was basically fawning over him She caught me out of the corner of her eye and started over, stopping to grab a High Life from the beer cooler. I was pretty predictable, I guess.

"Busy night," she stated, sitting the cold beer in front of me.

"Yeah, it was a wild one."

"What's with the Hot Topic special?"

"Going to Club Specter with some friends," I laughed and took a large drink from the glass bottle.

"You? You're going to a club?" She said, mirroring Addison's reaction. Which only caused me to laugh even more.

"Yeah, I guess I am," I said, biting at my lower lip.

"I'm assuming with them," Amber pointed to two people walking into the bar, dressed in all black and wearing heavy makeup. They me sitting at the bar and waved, making a beeline for my little quiet corner.

"Hey man, looking snazzy," Conner said as he sat down next to me.

"What's up, n*****?" Kayla said. She only called me that because she knew I absolutely hated it. It was her entire mission in life to make me as uncomfortable as she can possibly make me. Isn't that a thing friends do?

"Thanks. How come you guys made the trip out tonight?" I asked. Usually, these two weren't so impulsive and made out plans.

"Celebrating. Six months clean from down today," Conner said proudly. There was a very scary time period where Conner developed a serious love affair with heroin. He was practically dead by the end of it, and only got healthy due a bunch of us got together and basically forced him to get clean. I was there, but I said nothing. I didn't have anything to say. I couldn't understand it, and that meant I didn't know anything about it. As much as I wanted Conner to get better, I didn't know his reasoning for wanting to die so badly. And maybe it was a good reason. Everyone makes their own choices.

"Oh, hell yeah, dude. Congratulations. Keep this shit up. I'm proud of you." Kayla and him had started dating soon after he got clean. And she was perfect for him. They both were strange little enigmas, dressing like hippies, but turning around and listening to death metal. Ninety percent of the time, they were stoned. The weed apparently helped Conner stay away from the other stuff.

#fiction #artists on tumblr #writing #my writing #spilled words #writers on tumblr #poets and writers #writeblr #creative writing #writerscommunity #writerscorner #writer #lierature #cynical #cynic #free verse #free form #Stories #autobiographical fiction #art #literure #howispentmysummervacation #september sky

[possiblylando]

Chainsaw Man Chapter 134 Analysis

Woah hey bit later than usual with this one. Had a moment there when I began to grow disillusioned with the current chapters direction. Watched some Baki (2001) and a giant ape taught me the beauty in all things. Anyway, Chainsaw Man. Chainsaw Man will die before the end of Part 2. The Manga has to end eventually. Fujimoto doesn't seem like the kind of author who can leave a story off on "And so the adventure continues". They've already rolled out a replacement Chainsaw Man. If the original died then there's always a Chainfraud Man to replace him.

This chapter felt like it was backpedaling. These last few chapters have all felt that way. Defusing the tension of the previous chapter or even the current chapter immediately. I can understand the reason behind it now, But I still don't like it.

These chapters are here to mirror Denji himself instead of the narrative. We only got to see the peaks of his development without the blank middle. Like I said, I get cutting out the sections where "Nothing interesting happens" but that also defuses alot of tension. I would've much rather we had gotten an Asa Chapter or Two after 132's ending before we got to see what happened with Denji and Nayuta. It feels like it was just written for the weekly audience instead of for the quality of the story as a whole. Reading these chapters back to back it's just. 132. Denji & Nayuta are captured; Oh this is real bad what are they gonna do?? 133. Oh- They let Denji out. Oh wow okay thats a rough ultimatum- Nevermind. 134. Okay he's thought about it more. Because clearly time has passed between each of these chapters. But we don't get any of that time to pondering on what could've happened. It feels rushed is what I'm trying to convey. Idk maybe I'm supposed to feel discontent with what's going on to mirror Denji's feelings. If that's intentional then yeah I guess it's doing it's wrong. This entire chapter is Denji trying to rationalize his decision to himself. He clearly wants both. He knows it, Nayuta knows it, Yoshida knows it.

I can't help but wonder how Denji would be acting if he hadn't lost Aki and Power. He's acting the way he is now because he doesn't want to experience what he did again. He doesn't want to be dragged back down to hell.

I'll get a bit out here for a second. But I think the TV scrolling's message is intentional and important.

Obviously the nouns here aren't exact. Grandpa and Golf aren't the important things here. Keep in mind this is pretty out there and I don't think this is like- Be all end all. So I'm gonna show you basically what I'm seeing here. Also Grammar aside;

I don't know how intentional it is but it mirrors what happened in 133 when you look at it from this angle.

This whole scene is kind of upsetting looking back on it. In Denji's Mind this is his out. He can have two options right now. He isn't turning into Chainsaw Man to do this but he's still Chainsaw Man. Meaning he won't be breaking the rules. Nayuta won't have to get hurt. It'll all be-

*This guy has a passing resemblance to Katana Man, If he was a High Schooler.

You can pin point the exact moment the light leaves his eyes.

The Church are clearly Religious Zealots. It's interesting that they're using Abrahamic Religion as a basis for their uh- Beliefs? Goal? I'm not sure. I wanna go into some of the deeper meaning of this. So obviously it's time to talk about Christianity. *Side Note: Was Jesus a real person in the CSM universe? Adam and Eve were created by God as pure beings. Adam was created first however God soon after used half of him to create Eve. They lived in Eden which was a perfect paradise. However Eve was tempted by the Devil into breaking the only rule set in place by god by eating the fruit of knowledge. Adam not wanting Eve to suffer alone did the same. That's the basic of it. I think it's safe to assume what they really want to do is turn the world back into Eden. A world without Evil. However they seem unaware of the utter impossibility of that. Especially without the actual Chainsaw Man. We as the Audience know that any devil consumed by the Chainsaw is forgotten by humanity, Thus they lose all power. But the thing is this ability's activation conditions are still questionable. Pochita ate War's Guts yet War continued to exist, He only took Nuclear Weapons. Denji ate Makima yet Nayuta exists as the current Control Devil. Maybe because he wasn't in his chainsaw man form? So how can they create a world without Devils? Is it simply an Ideal to strive for instead of an actual goal? As in they just kill all the devils and everything- Okay that's not going to happen. We've seen the pattern. They're going to start dating the Devils again. God damn it. It's sad to see the Church take away all the suffering Denji has been through and put it onto someone else. Imagine if Jesus was replaced by some random guy who claimed to be the true son of god. Jesus still existed and went through all that shit to forgive the sins of humanity, Yet everyone just accepted this new guy was the real deal and the one who saved them.

This last page is also real sad.

Denji doesn't deny that his guy is Chainsaw Man now. He doesn't say "He's not Chainsaw Man!", He says "I'm more Chainsaw Man than him!". He's accepted the fact he can no longer be Chainsaw Man. But he still craves that acceptance. He wants people to like him specifically, and for that to be taken away by a guy he's only met once. It's real rough. I know that this isn't where it'll end for Denji. But there's a part of me that Wishes it was. If he stopped here he would get to live that life he wanted at the start of the series. But that life isn't enough anymore. Stagnation leads to the risk of falling back down to where you were before. And Denji doesn't want to be dragged back down to hell.

#chainsaw man #csm #denji hayakawa #csm 134 #chainsaw man 134

[krystalwinterswrites]

See You Again (At The Ending)

[Summary from AO3: Five jumps too far into the future, ending up in a post-apocalyptic wasteland. God decides Klaus is a nuisance and kicks him out of the afterlife. These events are both years and seconds apart.]

[Short Description: Klaus survives the apocalypse AU, in which Five and Klaus spend years together through the apocalypse and the Commission, all while Five is trying to find the right equation to get back home and Klaus is trying to figure out why this time-traveling, space-jumping kid seems vaguely familiar.]

Part 4: See You Again

Beginning of Work | Previous Part

[Notes: This chapter has already been published on AO3. It also will make zero sense without context from original chapters.]

Interlude VIII: I Heard A Rumour

“‘Five?’” Luther repeats, questioning.

Klaus looks to the kid, to Ben, to Allison. He has years’ worth of questions, years’ worth of theories, years’ worth of pretending he knows who this kid, who clearly knows him, is. He’s been confused for decades over why this kid is so familiar. And now Allison recognizes him? Just like that?

But the rest of them are staring blankly, or with a mixture of confusion and concern, and something inside him snaps.

Five, she had called him. Like he was one of them.

And Klaus remembers.

He remembers the way the kid always acted like Klaus’ family was his family. He remembers the way the kid knew important facts, hidden facts, about their family that no one outside of it should have known. He remembers the way the kid had teleported, and traveled through time, and done everything to show that he was remarkable.

That he was one of them.

He remembers what Allison can do.

“Allison,” he growls, “you have a lot of explaining to do.”

~~~

At thirteen years old, Klaus is pulled away from his siblings and taken to a dark, secluded room.

“Number Four,” Reginald Hargreeves says, curt and commanding. “Contact Number Five.”

And Klaus tries. Klaus really, really tries.

He finds nothing.

~~~

Allison is thirteen, barely a month away from fourteen, when her father pulls her aside.

“Number Three.” His voice is sharp as ever, demanding attention.

Since she can’t think of anything else to do, she nods.

Oddly, something in her father’s gaze softens. “Allison,” he says, “I have a very important job for you.”

He had never called her the name Grace gave her before. Granted, it was a recent development, but she had thought his adamant refusal to use anyone’s name would never change.

She nods again, shoving her confusion aside. This is her chance to impress him. All of them had always tried to impress him.

When he’s done explaining, Reginald gives her a day to think it over. she resolves to ask Luther his opinion, but…

When she sees Luther, he looks broken, and he’s staring at old family photos with tears in his eyes.

When she passes Ben’s room, she hears small sniffles, quiet crying as opposed to Vanya’s sobs.

When she passes Diego’s room, she hears his knives whistling through the air, hitting his target harsh and quick.

When she passes Klaus’ room, he is missing.

And she has already made up her mind.

~~~

“Why are you so sad?” Luther asks later.

Allison smiles. “I don’t know,” she lies. “I guess I just feel like I’m missing something.”

“Funny,” Luther says. “Well, not funny, because it’s making you sad, but… I’ve been feeling the same way. Like something’s wrong, but I just can’t place it.”

Allison can’t help it; something in her breaks.

~~~

The pictures are missing so quickly.

Every article is taken down and destroyed in the span of a day.

She even helps paint the room.

It’s scary how easily people disappear.

~~~

Allison is sixteen when she tells her siblings not to cry about Ben. She doesn’t give a good explanation, just that he would want them to keep fighting, but they seem to take it anyway. They trust her, and they value her opinion. They clearly hear the urgency in her tone.

Klaus is the most skeptical, but it’s okay. She can hear him talking to Ben late into the night. He hasn’t lost anything; he still has his brother.

This time, Reginald does nothing.

~~~

As a sort of honour for Five’s memory, Allison searches through every book she can about quantum physics and time travel. Fiction, nonfiction, doesn’t matter. As long as it relates, she pulls it off of the shelves.

Some of her coworkers and friends ask what she’s reading, and seem impressed when she shows them.

Later, whenever Claire asks what she’s reading, she does her best to explain the concepts in simple terms.

It doesn’t do anything to send the grief away, but it helps ground her in her current life.

~~~

“I heard a rumour—“

~~~

Ben’s funeral is short, but most of them don’t cry. Vanya does—she’s always been more emotional than the rest of them—but other than her, the rest of them sit in mournful silence. Tears burn their eyes, but they do not escape.

Reginald looks Allison’s way, meets her gaze. His expression is grave, but—

Allison shakes her head. “No,” she mouths. “Not this time.” And he nods in agreement.

~~~

“—that Number Five never existed.”

~~~

They stop talking about him, suddenly. She was expecting it.

It doesn’t make the blow any softer.

For nights afterwards, she wonders whether she made the right decision. Years. But she can see how much happier they are to think they haven’t lost anything; she can see how much it hurts when Ben dies.

It doesn’t make the decision any easier. It doesn’t stop her from thinking about it. But it does make the guilt ebb away, little by little, with time.

~~~

“I heard a rumour… that Ben is our Number Five.”

“I heard a rumour… that Vanya is Number Six.”

~~~

Sometimes, people startle Allison when they call Ben by his new number.

Sometimes, albeit rarely, Reginald almost calls Ben “Number Six,” or Vanya “Number Seven.” Luther jokes that he has too many kids, or that he’s getting old, and Allison plays along with a laugh, though her heart aches.

Sometimes, Allison starts to recall a story, only to be interrupted and told it never happened.

“Oh,” she says, feigning confusion as she realizes Five was a part of it. “I must’ve dreamt it.”

~~~

“You must not speak of this to anyone. It will only cause them to grieve them more.”

“I understand, Father.”

She doesn’t.

~~~

It’s the anniversary of Five’s disappearance, and Allison locks herself in her room and cries. No one knows why.

She never tells them.

~~~

Hypocritical as she is for it, when Ben dies, Allison cries the hardest. She hides where no one can hear, sometimes in parts of the mansion she’s not even supposed to be in, and she cries over the death of her second brother.

When Pogo sees her, once, he shakes his head before leaving to give her privacy.

When Grace sees her, she offers a blanket and warm milk. She only smiles and walks away when Allison declines.

When Reginald sees her, he sits down next to her.

“I understand that you’re upset,” he says. “It is only reasonable to be so. But you mustn’t let it distract you from your duties.”

Allison nods. “Of course,” she agrees with a sniffle, because what else can she do? There is no disobeying her father.

“Nor can you allow it to distract your siblings from their duties.”

“I understand.”

~~~

She still, absolutely, does not understand anything. She doesn’t understand why her father asked her to make Five disappear to begin with. She doesn’t understand how it was so easy, how her power could change so much so quickly.

She doesn’t understand why she agreed to do it.

~~~

Allison wears her makeup as a mask. It’s a silly excuse, but she convinces herself not to cry because her eyeliner would run.

When Luther says she seems off, she only shakes her head.

“Ben’s dead,” she replies. “Everything is wrong.”

I’ve lost a second brother, she thinks.

~~~

At the end of Allison’s story, they all stand in silent shock. The room doesn’t know how to react.

By now, Allison’s voice is wavering. “I-I thought I was doing the right thing. That it was good, since you wouldn’t be sad anymore. I didn’t realize that I was just covering up Dad’s mistakes.

“You weren’t,” says Five, his tone far too calm in comparison to the storm behind his eyes. “You were covering up my biggest mistake, and you buried me with it. Good fucking job, Allison. It’s nice to know I’m so bad of a family screw-up that you had to pretend I never existed.”

“Five, it’s not like—”

It’s too late. Five has turned around, blinking away.

“Wait,” Diego says. “He’s really our sibling?”

Allison nods.

“Anything else you’re keeping from us?”

She shakes her head. “Klaus… already said the last one.” Her eyes flicker to Viktor, who is staring down at the ground.

“You… I can’t believe you’d hide something like this,” Viktor says. “He’s— he’s our brother, and you made us forget about him?”

“I—”

“Will we ever even remember?”

Allison takes a breath. “I… I can try to make you remember, but—” She pauses, taking a deep breath. “When I’ve rumoured someone for that long, it’s hard to reverse.”

“Viktor remembered,” Klaus says.

They all turn to Viktor, who is staring at Klaus in confusion.

“The other Viktor,” he clarifies. “He… I don’t think he remembered Five. If he did, he didn’t tell me. But he remembered his childhood. I was wondering if you could at least try… Well, they’re your powers.”

“I can’t— I can’t take it back.”

Klaus sighs. “Look, Allison. When I was a kid, I thought I was cursed to talk to ghosts. Then I realised I could interact with them and give them physical form. I can act as a medium for possession. I’m immortal, I can levitate, and can apparently make other things levitate, too. I don’t think it’s too farfetched to believe there’s more to your abilities than you think there is.”

“You can fly?” Diego asks.

“That’s what you got from that?” For a moment, Klaus seems annoyed. Then, he grins. “This is why you’re my favourite.”

“I suppose I can… practice?” Allison says. “I can try.”

Klaus nods. “Good start. Viktor and I are also practicing his sound manipulation.” He takes a deep breath. “We’ll… figure everything out.”

The uncertainty in his voice unsettles Allison. When he had first showed up, he seemed to have everything figured out, preposterous as it sounded. He had been the picture of confidence when he told them all that Viktor ended the world. That he knew how to prevent it.

Now, he looks like he’s questioning his abilities.

“Where’d Five go?” They all jump at the sound of someone else’s voice. They’re young, with curly dark hair, brown skin, curious eyes, and blood-covered hands gloves.

As Allison begins to ask who they are, Klaus whirls on them. “You knew the whole time?”

The person blinks. “Yes? Neither of you are good with secrets, good as you are at pretending you’re good at it.” By the time it takes Allison to process that sentence fully, the person has already strided past her, picked up several of the body parts, and walked right back out of the room.

“Who the hell was that?” Allison asks, more than a little alarmed.

“Oh,” Klaus says. “That’s Ariadne. They’re dealing with the evidence.”

Allison’s gaze sweeps past the entryway, taking in the entire mess for the first time. “What… happened?”

Diego points a knife at Klaus. “He conjured Ben.”

“He what?”

Klaus shrugs. “Just another thing I do. I said I could give ghosts physical form. Ben happens to be a ghost who’s been stuck with me for the past thirty-ish years.”

A moment passes. Klaus hisses at the air.

“So,” Diego says. “Do I get any new, flashy powers?”

Klaus shrugs. “We’ll see. For now— Allison, Viktor, training room. Ariadne and Diego will deal with the mess. Luther… could you find the kid?”

Luther makes a face. “Why me?”

“I don’t know. You figure it out.”

Ariadne pipes up, “He’s probably in his room.”

“What room?”

They shrug. “Attic, I think. To the left, or whatever.”

Diego mimics Luther’s baffled expression. “That’s—”

“—the one across from Ben’s,” Klaus finishes with the satisfaction of someone who’s been solving a life-long mystery. “Of course.” He pauses. “I think… I think Ben may be getting some of his memories back. And if he’s getting them back…”

“…the rest of us can, too,” Viktor says.

Klaus hops up from the couch. “We should start, then.”

Allison nods and willingly follows him.

Maybe, she can learn how to fix this. She can finally understand.

End of Interlude.

Link to AO3 | Link to Next Part (to be added)

#my writing #fanfiction #the umbrella academy #allison hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #five hargreeves #tw violence #tw death #tw grief #tw corpses

[mayhems-enstars-brainrot]

self introduction!!

what's good!! my name's mayhem, i use they/them pronouns and i'm an 18 year old college student majoring in japanese (playing ensemble stars actually does help me learn a little bit lol). i've been playing ensemble stars for a month or two so i'm only rank 43 right now :/ but holy hell i am obsessed with this game. i love rhythm games (even though i'm not very good at them) and the characters in this game are fantastic, i've been hyperfixated on it for like a month and my friends are sick of me lmao

as my bio says, i'm a shuP/valkyrieP; yes i love mika as well, but there's just something about shu that makes me adore him more than any other character in the game. maybe it's because he's weird and strange but also sweet at times? maybe it's the fact that he's a (technically successful) cringefail? i don't know. but ever since i saw ex-valkyrie's 2-episode arc in the anime he's had me in a chokehold!! his character development!!! the artistry!!!!! UNMATCHED!!!!!!!

anyway... other characters i love and why!!

-wataru: he's silly :3 and i love his voice. fills me with serotonin every time i hear him go SuBarAsHii~ in the middle of a live. he is... the only member of fine i don't hate. eichi is a complex character but i personally do NOT like him (also i'm a shuP of course i hate him). tori is a brat. and yuzuru is barely worth mentioning. but i love how chaotic and goofy wataru is. truly the only good member of fine

-mayoi: if you couldn't tell, i love men that are weird and strange!!! love them dearly. also i kind of relate to him, at least with him having intrusive thoughts (that shit fucked me over in middle school lol). i love his hair and i love his sharp teeth and i love how he actually cares so much that it's the only thing that can override his anxiety. lastly, if i had vents and could go from place to place without being noticed you bet your ass i would every time.

-rinne: now i haven't finished chapter 5 of part 1 so i'm not sure how his story ends. however, i can say i've thoroughly enjoyed seeing him cause problems on purpose. i love when i'm in a live and he goes KYAHAHA and i'm like oh right rinne is here. his character development in the first half of chapter 5 alone has been amazing so i'm excited to see where his story goes.

-rei: as someone who very much identifies with the whole goth/emo/alt aesthetic, you KNOW undead is among my favorite units. rei is an amazing character in the anime (i mean, he helps so much, trickstar literally wouldn't have been able to do any of the shit they did without him) AND he made eichi faint by whispering some hard truths in his ear. based.

-leo: sadly i haven't seen that much of him, both in-game and in-anime, but i adore his energy. i'm also a songwriter, so i get the artistic struggle and whatever bullshit. honestly i think he's really cute and i'm excited to keep watching the anime because i'm on episode 13 and they showed him in episode 12 so surely that means he'll be in the show soon right guys? right?

~

anyway!! now i'm gonna move on to my favorite songs (and you'll probably be able to tell what my favorite units are based on them lol)

2wink: play tag, welcome to 2wink acrobatics

AKATSUKI: akatsuki iroha song, festival night picture scroll, strike -blade of resolve-, wild blooming flowers, pale red promise, perfectly-imperfect

ALKALOID: believe 4 leaves, kiss of life, hysteric humanoid, living on the edge, artistic partisan

Crazy:B: ariadne at the fingertips, crazy roulette, honeycomb summer, risky venus, helter-spider (idc that it's for halloween it bangs)

Double Face: =EYE=, stippling (these are the only double face songs i know)

Eden: the genesis, dance in the apocalypse, majestic magic, sunlit smile (eve), the beast of the end (adam)

Fine: never-ending symphony, neo sanctuary, holy angel's carol, crossing heart, the tempest night (wataru ily. 「愛」!!)

Knights: grateful allegiance, little romance, mystic fragrance, voice of sword

Ra*bits: joyful box, fallin' love=it's wonderland (best ra*bits song by far), love ra*bits party, milky starry charm

Ryuseitai: comet halation, unrivaled meteor ranger, ryusei hanabi

Switch: majestic magic, fragments of imagination, emerald planet

Trickstar: only your stars, rebellion star, crossing heart

UNDEAD: gate of the abyss, immoral world, melody in the dark, nightless world, valentine's eve nightmare, destruction road

Valkyrie: acanthe, kohaku to ruri no rondo, gaisenka, cloth waltz (UNDERRATED ASF), memoire antique, raisanka, enthralling theatre, tonight on the moonlit castle, sei shounen yuugi, sajou no roukaku, eternal weaving

also. bukubu new stars. koga ball <3

~

i think that's pretty much it? i guess i could confirm i'd consider my "favorite" units to be valkyrie (duh), undead, crazy:b, akatsuki, and alkaloid. i'm also aware that valkyrie just released a new album like a couple weeks ago so i surely will be checking that out and giving it a good listen over the next few days. i'm excited to meet more ensemble stars fans :3 if you wanna be mutuals just lmk i'm starved for people to ramble autistically to!!!!!!

#ensemble stars #self introduction

[waybrights]

me realising i wrote the wrong thing two chapters early so now i have to delete a day's worth of work and re-write it all

#im sick and tired of chapter 7 #there's no catradora content to be seen #they don't interact for this whole chapter and half of 8... #this is so HARD #anyway this chapter is helping the adam development #or thats what i want it to be whilst also still focusing on adora #grrr #im so ready for them to interact again i might write 8 in a week #so i can get to 9 before my spring break is over #ditm #hunger games au #deep in the meadow

[sooghostwriter]

Third Name

Member/Pairing: Do Kyung Soo x OC

Genre/Type: Mature, Romance, Royalty/ Dictatorship AU, Action, Time jumps. Multichaptered.

Word count: 5283 words.

Notes: The story takes place in a made-up country. We start at one point of the story and then go back in time the moment they met and how their relationship develops. Later, we will go back to the present and see how the story keeps moving. We get to read parts of Kyung Soo’s diary to locate us in time.

Summary: Anna has a plan for her own freedom. Prince Kyung Soo has one for the nation. She thinks she is meeting her enemy, he just wants to meet her.

When the revolution begins he will need her help to claim their freedom.

Chapter 6

December 27

The first time I felt normal in my life was my 16th birthday when Chanyeol and Sehun threw me into the lake after getting drunk on wine that we stole from the castle's kitchens. 

We were friends being stupid on a special day. After that, even having them around me, I was always the prince, either next to my father preparing to be the king, or with the Clan, preparing to overthrow the king. 

Now, I have them, and I have Anna, and I feel normal again. Because even when fulfilling my duties as… whatever I am, I go back to my moments with her and I feel normal. 

I always feel good, normal, and calm around her. Even when I'm a mess keeping my feelings and reactions under control. 

And it's not that I forget who I am. But I'm happy being who I am. 

She should have suspected that Chanyeol, Sehun, and Kyung Soo were rather strict teachers. 

She thought that it would be some friendly time, teaching basics, practicing with each other. But Sehun was adamant about the number of pull-ups she had to do to gain some arm strength. And Kyung Soo didn't smile a single time as he was correcting her posture. Chanyeol was more easygoing, although his eyes grew darker when they had a one on one and he went a bit too hard,  making her fall. 

"I don't like this, you guys are too harsh " She complained, rubbing her hands clean. 

"We train cadets, you thought we would be nice because you are a girl?" Chanyeol hurried her to get up. 

"No, but I didn't think you guys were going to take it too seriously" She called time off and sat on the cold marble floor of the training room. 

They gave her five minutes to rest and then made her do 50 squats before calling the day.  

But also, she should have suspected that they weren't going to make her work like that without a reward. 

After she was done cleaning herself, Kyung Soo handed her a glass bottle of juice and something wrapped on paper.  

"It's just orange juice and a sandwich, you can eat it in the dorms if you want, or you can eat it with us, we are done for the day anyway" Kyung Soo's nervousness was overly charming in her eyes. She saw his guards approach from behind with smug faces. 

"We aren't, we need to go and meet your parent’s guards for some instructions regarding the new year's party, Anna, stay with him, see you tomorrow" Kyung Soo was clearly caught off guard but she was hoping to spend some time with him. With no other reason than to talk to him about anything. 

She fell in debt with him. He had helped her several times, based on his believings, which made her wonder what else was there. Could be just a young man who disagreed with his father, or could be something else. Kyung Soo didn't appear like the kind of man that was just there, watching things happen. She felt like behind the peace he showed and shared, there was something boiling. It made her incredibly curious, that's why she wanted to spend time with him. Chanyeol and Sehun could also share glimpses of this with her, but she liked Kyung Soo and she wanted time just with him. Both guys took off and she was left with him, sandwiches in hand, ready to rest and eat. 

"What are you doing for new year's eve? " He asked her once they were done with food. 

"If you don't have anything planned for me, I'm going to stay at the dorms" She loved seeing the different expressions his face made to any of her weird answers. 

"Well… I do have something planned, I would like you to try again and brake into the library,  this time the celebrations will be held and the new parliament, no unrequited guests" 

"Where are you going to be? " There was a bit of disappointment when he answered her question.

"I will be there with the king and queen, I can get out early, but I can’t promise anything " She wasn't sure if she wanted him there with her. A part of her wanted him there as protection and support, but the other part wanted this just for herself. But she was now used to being torn about what she wanted and didn't want from him, so she just ignored her own question and focused on Kyung Soo's instructions. 

A thing that was already hard to do considering how attractive he looked in his training gear. 

December 31

I can't write about this day. 

Still, I don't think I'm ever going to forget it. 

Anna was again standing outside the door of the library. This time the castle was in complete silence, and the secret library wasn't the exception. 

She stood outside with her ear stuck to the door for almost ten minutes checking for any noise, but there was nothing. She took a deep breath, grabbed the doorknob, and pushed the door open. 

Her body began shaking with the impact of seeing the room in front of her. From between two bookshelves, she could see the dome-like room, with no natural light, just chandeliers illuminating the big room. She stepped out between the shelves, and could finally take in the greatness of the room. Although it looked more like a temple. At the center of the room there was a long marble table with a couple of desk lights and scattered around it there were a couple of couches and chairs.  And around the room, spreading like an accordion, big and tall bookshelves lined the walls. It was intimidating at first sight, but as she began to walk, slowly and carefully, she felt invited. Her hands ached to touch and violate the secrecy of that forbidden place. Kyung Soo explained to her that the library was poorly organized. He tried to keep some order, but it was in vane. 

"I'm going to leave some favorites at the table, but you are free to move around, take what you want, do what you want " He told her at the training room. So, remembering his words, and feeling quickly overwhelmed by the thousands of options, she walked to the center of the room, to the only pile of books in the center of the table. Her hands were shaking as she grabbed the first book. With tears in her eyes she read the title, a familiar one, a book that her father read once as a teenager to then tell the story to her. George Orwell's, Animal Farm. She knew the story, she had been listening to it since she was a little girl, and now, she was holding an original. She couldn't hold her tears anymore. This wasn't just reading books and having access to something that was unfairly stolen from the people. This was her, back to when she was ten years old, listening to an illegal radio station that they could only catch at a specific hill close to her house. It was her father introducing her to her future, to the only thing he wanted for her. 

Freedom.

The six books she was holding meant freedom and rebellion. And they burned in her hands, the emotions so loud and vivid that she had to sit down, holding the books to her chest, allowing herself to cry in silence. 

She didn't know for how long she clenched the books to her body, but she owed respect to the books so she cleaned her tears and began inspecting the titles that Kyung Soo had selected for her. 

Under Animal Farm she found an almost new copy of The Catcher in the Rye. She was familiar with the name, but couldn't remember the story. Then there was a title that was new to her,  Alice in Wonderland. The cover looked like a children's book, but as she opened the book and a random page and read it, she noticed that it was far from it. The other three books were also new for her. Although that was an understatement. The only books she knew were the ones approved by the Order and the ones she heard on the illegal radio station. So she was expecting complete ignorance regarding all these books. The next title was "Rights of men" followed by "The origin of the species" and "Oliver Twist". She read the titles out loud and caressed the name of the authors under them.  

She wanted to know why he chose those books. Why were they forbidden in the first place? Animal Farm was quite obvious, in fact, she knew that it was forbidden in several countries. By the synopsis, she could see why "Rights of Man" was despised by the Order too. The book defended the French revolutions and spoke about freedom and equality, all of them taboo subjects. The other three were a mystery. Why was the Order afraid of a book about a lost girl, the notes of a scientist, and the life of a child? 

She would have to ask Kyung Soo at some point, but for now, she was sure of which book she would steal. Knowing that she was alone,  she still looked around as she carefully put the copies of “Animal Farm” and “Rights of Man” inside her shoulder bag. She promised herself,  and the books,  that she would come back for them. 

Kyung Soo told her that she could stay at the library until the next morning. During the new year’s celebration, the Order lifted the curfew so people could spend the whole night outside, even the people from the castle. Sleeping there was tempting, but spending the night there reading sounded even better. She checked the shelves for about an hour and noticed how the library held not only reading books,  they also had picture books, children's books, graphic novels, even records. She wasn't only overwhelmed by the grandiosity of the place, the anger she felt was making her sob, trying her best to not cry. Holding knowledge, art, and entertainment hostage was clearly the best strategy to keep a country on its knees, obedient. Now her little project was gaining more and more strength inside her. She had to channel all that anger towards her plan of sharing these books with the citizens from the country. Her plan was still a bit immature, in organization but not sentiment. She had to make it bigger and meaner towards the crown, especially the Order. 

Anna checked her watch after spending what felt like an eternity checking graphic novels. The clock had just marked ten. She still had a lot of time, although her body and mind were already exhausted. She took  with her a contemporary art book and sat at one of the couches, ready to relax a little bit. 

She was about to finish the book when she heard a weird noise coming from under the room. Rattling noise, rather loud, and nothing else. She noticed that the only door she had seen was the one from the passage and she never really wondered where the real entrance was. So the noise could come from a room under the library, although it sounded too close. Then something caught her eye. A square on the floor began shaking, someone was clearly pushing it from under. She covered her mouth to quiet down the shout of fear. That was the main door, for sure, and someone was trying to open it. Someone was trying to get in, and if she was quick, she could have run away, but she was too terrified to move. Maybe she wouldn't be able to do it anyway. She just held to the book and hoped for the best. 

"Anna?" She heard, and then a knock. 

"Anna? It's me, it's Kyung Soo, I'm going to get in" She shouted his name as she jumped off the couch and kneeled next to the trap on the floor. With the last push, he was able to open the door and she saw him appear through the square on the floor. 

The previous fear didn't numb her enough to not appreciate the sight of his cute round face popping through the floor trap. That, of course, was followed by an immense relief that made her grab him by the shoulders and pull him inside the library. 

Kyung Soo broke into giggles as he got inside with clumsy legs, almost falling on top of her "Did I scare you?" 

"Kyung Soo, I thought it was my last day on earth!  What are you doing here?!  You were at the new year's party! " He dusted off his knees as he got up and offered a hand to help her. 

"I was, I made up some excuse and left early, everybody is over there, so don't worry about someone getting in here, I didn't want to invade your time here, but also I couldn't wait to see what did you find and hear you" Anna remained silent for a moment. His words carried a weight that left her speechless. Kyung Soo moved in his position slightly embarrassed, rubbing his hands together. 

"So? What did you find? " Anna's words were caught in her throat when he turned around, took a couple of steps away, and then faced her again.

She was fully aware of how beautiful and attractive he was. But Kyung Soo in his new year's eve outfit looked like a real majestic member of the crown. 

The soon-to-be king, member of the crown. 

It was a total black look, decorated with gold details on the sleeves, lapels, belt, the neck of the satin shirt and the black tie. The fabric of the suit shone elegantly as his shirt and shoes. She didn't know a lot about fashion or materials, but it was clearly luxurious. It also fit him perfectly. With more of a tight fit that was very flattering for his shape. His chest looked wider and his thighs… 

She noticed she was staring too much when the silence turned heavy and he began playing with the buttons of his jacket. 

"This… My mother has this tradition of coming out with an outfit for her, my father and I… and we have to wear it today for good luck… it's silly and ostentatious but it's the least I can do for her" She was slightly ashamed by her thoughts and actions. Thankfully Kyung Soo didn't pick on it, probably feeling embarrassed himself. 

"It's very beautiful, very shiny" She closed her eyes feeling embarrassed again. 

"Thank you… so, find something you like?" Anna felt a rush that made her go in a long and very detailed description of what she did and saw in the library. From the moment she entered the room until the moment he appeared. Kyung Soo sat comfortably on the couch next to her, taking off his jacket, in a way that caught her attention way too hard, and gave her his attention, a lovely smile on his face the entire time. Sometimes it was hard to focus, but she managed. 

He didn't have time to comment on anything she said because she had several questions he needed to answer. 

"Why did you leave those books there for me? I know about Animal Farm… "

"You know about Animal Farm?! How?!" Anna gave him the truth. She knew now she could trust him with that. So she shared her stories about her father and the illegal radio station. Kyung Soo couldn't believe his ears. He stared at her with his eyes and mouth wide open. He had several follow-up questions, so their following dialogue felt like an interrogation. 

Kyung Soo told her that he chose Alice in Wonderland because it was a story that he enjoyed a lot as a child and maybe she could relate with some passages. 

"I also chose Rights of men because… it sparked something on me, and I know we are alike in some way, so I'm sure you will feel that spark too, although I don't know if you need it"

"What about The Origin of the species? I was reading some pages and it's not like the other books you left for me" 

"The origin of the species it's a beautiful book about discovering and searching, I left it there because it's so beautiful, you can understand a lot about human behavior by watching animals"

"And Oliver Twist?" Kyung Soo stood up and grabbed said book from the pile, holding it with care. 

"I want you to have it, read it and do what you have to do with it… everybody feels unseen, ignored by the country, and not only here, everywhere, this man here, he showed them, he wrote about them and made their stories worth telling, he did what he could from his position, from his privilege" Kyung Soo lowered his head, silent for a moment. 

"You want to be like him? From your position and your privilege?" 

"I try" He whispered.

"Good enough" 

She was satisfied with his answers although the entire conversation felt chaotic. 

Kyung Soo offered a tour around the library, a new one where he could share some of the stories and secrets he knew, but she couldn't get up from the couch. She was exhausted. 

He offered to take her to the dorms and she accepted. It was close to midnight and even if she wanted to, she was too tired to stay there and keep reading. Kyung Soo helped her get her things and kept silent when she put inside her bag the books he had chosen. Although he didn't bother to hide his smile. 

Kyung Soo closed the two doors behind him and turned on the lights of the passage. With a hand gesture, he invited her to follow him, but she couldn't do so. 

"Wait!" She shouted, holding onto his sleeve "I don't want to go" She begged with desperation. 

Kyung Soo did what she needed the most and hugged her, bringing her head to his shoulder and holding her warmly between his arms. 

"I know Anna, I know" He whispered, resting his head on hers and nuzzling onto her hair. As soon as he did that, she felt how his body froze,  quickly taking a step back, making her almost fall onto the cold floor.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't…" She didn't let him finish, and pulled him back by the waist, resting her head on his shoulder again. 

"It's ok, I need this" It took him a second to hug her back. She was shivering, it wasn't cold nor scare, but it was just too much for one day. A dream, a fantasy becoming true and superior to her expectations. Everything felt unreal, even being between his arms, with his warm hands rubbing her back soothingly. She tried to focus only on that. Him taking care of  her, protecting her, always giving. Her shivering body began to calm down slowly, her breathing was now back to normal. 

"It's just that… I never imagined that I would get to see this before leaving" Kyung Soo's hands stopped moving against her back. 

"What do you mean leaving?" Anna took a deep breath and moved her head from his shoulder. She stared at him, pondering. But after everything he had done for her, he deserved to know, or more than that, she trusted him enough to share this with him.  

"Take me to your room, I don't want to sleep tonight, I don't want to forget this, I'm scared that if I go back where I belong all this is going to disappear, I will tell you everything there" Kyung Soo held onto her hand and released a soft sigh. 

"Yes, of course, let's go" 

Before they could talk about anything, Kyung Soo made sure to settle her on a couch next to one of the windows. Midnight was close, and he wanted to give her the best view of the fireworks. 

She looked better now, way calmer than before. He wasn't, but he was good at hiding it. Years of living a double life gave him that talent. Or at least that's what he thought. He brought two glasses of water and Anna's favorite chocolate. She ate one single piece of chocolate and drank the entire glass of water on one go. 

She took a couple of deep breaths, and stared at him nervously. 

"Listen to me, leave the questions for when I'm done " She ordered him  and stared at her hands as she searched for the right words. 

"When I was ten, my mom and dad told me that they chose to call me Anna because it's a common name that you can find anywhere… so in that way I could fit wherever I went… I told them that I couldn't go anywhere, and there they told me their plan for my escape… they didn't want me to grow old like them, I grew up hearing the word freedom as a mantra, moving forward only aiming for that...I wouldn't be the first nor the last defector, and it's not impossible, but coming from the countryside, I had to work my way into doing it and not dying trying" She took a deep breath to reorganize her thoughts. She felt as if she had said a lot and nothing at all, and looking and Kyung Soo terrified her, so she took another deep breath and went on, trying to be clearer. 

"Our plan was to get a scholarship here, get good grades and then be selected as a youth ambassador. You can guess the rest I guess, once outside the country, I only had to run away from the diplomatic group and hide for a while, my parents have been saving money since I was born so I could live there with some comfort, and start a new life" The weight of the realization that this was her first time sharing this story fell on her back and it ache her muscles. Kyung Soo stayed silent, he didn't know what to say. Two thoughts crossed his mind. 

He needed to help her. 

He was going to lose her. 

And two very opposite feelings filled his heart. Comradeship and selfishness. 

"Thank you for  trusting me enough to share that with me Anna, I promise you that it wasn't a  mistake, and I will try to help you" She chuckled, feeling extremely fond of him. 

"More than help, I need you to pretend like you never heard me " He didn't quite understood why she asked that, but still promised secrecy. Although he was going to share her secret with Chanyeol, Sehun and Minseok, just in case she needed help. 

"Thank you, and thank you for today. I can't really express how much it meant to me to be there, reading and watching. I feel so lucky and happy for this opportunity, so thank you Kyung Soo, your majesty." He snorted and rolled his eyes, moving closer to her.

"I told you I don't want you to call me that" Anna needed his full attention, so she turned around and faced him, sitting closer so now her leg was touching his. Kyung Soo did the same, so they were sitting face to face.

"But I have to, I know you have a complex relationship with that title, but I want you to know that you, your majesty, is the one that's helping me and giving me the freedom to do this… so not everything about your title is bad" He didn't answer, only looked down shaking his head. She didn't like that, she wanted to look at his big eyes all the time. So she held his cheek, her touch light as a feather, and made him look up. She whispered his name so he could meet her eyes, and once she felt she had his attention back she added.  

"Thank you so much Kyung Soo, your majesty" Her thumb caressed Kyung Soo's warm cheek, making him close his eyes with a shy smile on his lips. 

"Anna, you don't need to thank me, I would do anything for you" He opened his eyes with urgency. His answer gave away too much, and even if he acted as such, with total devotion for her, saying it was a different story. He had to know, to see in her face how she took his words. He was expecting discomfort, maybe horror, why not? But Anna was smiling, just smiling, as her right hand kept caressing his cheek. 

"You would do anything? " She whispered. He only nodded. 

"Why?" She knew this was more teasing that curiosity, but this was a new side of him that she wanted to see. And although she didn't have a goal, nor was she sure about what she was doing. She could always blame it on the rush of the night. Kyung Soo looked away, caught off guard by her question. She looked slightly amused, teasing him a little bit, that was clear. He liked seeing her like this, the mischievous Anna was her favorite. But she was laughing at him and he wasn't quite sure if he liked it or not. Getting over his obsession with being treated as a deity was a constant battle during his teenage years, and there were still some holdovers. 

Anna was still waiting for an answer and he was still fighting with the love he was feeling and with the annoyance that her teasing caused her. He felt exposed in front of her, and her hand on his cheek made him weak. She was so close he could smell  the scent of books from her clothing.  

"I don't know if I would do anything for you" She said as she held his face with both of her hands "But I'm sure I can put my life on your hands, I've done it a couple of times now, anything I do or say inside this castle puts me at risk of being labeled as traitor… but you have covered for me, you have taken me to forbidden places, you have put yourself and your family at risks by showing me the castle's passages, anyone could say that you lack some basic common sense, that you are not cautious to say the least" Kyung Soo almost shrieks when Anna rubbed his ears and pulled him closer to her "But why are you now so cautious around me? You can open up the castle for me but can answer a simple question"

"I'm better with actions than words " He answered with a raspy voice. 

"I know that… then don't use words… act" Kyung Soo was sure that Anna didn't know the power she had, the way his body was reacting to her. She didn't know how his ears were ringing, how his bloodstream felt inside his body, as if there was too much blood inside him, and it was boiling, making his cheeks, back and chest burning hot. His throat was dry and his hands were shaking. Never before has he felt like this. Insecure, yet desperate to move closer. 

"Can I?" His voice was still low and weak. 

"Are you being cautious? " She knew that she was coming off too strong. And she felt him shy and insecure between her hands, but she wanted him to act. She wasn't going to be the one taking the final step. He nodded again, his eyes half open and dark, focused on hers, although sometimes, for a split of a second they drifted to her lips. 

"Don’t be" She shivered with excitement when she felt his hands grabbing her arms. Not to push her away but to pull her closer. 

“I’m going to be like you” He whispered as he finally kissed her. Being like her could be a bad idea for both. She was pulling him in without thinking about the consequences. Without even wondering if she actually liked him or was just enchanted by his being. By his gestures and words. 

But the moment his lips touched hers, in a rather bold kiss that was the complete opposite of his current shy self, she stopped thinking about reasons. When he sighed into the kiss parting his lips, she ceased listening to her brain. 

His kiss was warm and too passionate for a couple of kids in their twenties. He moved his full, warm lips slowly as he pushed her hands away from him and held her by the back of her head, holding Anna in place. All the sounds of the world went silent as he nibbled her lower lip. As if pushing a very specific button in her, she hugged him by the waist and pulled herself to him. 

He sighed again as she pressed her chest against his, and Anna felt her heart jolt at the sound. 

They only stopped when both of them were out of breath. Kyung Soo stared at her, his breathing unstable and his heart beating frantically. Anna held her breath as she waited for him to speak. He looked nervous as he kept swallowing, although his hands kept caressing her and he licked his lips as he stared at hers. She was sure he could hear her heartbeat, or it was his? 

Only when he could recover himself was he able to speak. And his question was the last bit of self preservation he had left. 

“Are you doing this because I took you to the library?” He asked,  serious. Anna smiled at him and he felt her right hand caressing his back. 

“You mean to thank you?” She asked, as serious as him. 

“Yes” She thought about it for a little while, too long for his taste. 

“No, but it's one of the reasons why I like you” Kyung Soo kissed her again. Once and twice, realizing he would never have enough. Her hands were everywhere up his back and over his arms, touching the things she had only watched with furtive looks. His kiss turned hard and deeper. She was feeling a fervent urgency she had never known before. 

Their kiss felt as if time stopped, although she was quickly proved wrong as an explosion resounded in their ears. Because time kept moving, and it was midnight now, and the fireworks were marking the beginning of the new year. 

They giggled together as they took some distance from each other. But Kyung Soo didn’t let go of her hand, he couldn’t. They watched the show from his room, wishing a happy new year to each other. 

She fell asleep close to dawn. They were talking about books when he felt her head heavy on his shoulder. He couldn’t do that as easily. He wanted to enjoy that moment for a while. Her soft breathing on his neck and her fingers, warm and soft between his. The dark of the night and the complete silence made him fall and do what he was avoiding. Thinking about her intentions of leaving.

Although knowing that she was planning on leaving the country, and under those circumstances made him terribly distressed, it was probably better that way. The fact that they were going to upraise was real and it was going to happen, but no one could predict the outcome. They could succeed, or he could end up dead, or even worse, start a civil war. 

Anna had to be far away from all that and live a free life. 

He was going to make that happen.

TBC

#exowritersnet #exosnet #Kyungsoo #kyungsoo fic #exo fanfic #d.o #do kyungsoo

[psychovigilantewrites]

Chapter 14 - A Different Point of View

Summary:  Things that happened that you weren't aware of.

Word count: 9,163 words

A/N: Thank you for being so patient with me. I struggled with this chapter due to its nature. I had to further dive into Bruce and Dick's character that I wasn't too familiar with.2020 was a very tough year for me. I lost lots, learned lots. And I thought that the quarantine would mean I would write more. But I was wrong. Life hit me hard, and I stopped doing a lot of things I used to enjoy.Despite being virtually absent last year, you guys stuck by me anyway. Thank you. I love you all for that.Special thanks to my two beta readers. You know who you are. Here it goes.

(i recommend you guys read previous chapters to refresh coz I had to lol)

Ao3

Masterlist

The roles that people played were false- a mere necessity for their career or survival. Everyone was playing a role, whether it was of their own accord or not.

Bruce Wayne was a role- superficial, fake, yet vital to Gotham. Batman, on the other hand, was a completely different role, born out of exigence and a sense of justice.

Dick Grayson, however, genuinely enjoyed playing his role.

Nightwing felt right to him. Being a police officer felt right to him. And especially, if not ultimately, being an older brother.

He listened to the dial tone of his phone, which rung for a few seconds before you finally picked up.

“Hey,” Dick heard your voice, the usual chirp absent that day.

Dick frowned to himself. Bruce was right about you being troubled after all.

“Hey, sis!” he forced the concern out of his voice. “You busy?”

“Nah, I’m just going over some old case files. What’s up?”

Dick leaned back into his sofa. Aside from the traffic blaring outside, the silence in his apartment made it easier for him to concentrate on analysing your speech patterns.

“Can’t I call just to ask how you’re doing?” he teased, easing into the conversation.

Everyone had always told him how he was natural at talking.

“You already called last week…”

Dick smiled to himself. He could already picture your narrowed eyes regarding him with suspicion.

It was good that you were always on your feet, but it was becoming borderline unhealthy. It reminded him of Jason and how he was always so guarded .

He pushed the memory away.

“I can’t call you again?” he rolled his eyes at no one.

“Bruce put you up to this,” you accused.

That’s because he’s worried about you, kid.

If only you knew how much Bruce had changed for you. Dick was glad that you were being loved by Bruce, yet he still couldn't help but feel slightly bitter that he never got that kind of treatment from his father- not the same treatment he gave you.

But he would rather die than admit his selfish thoughts to anyone.

“Yeah,” he conceded, “He was worried about you after last night.”

“I’m fine, Dick,” you insisted.

How many times has he heard those very same words from Jason?

“Well, if you’re not, then you can talk to me,” he offered.

A short pause.

Your response would be what differentiated you from his late brother.

“Actually, yeah,” you admitted.

There it was. No matter how stupid he knew it was for even comparing the two of you, he found that he always had to remind himself not to.

“How did you deal with it? Did it affect you?”

Dick told you his own experience with gore and dead bodies, how he overcame it, how he coped. There was silence after, and he just somehow knew what you were going to ask next.

“How did, uh, he deal with it?”

Your voice came in a whisper, hesitation evidently clear.

Dick was expecting it, but his heart still sank. He knew how everyone acted when Jason was brought up in conversation- he was guilty of reacting as well. He also knew how you were smart enough to avoid that topic.

It had been years. They should all have moved on, because Dick knew that they were also hurting you.

“He came to me as well.” Dick recalled Jason’s hesitant voice over the phone, never directly saying what was wrong, just rambling about things other than what was really going on in his head.

“Then he gradually called less and less when he learned how to deal with it himself.”

The day Dick noticed it, he was happy for Jason, but a small part of him was saddened that his little brother no longer needed him.

“I’ll have to look for that cognitive therapy, then. Thank you for calling, Dick. Talking to you helped.”

Did it really? He noticed your voice had changed again. Maybe he shouldn’t have gone on about Jason like that.

“No problem, kid. Call me if you need to talk, okay?”

The familiar beep left him isolated with his thoughts, wondering if you would trail in Jason's footsteps.

When will the day come when you eventually stop calling altogether?

***

He felt indebted to his city- the city he loved. The city he hated. The city that robbed him of his childhood.

He felt indebted to his family- the family he would give up everything for, the family he couldn’t stop hurting.

And he was sorry. God, he was sorry.

Sorry for everything he’s said and done- or didn’t do. But he still couldn’t stop. Because he didn’t know how.

Yet, no matter how much he claimed to love his family, the problem with Bruce Wayne was that he always expected them to be the people he wanted them to be.

Never like himself, though. No, he would never want them to turn out like him.

“That’s an order. Stay-”

The silence that followed the click in his ear represented the first time you had ever disobeyed a direct order.

It was a little late on your side. Dick and Jason had begun to disobey him within their first six months in uniform. But you had always been obedient- which made it easier for Bruce to trust you in the field.

This first time came as an unexpected and unwelcome surprise. And Bruce was…

Disappointed.

He grit his teeth when he saw you on the ground with the warehouse burning behind you. If he had just been a few seconds late, would you be in the fire, too?

“I almost had him.”

Bruce didn’t miss the wince of pain as you got up to your feet.

He had heard those exact words before countless times from J- no.

Bruce shoved that thought away.

“He would have gotten away, and we wouldn’t have known who it was that did this,” you argued, brows drawn together in a frown, mouth downturned. Your respiratory rate was high, and you were having trouble breathing.

When did you grow so tall? So confident?

Bruce silently pointed to the active security camera he noticed the minute he arrived and saw your expression fall- only for a second.

“I still think I made the right decision,” you insisted.

“You disobeyed a direct order.” He hated his own voice. The way he spoke sounded too militant.

“I acted how I saw fit,” you continued, “You always say to follow my instincts-”

“Not if your instincts contradict my orders.” He regretted his words the moment they left his mouth. He thought he had changed. But no, Bruce was still a dictator.

“Wow. Just- wow.”

He could see the little twitches of annoyance within the disbelief on your face. He understood it completely.

You were walking away, clutching onto your side and weakly limping to your bike, adamant on not seeking his help.

He hated seeing you injured, in pain. It was his fault. If only he was faster, he could have stopped Red Hood from beating you up. If only he predicted it sooner, if only-

“I’ll be heading back now.”

He missed what you had said before that.

“Robin,” Bruce forced out, “Have Alfred check your injuries.”

He should have been there.

When you drove away, he lingered at the crime scene.

Bruce flipped a switch in his helmet, and his lense changed. Non-organic material lighted up bright white. He noticed a fractured piece of shrapnel lying on the ground, less than a centimeter long.

He picked it up and placed it into a test tube from his belt. Switching his view to normal, he saw that it was red, maybe made from fiberglass. He could only deduce that it was a piece of Red Hood’s helmet.

Despite Bruce’s frustrations at you for disobeying him, he felt a swell of pride. You probably landed a hit hard enough to crack the helmet just a little bit that you yourself probably didn’t even realise it.

He shone a UV light on it. A small portion of it glowed.

Bruce had always been numb when he played investigator so that he would remain impartial and objective. That was true justice.

But when he pocketed the evidence and sped to the Batmobile, he felt something he had never felt before.

Against all logic and rationality, he found himself dreading to uncover who the blood belonged to.

***

Bruce never drank his sorrows away. It was dangerous, too easy to develop an addiction to. He could have easily drowned in alcohol at any given chance, like when he thought of his parents, or when he thought-no, knew- he wasn’t enough.

But no, he only restricted his drinking for leisurely activities. He was disciplined. It was the reason why he was who he was.

However, in that moment, staring at the results of the DNA analysis after hours of anxious waiting, he wished he allowed himself a drink.

Not because he was distraught, not because he was in grief- but because he just didn’t know what to feel.

It wasn’t numbness. It was just plain confusion, an internal tornado of emotions whirling inside him all at once.

Footsteps.

He tapped on a button once, immediately closing the window of the test results displayed on the screen.

Composing himself, he clicked on another pending case to pretend he wasn’t on the verge of a breakdown. It’s just another role.

“Master Bruce.”

Why was he still up at this hour?

“Yes, Alfred,” he turned to meet the butler’s tired eyes- just as tired as his own.

Tired because of him.

Alfred was always up because of him. Because Bruce was a disease, constantly burdening others, dragging them down, keeping them up at night.

“I made some sandwiches. They’re light. Please do eat them,” he set the tray on the cluttered desk, simply pushing aside the numerous stacks of papers.

“Go to bed, Alfred,” he told him. Alfred was too old to be up at this hour. And whose fault is that?

“In due time,” he responded calmly, “What of the blood results, if I may ask?”

“Inconclusive,” Bruce lied.

“I see.”

Suspicion shrouded Alfred’s voice.

“How are her injuries?” Bruce asked, the pain finally creeping in, seeping into his bones.

“I commend you for asking about your daughter’s injuries after only four whole hours of staring at the screen, Master Bruce. You would definitely win father of the year.”

“I was occupied,” he sighed, “Please.”

“Her injuries are only superficial,” Alfred said, “Surface contusions at most.”

He still hurt her.

“Thank you, Alfred. Now go to bed.”

“It was only a little more than two decades ago when I was telling you the same,” he grumbled away.

Bruce made sure Alfred was gone before pulling up the results on the screen again, the glaring ‘MATCH’ sign staring angrily back at him as if it were shouting at Bruce, yelling in rage.

And Bruce understood completely. He had failed Jason Todd. He had betrayed him. And now he was back, vengeful, and full of resentment.

But that didn’t matter to Bruce.

Because despite it all, his son was alive.

In the end, that was all that mattered.

***

What did my son do to my daughter?

Bruce watched in horror as you lay unconscious on the hospital bed, hooked to the IV bag. He couldn’t stop staring at the bruises littering your neck.

Bruises that were far too small and evenly shaped to be the effect of a mere throttling.

He knew how the people close to him viewed him. He knew they thought he was strong, unforgiving, cold, emotionless. Especially when they put him side by side with Clark.

But he forced himself to be those things, because if he didn’t, he would have broken down years ago.

He was used to it. The pain. The darkness.

But this time, he felt like he was being crushed.

He felt like he was hanging on by a thread- no. A delicate strand of thin, brittle hair.

“It’s okay, doctor,” you had said, “I know what you’re going to ask me. No, my genitalia does not hurt. He didn’t do anything to me.”

He felt a wave of relief crash over him.

Jason wasn’t that far gone, then.

But as Bruce looked at your neck again, he still couldn’t help but feel nausea crawling into his core.

He still touched her.

Jim left after his questioning, and you drifted to sleep. He went over to you and looked down at your face, taking everything in.

Since when did you look so mature? When did you get so beautiful?

He couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle. Even in sleep you had your eyebrows tugged down, as if you were angry that you had to go to bed. He didn’t know why he never saw that small part of you that shouted rebellion despite you almost always following his orders.

He realised that when he watched you sleep, you looked a bit like- no. Don’t ever compare the two.

He closed his eyes and pressed his lips to your forehead, trying to convey all of his feelings to you.

He was sorry. So god damned sorry for dragging you into this, for hurting you, for pulling you down to the depths with him.

Hoping you didn’t feel the teardrop that fell to your forehead, he quickly wiped it away before leaving for his press statement.

***

“Master Bruce, please!”

Another crash.

Alfred’s plea snapped him out of his blinding fury, his crushing pain.

He was standing at the hallway near the Manor entrance, glass and broken wood shattered at his feet, feeling the walls closing in and narrowing as Alfred looked at him in alarm.

“I-I’m sorry, Alfred. I-” he stammered, feeling like the small, helpless boy who watched his parents die before him.

He remembered the time when he was little, only a couple of months after the tragedy. He had done the exact same thing, taking out his anger and anguish by destroying things, triggered by something he had long forgotten about.

At that time, Alfred had held him closely in his arms as he stained the butler’s suit with his snot and tears. Again, a burden to the man who raised him.

This time, he refused the old man’s offer of comfort, walking past to descend to the cold darkness of the cave he was so familiar with.

Bruce didn’t usually drink his sorrows away, but this time, he did.

***

Dick wasn’t a good person. He was far from it.

Case in example, it was the first time he saw you after your kidnapping.

He meant to come sooner, he really did. But he was just so busy in Bludhaven, he couldn’t spare any time to rush over the moment he heard his sister was hurt. He tried to justify it in his head by thinking that you were probably handling it fine.

But he was just trying to make himself feel better.

What a great brother he was.

“So, why are you obsessing over violent crimes?” he asked, trying to keep his voice from breaking.

Desensitization was one thing when you worked in that field, but obsession was a whole other problem. And he didn’t want to see his sister walk down that path.

“A lunatic just kidnapped me a couple weeks ago, Dick, maybe this is my coping mechanism,” you huffed, giving him your signature eye roll.

A lot of things start with just a coping mechanism, kid.

Dick knew it about it all too well. The people he brought in on an almost daily basis, high as kites. The accident last week on the highway at three in the morning, two innocent lives taken because of a drunk man who had started drinking three years ago to cope with his mother’s loss.

The man downstairs in the cold cave, who was just a little boy when his parents died, now living with the trauma while going out night after night to beat up criminals, sleeping only three hours a day at most.

“I don’t want your pity, Dick,” you huffed, “I’m fine.”

Yeah, you were. And that was what worried Dick the most.

“I know you are,” he tried to smile, “Which is why I don’t think this is your coping mechanism.”

You talked to Dick about Red Hood, sharing your concerns about him. This is what made you, you. Opening up to him, offering your thoughts and feelings. It was something he never had with Bruce or Jason. The both of them were similar in that sense.

“He won’t tell me either,” Dick huffed, “It’s always been like that with him. No matter how hard I try to get closer to him, sometimes it feels like he’s getting further away.”

It was the same with Jason as well. Did everyone he cared about just end up running away from him?

“I can relate to that,” you sighed.

“But I have a feeling that he will tell you eventually,” Dick tried to comfort you, “It seems too important not to.”

Dick knew better. Bruce had always excluded information from him, whether it was important or not.

“And,” Dick hurriedly tried to change the subject, “I heard from Alfred that you’re not talking to Bruce. May I ask why?”

“So that’s why you’re here,” you eyed him suspiciously. . “I came to check up on you,” he stated, “I’m sorry I couldn’t come here right after, but my little sister did just get kidnapped.”

When are you going to stop putting your guard up around me, kid?

“I told you, I’m fine,” you insisted.

“Then you’re fine enough to tell me why you haven’t been talking to Bruce,” Dick pushed, “I won’t judge. I’ve had my fair share of cold shoulders and fights with him too. I know first hand how frustrating he can be. So come on, tell.”

He saw you hesitate for just a moment, before conceding.

“We fought,” you began, “It was when I got back from the hospital. He wouldn’t tell me who Red Hood was. And he- he called me ‘Jason’.”

Ah, fucking hell, Bruce.

“Jesus,” he whispered, “What did he say exactly?”

“‘Back down, Jason’,” your voice cracked.

Dick saw the way Bruce spiraled after Jason’s death, and he would never tell you this, but deep down he was against Bruce adopting you so soon after. He thought that Bruce was using you to fill up the hole he too felt with Jason’s absence.

You were so like him, yet so different. Still, Bruce must have been really distracted if he could slip as badly as he did.

Dick would ask later.

“Now that’s something I haven’t heard in years,” Dick chuckled humorlessly.

Jason arguing with Bruce about using excessive force. Jason sneaking out to go for patrols whenever he was grounded. Hell, even Jason stealing whiskey from the cabinet at the age of fifteen.

He could still remember it so clearly. Jason with his dark hair poking into his eyes that were full of fury, cheeks puffed up and red as he pouted angrily at Bruce for making him stay at the Manor on nights Bruce insisted on going alone.

Dick tried to shove the past away. He knew he was making you even sadder.

“Has Bruce made any attempts to reconcile?” Dick remembered the conversation he was having with you.

“Yeah, but I’m still mad at him,” you pouted.

“And you have every right to be,” Dick nodded, “But Bruce, well, you know Bruce. He keeps these things to himself, but obviously he’s still hurting.”

You have know idea how much he’s hurting, Little Wing.

You avoided Dick’s eyes, looking down at your fumbling thumbs as the room became silent.

“I’m seeing someone,” you changed the subject.

“You are?”

Interesting.

“Yeah,” you blushed, “It’s still very new, and we’re not official yet or anything. But we’re definitely testing the waters.”

“That’s great,” Dick grinned, “Who is he? Tell me the deets. Spill the tea.”

He sort of loved gossip. It wasn’t a secret.

“I met him in the library a while back,” you excitedly said, “We exchanged numbers. Started texting, meeting up from time to time. He’s really cute.”

Ah, young love. What Dick would give to be at that age again.

“I bet he is,” Dick teased.

“What’s with that face?” you laughed, “He is! He’s slightly older, and he’s got this sexy bad boy look, you know?”

“I thought you liked the nerdy types?” Dick responded. He saw a picture of you and your classmates on your Instagram. Typical prep school kids.

“I never had a type, you ass!” . “You’re right. I thought you were completely uninterested in boys,” he wondered out loud, “Is he nice, at least?”

“Yeah he is,” you smiled to yourself, “He didn’t know I was Wayne until 2 weeks ago. Before that, we were mainly texting. Now we’re meeting up more. I feel like I can be myself with him. I don’t know, there’s just something about him that makes me trust him.”

So you still have some of your walls up with me, but you trust a stranger? Who is this guy?

“I’m not going to tell him anything!” you quickly added, “I’m not stupid. I know I shouldn’t trust someone I just met. It’s not about the confidential stuff. It’s the little things like how I feel, and my problems, and just- stuff, you know?”

The thought didn’t even cross his mind. Dick trusted you enough with their secret, just as how Bruce did.

“I get it,” Dick tried to rationalise, “You don’t know what it is about the person, but you feel like the two of you just click, am I right?”

It had been like that with Barbara. It had been like that with Kory.

Now Dick was alone, and deep down he knew that they saw him as how he truly was. Selfish.

“Exactly,” you smiled, “Been with anyone like that before?”

“One or two,” he brushed it off, “People like that- whom you just click with- they’re hard to come by. You should see where this leads. Who knows, maybe he’s one of those that would stick around, huh?”

What he would give to have at least one person who would stick with him.

After he met with Gordon, Dick went to the cave to see Bruce who was, of course, facing the computers.

“I know what you’re going to say,” his father’s voice echoed without even turning to look at him.

“Then you know how much you’ve hurt her?” he crossed his arms.

Bruce did turn around to face him, and Dick suddenly felt a tightness in his chest.

He knew that Bruce hardly ever slept, but this was different. He looked disheveled, his complexion pale, his eyes more bloodshot and the dark circles even more prominent.

Alfred did say how badly Bruce took the kidnapping, finding him passed out on the cave floor with an empty bottle of scotch in his hand, but he thought that Bruce would have gotten himself together by now. It was surprising to see him that way, and Dick felt… Uncomfortable.

Something was wrong, and it wasn’t just the kidnapping, nor his fight with you.

“You found out something,” Dick narrowed his eyes, “Something important. What is it?”

He caught a flash of guilt in Bruce’s eyes. “I’ll tell you some other time.”

“Bruce,” Dick groaned, “This is why you keep on hurting her.”

Hurting us.

“I’m protecting everyone.”

“You can’t use that excuse with me anymore,” he sighed, “I don’t need your protection. So tell me.”

“No.”

That was his final word, and he knew that Bruce would never budge.

“Fine,” he let out a breath, “Did you know that she’s seeing someone?”

Bruce frowned.

Which made Dick frown. Since when did Bruce miss things? What the fuck was going on with him?

“Name?”

“Dunno. Didn’t ask. And no, don’t you dare,” Dick pointed an accusatory finger at him, “Do not do a background check on him. She deserves privacy. Hell, don’t even bring it up. You have no right to go poking into her relationships.”

Dick was being defensive, but that was because he was trying to convince himself as well, which was why he didn’t ask you for a name. He knew he wouldn’t be able to resist.

“I wasn’t going to,” Bruce reassured, “She… She deserves a life. A normal life. Not this- not-”

Dick knew then he had to leave, because Bruce’s voice breaking meant he was far from okay, and he knew that Bruce hated to show his vulnerability to anyone.

“Bruce,” Dick said, this time softly, “You’re not alone, you know. I’ve been with you since the beginning, and I’m still with you now.”

And with that, Bruce turned his back towards him again, silently going back to his goddamned computers.

“He’s been that way ever since the kidnapping,” Alfred informed him when he walked up to the manor.

“I don’t think it’s just the kidnapping, Alf,” he frowned at the butler, “There’s something more to it. Did he figure out who Red Hood is?”

“Perhaps,” Alfred pursed his lips, “But he refuses to tell me.”

“That means we know him personally,” Dick theorised, “Who the hell could it be that he’s so adamant on keeping it a secret?”

“I do not know Master Dick, but it can’t be anyone good if he’s got Master Bruce drinking during the day.”

***

Bruce knew that he was wrong to call you by his dead son’s name.

But his dead son was supposed to stay dead instead of haunting him with that glaring red bat across his chest, and having that thought in his head all the time, he slipped up.

He prided himself with his contingency plans and detective skills and preparations, but no amount of time could ever prepare him for when he found out his dead son had sexually assaulted his daughter.

You seemed to have dealt with it surprisingly well, exceeding his expectations. In fact, Bruce thought it was a bit odd that you weren’t as affected by it.

And then he saw it.

He saw what he thought was the internalized anger you felt finally bursting through the seams of your tightly lidded emotions.

And he wasn’t prepared for it.

Bruce didn’t think you had it in you, or else he would never have made you Robin.

But there you were on the ground, beating a man beyond recognition.

He couldn’t dread this moment because he never saw it coming. Not from you. Never from you.

He hurriedly ripped you off the man, flinging you away with force.

Pulse was present, but weak. Flail chest. It took him only a few seconds to observe the damage you did to the man’s face. It didn’t look good.

“Stay back,” he growled at you when you came close.

He couldn’t look at you. He didn’t want to.

“I-I didn’t mean to,” he heard you whisper.

“Call an ambulance,” he ordered.

There was no other choice. He had to take the fall for you.

“NOW!” he snarled at you again. In the background, you were on the phone, but Bruce’s thoughts were elsewhere, calculating what needs to be done.

You moved-

“Leave. I’ll deal with this.” You needed to go. You couldn’t be here when the ambulance and police arrived.

“Batman-”

“I said leave,” he snapped. He couldn’t even hear your voice.

He waited for the ambulance to come before leaving, making sure they saw him escape. Making sure he would be the one the media would attack.

And while he drove back to the Cave, he decided to give his son a call.

“Bruce?”

“Dick,” he sighed. He knew he had always been unfair to his eldest, giving him so much pressure to perform, pushing him to be his best- and ultimately away. He knew that he never showed it, but he was proud of Dick. He always had been from the very beginning.

“What’s wrong?”

It wasn’t a surprise that Dick picked up immediately that something was wrong. If it wasn’t for the fact that calling him out of the blue was what gave it away, Bruce himself trained Dick.

“She- she crossed the line tonight,” he tried to explain, “Jerome Miller. She attacked him. The damage she’s done to him is irreversible. I suspect he will be in a vegetative state for the rest of his life.”

“Jesus,” Dick breathed from over the line, “Why didn’t you stop her?”

“I wasn’t there,” he grit. He thought he could trust you.

But deep down Bruce knew that it was all his fault after all. Who was he to act so righteous when he was the reason your parents died?

“I don’t know if she’ll talk to me, Bruce,” Dick sighed, “Not about something like this. She’s probably beating herself up over this already.”

“As she should.”

“Bruce.”

“Please,” Bruce asked, “I’m worried. She isn’t herself and I can’t blame her for it, but the chances of her talking to you are much higher than if I were to try.”

“I’ll try,” Dick agreed.

“Report to me after.”

“Bruce, we’ve talked about this,” Dick grumbled, “I am under no obligation to report to you. I’m doing this for her. Not you.”

He was trying not to go back to the man he was before, but sometimes he couldn’t help it.

They’re your children, not your soldiers.

He had to remind himself time and time again. It was easier to be just a father to you as compared to Dick and Jason, yet even then he made slips.

“I know,” he apologised. “Thank you.”

Click.

And then Bruce was alone again.

***

Bruce watched you from the corner of his eye when you came back. He noticed that you had put more effort into dressing up when you left the house that day.

There was a slight bounce to your step and a small smile that played on your lips.

Dick was right after all. There was someone you were seeing.

But no, he couldn’t look into it. In fact, it would be hypocritical of him if he did. Dick had many girlfriends and flings, and Bruce didn’t want to know about any of them. Mainly because Dick was his first, and the thought of a boy he raised maturing and having relationships made him feel confused about parenthood.

Not that many of them lasted too long anyway.

Jason was a little different. While Dick had girls lining up after him all the time, Jason was much more subtle about the girls he liked, and that made Bruce more curious- but not enough to investigate.

He thought about when Barbara had caught Jason looking at her, making him turn red. He wondered if Jason would like you.

A tight squeeze in his chest.

He didn’t let his mind linger there.

Bruce felt obligated to protect you, which tempted him to investigate the boy you were seeing. It could be a trap, it could be someone using you for fame and money, or something even more sinister. Hell, it could be Jason himself after that stunt he pulled off.

But there was no evidence, and Bruce wanted to be a father to you this time instead of Batman the mentor. So Bruce would have to trust you on this one.

***

There was something holding Bruce back from telling everyone the truth about Jason.

And because he is who he is, Bruce knew what it was.

Guilt. He blamed himself for what had happened, and telling others about it meant owning up to his mistakes. Bruce never ran away from his fears and feelings despite what others might think. On the contrary, he held to them very strongly, using them as a motivation to fight head on.

This time, though, he felt more self destructive- the worst he had ever felt since he carried Jason’s corpse from the rubble- and so he tried to delay the inevitable.

But time was running out. He had enough time to wallow in self pity. It was time to pull himself together, and the first step began with Alfred.

The Cave was colder than usual that night, air thin and darker despite the illumination he had provided. Bruce was slumped in his usual wheeled chair, cowl resting on the desk after patrol, the weight of his suit almost crushing him in his weakened mental state.

“Alfred,” Bruce sighed, “Please, take a seat. I have something to tell you.”

“I assume this is about the identity of one criminal who has been terrorizing your daughter?” Alfred retorted, sitting down anyway.

“Yes,” Bruce nodded, “This… This won’t be easy, Alfred. I suggest you prepare for the worst.”

“And the worst being..?”

Bruce wheeled himself closer to the butler, leaning forward. “It’s Jason.”

Alfred merely blinked. “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m afraid my ears have caught up to my age. I must have misheard you, because for a moment, I thought you said that Red Hood is Jason.”

“You didn’t mishear me, Alfred. It’s him.”

Bruce saw the confusion in Alfred’s eyes, the frantic search for reason. “Our Jason? Jason Todd?”

“Yes, Alfred.”

And then, Bruce felt it. The pain he had been suffering with for weeks spreading to the man who raised him. Alfred clutched his chest with one hand, the other clenching tightly over the armrest of his chair, his breathing quickened.

“Impossible,” he whispered, “Jason died. How?”

“There was an event regarding The League and Superboy punching reality. I won’t get into details, but I suspect that was what caused the initial resurrection. The restoration, however. We know of someone who has been continuously restored time and time again.”

“Ra’s Al Ghul,” Alfred concluded, “But why? Why on Earth would he restore Jason?”

“I don’t know,” Bruce frowned, “But it is an almost perfect revenge plan. I would like to entertain the idea that he has brainwashed Jason into thinking we are the enemy, but I can’t put it past him to develop a hatred for me. I… betrayed him.”

“Master Bruce, this is not your fault,” Alfred rose to his feet, “If it is indeed Jason, we can still help. I have faith in the boy.”

“Me too, Alfred. Me too.”

Bruce didn’t miss the sob that echoed faintly through the cave when Alfred ascended back up.

***

As if in slow motion, he saw every change of emotion on Dick’s face. The way he blinked once in confusion, the surprise approaching as he widened his eyes, and then his eyebrows stitching together in a deep frown, his lips downturning and nose flaring in anger.

Bruce saw the punch coming, but he did not do anything to counter it. Gladly, he took the right hook Dick gave him, appreciating the sting that radiated from his cheekbone to his jaw.

“How long have you known?” his son shook in anger.

“Dick-”

“HOW LONG, BRUCE?!” Dick roared, fists clenched, voice echoing in the cave.

“Since the night he blew up the warehouse,” Bruce replied.

“Jesus, fuck,” Dick ran his fingers through his hair, “Jesus, Bruce. That was over a month ago.”

“I know.”

“We-” he choked on his words, “We deserved to know.”

“I know.”

“So why the fuck didn’t you say anything?!” he slammed his fists on the desk. Bruce caught a few drops of tears that fell to the ground.

“I’m sorry,” Bruce apologised, and meant it. But he just couldn’t bring himself to say anything more.

“You’re sorry?” Dick looked at him with eyes far too cold than he knew, “He was my brother, Bruce. He told me things he never told anyone else. We shared secrets and jokes. We went to the same diner once a week to catch up. He asked for my help and I asked for his. And then he died. Just like that, because you couldn’t keep him on a leash. And now he’s back, and you knew it was him, and you’re just sorry?”

Dick’s eyes were wet and red, and filled with contempt. Bruce couldn’t blame him. He hated himself, too.

“Does she know?” he whispered, “Does she know that the man who attacked her is your son, and is my brother?”

Like always, he pushed the pain away efficiently, logically, objectively.

“Yes,” he confirmed, “I told her this afternoon.”

“And she’s not angry?”

“If she was, she did not show it,” Bruce described, “In fact, she looked… Worried.”

“Of fucking course she would be worried,” he snarled, “She’s worried that she’s going to be irrelevant to you now the dead Robin is back.”

“She’s not,” Bruce growled at that, “She’s not his replacement. She never was.”

“Does she know that, Bruce?” Dick snickered, “Did you finally get over yourself and tell her that? Because the last fucking time I spoke to her, you called her Jason.”

Bruce didn’t know how to respond to that. He was good at smiling at the cameras and making speeches and charming an audience, but he was never good with words, real words that described his true feelings to the ones he cared for the most.

“I’m sorry,” he simply said, now numb to everything throughout years and years of practice. “I promise, I will bring him back. Will you help me?”

“What can I do that you can’t?” Dick scoffed.

“You knew him, Dick,” Bruce said, “You knew him in ways I never did. I can predict his movements, but to accurately guess what his motivations are- you knew him better than I did.”

“Fine,” Dick conceded, “But I’m not forgiving you for this, Bruce. I swear, you’re going to pay for all the secrets you’ve kept from us, be it by my hand or someone else’s.”

***

“Did you know that your daughter went out last night to see a boy while we were patrolling?” Dick brought up.

He was looking at Bruce’s back, as he always was.

Bruce was on the computers, going through hours upon hours of security footage and traffic cams for Red Hood- for Jason.

It was difficult for him to put the two together. Jason had always been his little brother. Young, naive, inexperienced. And now that same person was the leader of the underground.

It was definitely difficult.

“Alfred mentioned she went out, but I didn’t know it was to meet a boy,” Bruce replied without glancing his way.

“Well, she lied to me about it at first,” Dick sank in a chair, looking at his nails. “Got pretty defensive when I brought it up. Even tried to deflect by using Jason against me.”

Dick knew you meant to hurt him with your words, and it worked.

He was definitely surprised that you would stoop that low because he always saw you as a sweet, kind girl.

People change. That’s what happens when you stick with Batman.

But Dick didn’t expect you to change so fast.

“She… used Jason against you?”

Bruce finally turned towards him, the ever constant frown a little bit deeper that moment.

“Yeah,” Dick straightened, “It was the first time she’s ever spoken to me that way.”

“What did she say exactly?”

“That I was distracting myself by using humor as a coping mechanism, and that I should come to terms with the fact that it was my brother who kidnapped and sexually assaulted her,” he repeated bitterly.

“What did you say to her that she responded that way?” Bruce asked.

“I was just making fun of her boyfriend,” Dick shrugged, “Why? Do you think she’s hiding something?”

At first, Dick thought that you were genuinely angry at the both of them because you were right- Jason did kidnap you. Jason did do those things to you. And Jason was supposed to be under both Bruce and Dick’s responsibility.

Dick didn’t blame you for it, because he would have probably been angry if the situation was reversed.

It was one of the mistakes he always made as Robin when Bruce was teaching him how to accurately deduce by reading people. Never assume that someone’s motivations would be the same as your own.

“She hid that she has… someone from me. There must be a reason why.”

“Or she knows how you are and would rather not have your nose in her business, Bruce. She did find out about that tracker you put in her necklace. How did she even react to it?”

Bruce had done the same with both Dick and Jason while they were Robin, though it didn’t come disguised as a pretty, shiny piece of metal.

On the contrary, during Dick’s Robin days, Bruce had hid it behind his third molar while he was unconscious. He only found out after a year, when he was held hostage by a mercenary who wanted to use him to lure Batman. Said mercenary had detected the tracking device and pulled it out along with the tooth.

It made him increasingly more hostile towards Batman and his never ending need for control, but at least it saved him a trip to the dentist.

From what Dick knew, Jason died with his tracker on him.

Bruce had said that it was all done in the name of safety.

But would you tell Jason the same thing now?

“I apologised and never replaced the one Red Hood damaged. I thought that would have been sufficient for her to trust me again.”

Dick let out a bark of laughter at that, but it was void of any humor. “Only you would think that not replacing her damn tracker would make her trust you. No wonder she hasn’t told you anything.”

It was probably best not to mention that you were now also sexually active.

“Do you think she’s hiding something important?” Bruce asked.

“Are you actually asking for my opinion?” Dick smirked, “No, but it’s too soon to tell, anyway. Relax, Bruce. It’s like you forgot what it was like to be young and in love.”

That was obviously a joke. Bruce grew out of his childhood the moment he saw his parents getting killed in that alley.

As for being in love, did Bruce ever allow himself that?

***

“What did you say she called herself?” Nightwing asked softly.

The poor girl was scared out of her mind to the point where Dick found it difficult to extract important information from her ramblings.

Well, that’s what happens when someone makes you kill a person.

It was difficult, so difficult, to face the fact that it was Jason behind all of that.

“I t-think, V,” the witness- Elena- stuttered. “She with him. But try to stop him.”

Behind him, he felt Batman pause. He was walking around the club and analysing evidence while listening to the conversation.

“She tried to stop him? Him as in Red Hood?” Dick frowned.

“Yes,” Elena looked down and rubbed her arms.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but,” Dick tried, “You told me they were partners.”

“Yes, but she try to stop him,” she repeated, “I don’t know.”

“It’s okay,” Dick offered a smile, “Thank you very much. You’ve been a huge help.”

“Am I going to prison?” she looked at him with big, wet eyes.

“We’ll make sure you won’t,” Dick assured, “You’ll get the best defense team in Gotham.”

“You can do that?” she asked, hope in her voice.

“It’s the least we could do,” Dick answered, a sad smile playing on his lips.

He’s our responsibility.

“Thank you,” she gave a watery laugh, “Even prison better than with him, I want to be free.”

Dick heard footsteps approaching. As he turned around, Gordon entered the crime scene, followed by his team.

“Of course you’re here first,” he sighed at Batman.

“Gordon.”

“You might have to speak to the police again, okay?” Dick told Elena who was suddenly nervous again by the presence of so many people. “I’ll make sure they know you’re innocent. Gordon is the only one you can trust, okay?”

She nodded, her gaze turning downwards.

“Gordon,” he approached the aging man. He was used to talking with Gordon in Batman’s stead, even when he was Robin, and remembered feeling proud of himself whenever he finished speaking to Gordon regarding cases without Batman having to add anything.

“Nightwing,” he blinked, “It’s been a while.”

“Desperate times calls for desperate backups,” he grinned, “Anyway, the girl. She’s a victim of Victor Ibenescu’s human trafficking trade. Romanian, only thirteen when she was kidnapped. She was forced to shoot Victor by Red Hood.”

“This Red Hood likes his poetic justice,” Gordon snickered.

“It’s still first degree murder, or at least, that’s how the law would make it seem,” Dick reminded him, “But I assure you she’s innocent. Red Hood threatened to kill and rape her if she didn’t shoot.”

That was a lie, on both his part and Elena’s. Judging by the way she averted her eyes and touched her own arm, Dick could tell that she wasn’t telling the whole truth about being threatened by Red Hood- but he also knew that he couldn’t expose her and get into more trouble.

He wanted to let out a tired sigh, but that would give him away in front of Gordon and the other officers. He still needed to maintain his air of hopefulness, and he couldn’t seem like he was troubled by his thoughts.

Time to meet Bruce back at the cave and watch the surveillance footage.

***

“He’s got a partner now,” Dick voiced out his findings, “Since when did Red Hood partner up?”

Bruce’s frown was deep as he stared at the screen.

Dick pursed his lips. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Whether this is Red Hood or Jason?” Bruce hummed, “This definitely does not seem like anything Red Hood would do. He’s always tried to separate himself from others because it furthers his authoritarian agenda. He does not get friendly with people because people are disposable to him.”

“So you think this is Jason, then?” Dick concluded, “Well, Jason never had much of a problem working with others in the past, and he made some friends. He wasn’t the type to be hostile to people.”

“He did have trust issues,” Bruce pointed out, “At the very beginning.”

“Yes, and he kept a lot of things to himself,” Dick agreed, “But he did have friends.”

“Special friends,” Bruce added, “Friends who gained his respect and trust. So the question is- who is this girl and how did she manage to gain his trust?”

“Hey, play it back again,” Dick said, “Those moves.”

Bruce played the security tape, showing the mysterious girl and Red Hood taking down Victor’s men.

“Arnis,” Bruce pointed out.

“It’s a little different.”

“She has incorporated silat in as well. Low stance,” Bruce observed. “She’s skilled, but not polished. It could be anyone.”

There was something familiar about the girl that Dick couldn’t pinpoint. Dick usually had strong intuition- a gut feeling that enabled him to know which facts to focus on during an investigation, or a strong ability to see through people.

But the problem was that it wasn’t solid proof or evidence, something Batman heavily focused on. It was a gut feeling that told him he knew who the girl was.

“Do you think it’s-” he broke off without completing his sentence. There was nothing to back his claims.

“She has no reason or motive to work with Jason,” Bruce shot the idea down, “He’s hurt her. And… She wouldn’t betray me like that.”

“She’s been keeping secrets, Bruce,” Dick reminded, hating the fact that this time it was him who was suspicious.

Oh, how the tables have turned.

Because he never would have thought that Jason was capable of torture and murder, either.

Why didn’t he come to me?

“As you clearly pointed out prior to this,” Bruce grit, “She has her reasons as to why she’s keeping secrets. And it is most probably because of me. All of you kept secrets. But this time, I’d like to let her keep hers.”

It was sweet, seeing Bruce that way.

“Is it guilt?” Dick asked.

“It’s repentance.”

Dick hated playing the bad guy.

Because he wasn’t supposed to be. He was the one people looked up to for inspiration, he was the light to Batman’s darkness, he was the smiles and charms and laughter.

He wasn’t the one who would accuse his little sister of fraternizing with the- was Jason the enemy?

Shit. Jason had messed with his senses. Dick’s head was chaotic, his emotions causing him to tense up.

Was he wrong? Was he just like Bruce? Was he jumping to conclusions just because Alfred told him you were out? Should he investigate this Carter you said you were with?

No. I’m not Bruce.

And now, you were looking at him with angry eyes, betrayed and appalled by his accusation.

*** Large.

That was the first thing that came to Dick’s mind when he saw his little brother.

The last time Dick saw him, he was much shorter, and definitely not as bulky.

And the last time Dick saw Jason, he was giving him a hug goodbye, complaining that Dick had messed up his hair.

And now, Jason was aiming a gun at him.

The gunshot didn’t hurt nearly as much as the thought that Jason had indeed shot him. Did Jason hate him that much?

You’re almost as guilty as he is, Jason’s voice echoed in his head.

“Bruce,” he gasped in the comms, “I’m down. They got away.”

“I heard a gunshot,” the deep voice in his ear spoke.

“Yeah, Jason shot my leg,” Dick winced, “Didn’t hit bone but I think it nicked my artery.”

“There are children here,” Batman said, “I was right. He’s sabotaging the Powers’. Gordon should be here soon. You control your bleeding.”

Dick nodded to himself and took a deep breath before plunging his finger into the gunshot wound to keep himself from bleeding out.

***

“...suspects that the crime lord only known as Red Hood and an unidentified female were behind the home invasion. Maria and Joseph Powers were left in a gruesome state according to reports, but their only child Carrie Powers was unharmed. The authorities are not sure what Red Hood’s motive was, but more will be elaborated during Commissioner Gordon’s public address later this afternoon...”

Dick heard you close the door.

“You didn’t come home last night,” he lowered the volume of the television.

“Uh, yeah,” you answered.

Dick looked over at you. You seemed tired, eyes swollen and red from crying, wearing an oversized t-shirt that he didn’t recognize.

“I was at-”

“Carter’s?” he finished your sentence for you.

“Yeah,” you nodded, sitting down next to him on the sofa.

Dick frowned to himself. Your arms were crossed, you were avoiding eye contact, your body was angled away from him.

“You heard about the Powers’?” he turned his gaze towards the television.

“I saw the news on the way here,” you monotoned.

You smelled like a different shampoo. It was familiar, but Dick couldn’t remember where he had smelled it before.

“So you know that-”

“Yes, Jason did it,” you said rigidly.

“Along with-”

“His partner.”

Ah, now he remembered the smell. Jason’s favorite shampoo. He used to make fun of him for choosing one that was called what it was called. He didn’t really care about it, Dick kept his hair soft and fluffy with multiple women’s hair products. He just liked to rile Jason up because he was so defensive about it.

And with that, Dick let out a long, disappointed sigh.

“Bruce is in the cave. I suggest that you think long and hard about what to tell him,” Dick offered you a soft smile, “But no matter what you choose to say, you’ll always be my sister, and I’ll always love you no matter what, okay?”

You gave him a look of shock, and then realised that he had figured it out.

“I’m sorry, Dick,” you lips trembled, your eyes started brimming with tears.

“No, kid. I’m sorry,” he replied, “Go.”

You nodded and left.

Despite being right all along, he didn’t feel any sense of achievement. Dick couldn’t help but partly blame himself. For being so absent, for being neglectful, for being a bad brother.

Dick wasn’t perfect, but like hell would he stop trying to be.

***

For years Bruce had tried to stop feeling guilty for being relieved whenever someone else takes care of a problem he couldn’t solve- especially when it involved murder.

Bruce had tried to take down the Powers for almost a decade, and everytime he got close, there was always another obstacle in the way. It was difficult to expose the rich and powerful without resorting to violence, without resorting to breaking his principles.

So Bruce was ready to stop himself from internally celebrating their deaths. This time, however, he wasn’t as pleased. Because this time, it was Jason who brutally murdered two people. Jason, who was supposed to be under his care and responsibility.

“Bruce?” he heard your timid, small voice from behind him. “I have to tell you something.”

And there it was.

Bruce turned around and looked straight at you, piercing your eyes with his own as he waited on your confession.

A minute passed.

“I’m V,” you struggled to speak, “I’ve been meeting up with Jason for a few months now. I didn’t know he was Red Hood until you told me. But when you did tell me, I chose to confront him and team up with him anyway.”

Bruce didn’t say anything.

“He- he’s not a bad person, Bruce,” you justified, “He’s just really hurt. He needs help.”

You were telling Bruce things he already knew.

“I- I fell in love with him,” you continued, “And I let my feelings cloud my judgement and betrayed your trust. At first I thought that he was onto something, that his… methods were better than yours. And I was angry that you kept secrets from me. But after last night- after what I saw- I couldn’t- I couldn’t stay.”

Bruce clenched his jaw.

He suspected it. Dick suspected it. But for your sake, the both of them chose to put their trust in you. He had tried so hard to change from his old ways. He learned his lesson with both Dick and Jason.

He didn’t want you to go through the same thing they did.

So, he chose to blindly trust you anyway, hoping that he wasn’t right.

“I’m sorry, Bruce,” you were sobbing now, “I’m so sorry. Please, say something.”

After another minute of watching you break down in front of him, Bruce finally spoke up.

“Hang up your colors. You’re no longer my Robin.”

#Red Who #Red Hood x Reader #jason todd x reader

[ckneal]

There’s a midam AU idea that’s been living in the back of my mind for months now, but it’s been slow going. Mainly because I suspect that doing the idea justice is going to mean doing more research than I’m used to, and maybe even rewatching the series proper to help me fill in some of the weak spots, and I have so many other story ideas that are frankly just easier to work on, two of which are already slated to be multi-chapter works. . . But I’m in the mood to type up something longwinded, so here we go. Keep reading if you’d like to see a rough outline of the first few chapters of this story I really hope to write out properly sometime.

(Warning, this is a long one.)

So, this story is loosely based on the Hundred Years War that took place between England and France from 1337-1453. But it’s only very loosely inspired. Very, very loosely. As in, I was reading a book, I read about one thing that happened, it germinated in my head, and then suddenly I had a plot developing that featured my current favorite ship. Additional sources of inspiration include one of my favorite fantasy series, and a personally beloved trashy romance novel. Because it’s fanfiction, folks. There are no rules here.

Of course, in this AU, the entire world is going to be made up, with neither side of the war distinctly being assigned the role of England or France—or Flanders or Burgundy, for that matter. I barrowed an inciting incident, and few smaller details from history to help things along here and there, but with no regard for keeping all the French things assigned to one group and the English ones to another.

That said, the inciting incident took its inspiration from the Battle of Poiters, a conflict during which England not only won against the French, but also took their king hostage. King Jean II was later ransomed back to his people, but at a sum that was so high, France could not afford to pay it all at once. England still returned France’s king, but new hostages were provided to serve as collateral during the interim, including the King’s son.

So. . .crown Prince Michael Shurley completely decimates King John Winchester on the battlefield, and sends his demands to John’s queen, Mary Winchester. The two kingdoms have been locked in a territory dispute for several decades, and this is one of the more humiliating events to befall the smaller kingdom yet, especially since they are unable to meet all of Michael’s demands. When the Winchesters begrudgingly admit this to the Shurley representatives, they’re caught off guard when they’re offered a trade: John Winchester will be returned, so long Dean Winchester takes his place as collateral.

Things are less than stable in the Winchester kingdom however, with more than a few factions quietly scheming for power. John and Mary were an arranged marriage that was originally held up like a fairytale when the two seemingly fell madly in love during their mandated courtship, but the years afterward had changed them. Civil unrest sparked by the war had brought out a lot of disagreements between the Winchesters and the Campbells and their approaches to governing.

John’s supporters are the ones to step forward with a plan, and convince Mary that it’s vitally important the people are not alarmed by their king’s capture. Mary initially finds it distasteful, but it’s talked around and adjusted and reframed, as John’s people ferret out more and more information about the vital party involved, until she finally agrees.

Because John Winchester just happened to have a bastard son. The resemblance to Dean might not be particularly remarkable, but no one at the Shurley court has ever seen the Winchester heir before. Plus, Adam Milligan has spent the entirety of his teen years studying to become a physician, of all things. He’s perfect for their purposes. 

Ten years prior, the Shurley court had had to deal with its own bout of civil unrest, when King Chuck Shurley’s second eldest son had attempted to overthrow him with the support of several nobles from one the kingdom’s richest providences. Lucifer had allegedly been driven into exile following his defeat, and Chuck had been said to have contracted some sort of mysterious illness. According to rumors, the king had shut himself up in his private chambers and refused to admit anyone apart from his remaining children. Even servants were barred from tending him directly.

They snatch Adam away from his studies and force him into compliance by dusting off an archaic law left over from before the start of the war, when the kingdom relied on a conscription military force rather than a standing army full of career military professionals—this law empowering the crown to call on any of its citizens for a minimum forty days of military service per year. They tell Adam that his mission seems more dangerous than it is—really, all he has to do is pretend to be Dean, and use his medical knowledge to figure out exactly what mysterious illness has bedridden the enemy monarch.

Sam and Dean—the proverbial heir and spare of the kingdom—are not at court to meet their younger brother, when he’s hastily fitted for a royal wardrobe and put through a crash course on court etiquette. Sam is very publicly put on display at a holiday festival in another part of the kingdom, while Dean is sent orders to quietly stay behind at a country estate while his valet, Kevin Tran, is sent on to court. Neither of the princes is told about the plan until after Adam has already been shipped out, with Kevin in toe to help Adam along with the impersonation.

No one involved is in anyway comfortable with the mission. But it was only supposed to be for forty days. Adam was assured that the necessary funds to pay off the ransom would either be raised by the end of the minimum mandated service, or they would make contact to extract him. The Campbells and the Winchesters both allegedly had spies in the Shurley court, and they would make themselves known when the time was right.

Adam is given the impression that the latter had been told to him with the intention of making him feel safer. It did not work.

He’s terrified when he arrives—almost would have preferred being promptly thrown into a dungeon upon arrival, instead of a room full of foreign nobility who one and all give off the impression that if cut they’d bleed straight silver, and look at “Dean,” the hostage prince and purported military genius from the tiny, vicious country across the channel, as a curiosity to be studied. He’s assigned two guards (who I decided will be Anael and Samandriel, based entirely on the tags I threw together at then end of this post, during which I decided that I love these three together), who follow him around relentlessly, but beyond that, he’s. . .pretty much treated like a guest. If a stiflingly monitored one. There are limitations on where he can go and what he can do, but for the most part he’s just sort of. . .there.

Most unnerving of all, however, is the small package that Adam finds in his room when he first settles in. Kevin swears he has no idea who left it. It has the Campbell’s insignia clearly worked into the pattern of the paper it’s wrapped in, and inside he finds a knife small enough to conceal on his person, and a number of different herbs and powders that he recognizes from his studies—though of course, he’s more familiar with remedies to counteract their effects.

In other words, he finds an assassin’s-first-kill-job kit, and instructions on how and when to use it, if opportunity arises. This had not been part of the deal when Adam reluctantly signed on.

Unbeknownst to Adam however—though suspected by some parties in the Winchester court—Adam cannot assassinate Chuck Shurley, because Chuck is not there. Shortly after Lucifer’s insurrection, Chuck had quietly disappeared. Michael had only been a teenager at the time. He invented the story about Chuck being ill on impulse, certain that Chuck would be back sooner than later, and Raphael had gone along with it because, being twelve years old, Raphael was not yet old enough to question Michael’s judgement. It is now an awkward point between them.

Adam soon becomes another.

Michael regularly checks in to see how Adam’s getting on, in a way that Kevin assures Adam is entirely appropriate, since Michael is under the impression that Adam is going to be a fellow monarch someday, and is likely trying to be courteous. Adam inherently feels somewhat flustered around Michael though, which is not helped by the fact that Michael is somehow always present whenever Adam puts his foot in his mouth socially. On more than one occasion, he’s thankful that almost no one has actually been to his homeland, allowing Adam to blame an astonishing number of fuck ups on cultural differences.

Michael and Adam’s early one on one interaction are intensely awkward. Adam will forget to wear gloves, and then Michael will comment that Adam’s hands are oddly devoid of callouses for someone who’d practically been raised with a sword in his hand, leaving Adam to scramble for some flimsy excuse about hand cream. Adam will inquisitively ask questions about what sort of illness would be severe enough to leave someone bedridden for a decade but not kill them in that time (Kevin frantically motioning over Michael’s shoulder to convey that that is NOT the right way to fish for details on such a sensitive subject), and Michael will struggle to find an excuse around the quietly bubbling panic, because he hasn’t had to try to explain anything about his father since that first year, and he is not a particularly gifted liar.  

And then there’s Raphael.

Unlike Michael, Raphael is suspicious of “Dean” right from the start, pulling Michael aside to point out things that don’t seem quite right according to what their informants have told them about Dean Winchester.

“Doesn’t he look a bit young?”

“Some people look younger than they are, Raphael.”

“I was told Dean Winchester had dark hair.”

“Dark blond is dark.”

“Aren’t his eyes supposed to be green?”

“They’re obviously blue.”

“That’s exactly my point.”

The forty days come and go with Adam and Kevin nervously waiting for some sort of sign from home. Roughly two weeks later, a messenger arrives with unexpected news for Michael’s court: the Campbells have officially broken ties with the Winchesters in a violent bid for power that has left the kingdom at war with itself.

According to Kevin, the civil war has probably slowed things down a bit, if it’s as bad as the rumors say. . .

Adam and Kevin are stranded.

“Don’t worry though—I know Dean, and he knows our necks are on the line. He’ll keep out of sight until they manage to get us out of here.”

Adam finds it difficult to put faith in the virtues of a brother he’s never met, but doesn’t have it in him to question Kevin’s faith. He worries about his mother, who might have been safe in the countryside, but also might have made the trek to the capitol when it came out that Adam had been abducted for the sake of persevering the royal family's throne. He can’t be sure.

And to top it off, Michael takes to stopping by Adam’s room every couple of days to privately talk about the movements of the various factions—who has been sighted where and in what condition, where they’re rumored to be headed. Adam interprets it as an attempt to shake out inside information. One day, Adam finally tries to set him straight by saying it doesn’t matter how many ugly details Michael throws at him, Adam can’t help him because he doesn’t know anything—and is promptly put to shame when Michael looks at him in surprise and says, “You misunderstand. I assumed that you would want to know these things, because they are your family.”

Michael leaves, and Adam’s guards exchange a look. When asked, Samandriel awkwardly tells Adam that the royal family used to have a fourth child. Gabriel. He was lost during Lucifer’s insurrection. Pirates overtook his ship. They’d never received a ransom. Michael had purportedly offered a standing reward for any news of Gabriel, and put an unwise amount of resources into searching for him until it threatened the war effort.

Adam and Michael start talking more frequently from there, starting with an apology on Adam’s part. It’s tricky at first, because Michael starts out asking questions about Dean Winchester's military exploits—it is the most likely common ground between them, after all—and Adam has to hastily change the subject every time. By the two month mark, they’re talking affably, and rumors start to circulate through the courts as Michael's routine check ins on Adam start getting less formal and more frequent.

On the four month mark, rumors get even worse. Raphael finally sits Michael down and really gets into all of the things about “Dean” that don’t add up, item by item. If he’s trying to pretend he doesn’t know anything about his country’s military exploits, he’s far too convincing given his reported record, and Raphael has it on good authority that more than half of those “cultural differences” in etiquette that keep cropping up are completely unfounded—and look here, three different informants have sent lists of Dean Winchester’s physical characteristics, and the foreign prince DOES NOT MATCH.

“Michael, something is not right here.”

“Fine, I’ll talk to him about it now.”

And Michael storms off to address “Dean,” while Raphael calls after him that he should wait until morning. Because it is the middle of the night.

Adam just happens to be up reading. Michael’s familiar with the book. Michael gets distracted, and they talk all night. The sun’s coming up when Michael finally leaves, and a servant happens to see him slipping out of Adam’s room. Suggestive conjectures promptly follow, and Raphael exasperatedly admits they only have themself to blame.

And this only gets worse, because now Adam and Michael have transitioned into being friends. No more guarded conversations where one is convinced the other is about to catch them in some sort of lie. When Raphael mentions that some of the lesser nobles are starting to think Michael and Adam are courting, Michael’s fidgeting is not at all lost on them, as Michael assures them that of course that isn't the case. He and Dean are merely establishing friendly relations that will serve them well down the road politically—

“After the war is over?”

“Of course, after the war is over.”

Adam’s been stranded in the Shurley court for almost a year by the time that he finally slips into his room and sees a sealed message set out on his bed. Adam doesn’t recognize the insignia as belonging to either the Winchesters or the Campbells, but it’s signed with the initials “SW” at the bottom. It mostly contains a lot of vague phrases that make Adam wonder if he was supposed to be versed in some sort of code. As far as he’s concerned, the only important information comes at the end: Kate Milligan has been safely relocated for the duration of the civil war.

Relieved, Adam goes down to dinner, where some sort of seasonal holiday is being celebrated, and has a bit more wine than he normally would. The Shurley court is one of those stuffy courts where seating is stiffly dictated by tradition. As a foreign prince, Adam’s assigned seat is at the same table as Michael, although, according to Kevin, his placement's much further down due to his being a hostage. After a few drinks, and after most of the nobles have cleared off from the table to talk and celebrate elsewhere in the hall, Adam sees no reason not to get up and relocate down the line of chairs to sit closer to Michael. It was against the rules, but Adam was aware enough not to sit in Raphael’s empty seat, and he’d been seen with Michael so often that Anael and Samandriel barely even blinked, because Adam obviously wasn’t about to attack their prince or anything.

However, it is worth noting that while talking to Adam, Michael consumes a decent amount more wine than he would normally have as well.

Later that night, Michael’s walking Adam back to his room, and he starts to comment that Adam seems happier than usual. But even when sober, Michael would struggle to say something like that—if he’d even attempt it while sober—and Adam winds up biting his lip as he watches Michael’s mounting embarrassment, as a simple compliment inexplicably morphs—words seemingly forcing their way out as Michael tries and utterly fails to stop them—into a compliment about how Adam is beautiful—that is, he’s always beautiful—that is, Michael can’t help noticing Adam most days—that is. . .

. . .Michael is adorable. And in a moment of pure, thoughtless impulse, Adam leans in and kisses Michael right there in the corridor.

Michael is profoundly shocked, and his reaction delayed. Adam had only gone in intending to briefly press his lips against Michael’s, but as he’s pulling away Michael abruptly leans in and reseals the kiss, and Adam in turn takes that as an invitation to pull Michael closer. And a few minutes later, Raphael happens to walk down the hallway and find the two of them enthusiastically kissing against the wall.

And Raphael promptly turns around and goes back the way they came, only stopping at one point to flag down a servant and order them not to let anyone else walk down that particular corridor for at least an hour, hoping that Michael and Adam’s “friendly relations” wouldn’t result in anything too inappropriate.

As it happens, nothing particularly inappropriate happens. Nonetheless, Michael still wakes up the next morning, fully clothed in his own bed, in panic because the first thought to distinctly make its way through the ungodly pain in his head is that he’d taken liberties with a guest the night before. The heir to a foreign power at that, a peer, a hostage! Michael never thought he was capable of something so dishonorable--he’d had Dean pressed up against the wall as if they were a couple of ill-bred urchins, and how does one even go about apologizing for something like that?

(Of course, if Michael were thinking clearly, he might have remembered that Adam had actually been the one to back himself up against the wall, with Michael obligingly following along, quite malleable to whatever positioning Adam wanted so long as Adam kept kissing him.)

Michael’s behavior was beyond unacceptable. If his father hadn’t already abandoned them, he’d likely disown Michael out of pure shame. There was no telling what kind of damage he’d done to the relationship between their kingdoms. At best, Michael’s uncouth actions would be a dirty secret between them in the years to come, after Dean married, and Michael was left barely able to look Dean’s spouse in the eye. If Michael were a lesser noble, his parents might demand he married Dean outright.

And suddenly Michael sat up in bed, realizing he could marry Dean. His mind begins racing, because of course he could marry Dean! It made perfect sense. They enjoyed each other’s company, and with both of them being heir to their respective kingdoms, their union would effectively end the war. It might be complicated—especially given some of the odd customs Dean had introduced to Michael’s court—but marriages had been used to cemented alliances often enough, and the thought of marrying Dean elicited a curiously hot feeling in Michael’s stomach, remembering the way Adam had pulled him close the night before.

(Fun fact, England and France actually did try to do this with the Treaty of Troyes in 1420; it did not go as planned.)

Michael goes through the rest of his day in an uncharacteristically upbeat mindset, because now it all seems to just be a matter of organizing things, and he is good at organizing. He would have to write to either John or Mary Winchester as soon as the situation in their kingdom settled, and formally ask for Dean’s hand, and he and Dean should have a chaperone present at all times moving forward to avoid scandal--though there would be no way to sidestep scandal altogether, of course. Adam was still technically Michael’s prisoner. 

More than likely, the Winchesters or Campbells would demand Michael relinquish his claim to at least half of the territories that they’d spent the last few decades fighting over, but that would be fine. It’s traditional in Michael’s country to give gifts to one’s in-laws, and Dean is a future monarch. Anything too little would be insulting, and all would be consolidated eventually when Dean and Michael assumed their respective thrones. . .

Michael is still walking around delightfully living in his own head when Raphael pulls him into an empty room to discuss what they witnessed the night before. While not the most shocking scenario they could have imagined, they were not expecting to hear their brother announce that he and Dean Winchester would be getting married.

“And how are we to explain away our father’s absence during the proceedings, Michael?”

Michael’s good mood promptly withers. Because of course Chuck would be expected to play some part in arranging his son’s wedding. Ill or not, at the very least, he would be expected to make an appearance at the wedding. To have no part in it at all would be suspicious, not to mention rude.

While Raphael intended to snap Michael back to his senses, they had not meant to shake Michael into an immediate depression. They try for a gentler tone.

“You know, Michael. Our father has been gone for over a decade. He left no formal plans, he's sent no word. By any standard, he's abdicated. Perhaps this isn’t the right time to introduce a political marriage. Perhaps we should consider your assuming the kingship, and then come back around to formalizing your relationship with Dean—”

Michael, of course, is against this. Because their father is alive, and he will come back, and it will not be to find that another one of his sons had greedily tried to usurp the throne.

Seeing Michael about to fall back onto a familiar tangent, Raphael chooses the lesser of two evils and takes the conversation back to “Dean.” They ask which out of the two of them proposed to the other.

Michael abruptly realizes that he's forgotten something.

Meanwhile, Adam starts his morning on a much happier note. His headache is less punishing than Michael’s, and while feeling the normal amount of embarrassment that comes with drinking a little too much, the feeling does not extend to kissing Michael. His mother’s safe, he’s nailing his Dean impression, and Michael apparently likes him. Things could not be better. Until Adam remembers how the latter two items on that list are linked.

Michael is not like a classmate back home, who he could chat up, get a drink with, and maybe start seeing regularly if all things went well. Michael is, in fact, the acting ruler of one of the most powerful countries in the world, which just so happens to be at war with Adam’s, and under the explicit impression that Adam is similarly situated in the world.

Adam promptly begins freaking out.

And then Michael finds him.

Adam’s in the library at the time. Michael walks in and quietly dismisses Adam’s guards, and Kevin, leaving the two of them completely alone. Adam doesn’t realize what Michael’s doing right away, though he’s spent enough time with Michael to recognize how nervous he is as he starts talking about a proposal to end the war—selling the idea, as if Michael wouldn’t be enough on his own—and then sheepishly tapering into the idea that both he and Adam seem to have feelings for one another. And if Adam were able to go back in time and strangle his tipsy past self, he would, because then he wouldn’t have to see the look on Michael’s face when he says no.

And no, Michael does not understand.

Adam can hear years of living in the public eye at work in Michael voice, as he just manages to keep his voice level in asking, “Even if it would mean peace?”

"I'm sorry, I just—I can't."

". . .I see."

Michael excuses himself, and Adam collapses onto a couch, assuring himself that no was the only right answer, and he shouldn’t feel terrible—which, of course, since Adam’s spent the last couple of months flirting with Michael while posing as someone else, is not an easy idea to buy into.

Michael and Adam avoid eye contact at dinner, even as Raphael—who has zero doubts as to who initiated what the night before—practically burns holes into Adam’s skin with the looks they shoot down the table.

And then a messenger comes in. One of the wealthiest duchies in the kingdom (the same one that had once supported Lucifer, and of course would be populated with demon characters in the narrative) has declared its independence, having formed an alliance with the Campbells, and has launched an attack not far from the castle. Several villages have already been attacked along the way. Michael accompanies the armed forces he sends out to quash the uprising.

Raphael is left behind to fortify the castle and take in the refugees, who the messenger assured them are not far behind. Unlike Michael, Raphael rarely saw combat. Officially, it was because Raphael had adamantly insisted on training as a healer rather than a warrior, which was true enough. Unofficially though, Michael and Raphael are both fully aware that if anything happened to Michael, Raphael is the only one left to inherent the crown.

Samandirel and Anael escort Adam back to his room. Samandriel assures Adam that no one thinks he had anything to do with the duchy double crossing them, but it would probably just be safer for Adam to stay out of sight until things calm down. Anael is more closed-lipped about the situation.

From his window, Adam watches the first of the villagers come trickling in, and even from his vantage point he can make out burn wounds, makeshift bandages and hastily thrown together tourniquets, and he’s in hell, because it seems the only two options in front of him are to worry about Michael, or feel absolutely sick with guilt because he’s a trained physician and he should be down there helping.

Finally he pokes his head out into the corridor and asks if someone can find Kevin for him. Anael raises an eyebrow that “Dean,” who’s usually inordinately self-suffice for a prince, is suddenly insisting that he needs to see his manservant, but Samandriel is already helpfully heading down the hall. A few minutes later, Kevin is in Adam’s room, confused, as Adam asks him to take off his clothes.

“You can have mine, just switch with me, okay?”

“Uuh. . . Don’t you think mine will be a little tight on you—”

“Less talk! Strip!”

Michael had probably errored in assigning the same two guards to watch over Adam. After a year, the three of them had gotten to be on fairly familiar terms. Adam waited until Samandriel started to get chatty, and slipped quietly out of his room when Anael was distracted—neither of them having had any reason to think Adam would try to escape, because he had been nothing but compliant since the day he arrived.

From there, he goes straight to the infirmary.

Raphael had set up tents in the courtyard to accommodate the high number of people in need of care. Adam was a year out of practice, but the atmosphere was still familiar to him, and he slipped into the chaos unnoticed. Raphael doesn’t notice him until they are well into the thick of things, and Adam’s as covered in grime and gore as anyone else present. Adam had just gone for more bandages and the two of them nearly ran into each other, and for a split second Adam thinks Raphael just might not recognize him until hand closes around his arm like a vice.

“What exactly are YOU doing here?”

Then Raphael notices the stitches Adam had just finished putting in for his latest patient—and Adam’s stitchwork is immaculate, not the clumsy, half-hazard work of a solider who picked up the mechanics of it over the course of their career.

"YOU did that?"

Adam starts to fumble out an answer, but they are interrupted because then Michael is being brought in. The fighting is over. Raphael and Adam promptly drop everything.

Michael has a concussion. He’s also been lightly stabbed. You know, just lightly. Needs stitches though. Raphael is adamant that Adam leave immediately, but Michael, who is delirious, sees Adam and absolutely refuses to let Raphael send him away. Raphael winds up patching Michael together while Adam—annoyingly, to Raphael—is sat next to him, holding Michael’s hand. Adam winds up sitting next to Michael all night, because it’s the only way to keep Michael from getting up and tearing his stitches like a feverish moron.

Initially, Raphael refuses to leave too, not trusting their brother’s suspiciously competent love interest, whose family was purportedly allied with the traitors who’d just attacked their people. There are still more wounded to tend to, however, and Raphael begrudgingly has to step away—making sure to leave orders that a guard be present in the room the entire time that Raphael is gone.

Little does Raphael know, Adam would have lowkey given a limb to have Raphael stay. Michael’s demeanor is a lot less closed off when he’s feverish and concussed. Shortly after Raphael leaves, Michael starts apologizing for proposing earlier, and Adam feels like he’s been stabbed in the gut. And as he’s lying there, looking at Adam’s hand in his, Michael starts saying things he would not normally blurt out—like that ending the war was not the main reason he wanted to marry Adam, because the last year has been the best he can remember, and it is entirely due to spending time with Adam—even if Adam was only there by obligation—and he would do anything to make Adam happy, even if they weren’t together—and Adam is just stuck there, highkey dying on the inside.

Then Michael sees his face.

"I apologize, you’ve already said you do not want to marry me, I should not have brought this up—”

Michael starts to get out of bed completely unconcerned about his stab wounds, and as Adam’s pushing him back down, the words “That’s not true!” just sort of. . .fly out.

Then Michael’s suddenly looking at Adam, and his face is suddenly very sober, and Adam can feel his own face turning red.

"That is, I. . ." Adam realizes, suddenly, that he’s fucked. Telling Michael the truth is somehow both the right and wrong thing to do at the same time, and Michael is definitely in no condition to hear it either way. “How about, if you still want to marry me when all this is over, then I’ll say yes?”

The next morning is a string of stressful events for Adam. Raphael shooed him out of Michael room at dawn, and Adam went straight back to his own. Kevin, Samandriel, and Anael had all been reprimanded for Adam’s escape, with the latter two being replaced as Adam’s guard under Raphael’s orders. His first interaction with Ishim and Maribel does not bode well for them becoming friends.

When Adam tells Kevin that he’s thinking about coming clean to Michael, Kevin panics. News from the Winchesters had dried up weeks ago, even for Michael and Raphael’s sources. Kevin argues that they’d be better off attempting to escape on their own if the charade was getting to be too much for Adam, especially after last night—but even then, they should wait awhile longer. Why take any chances right now? And Adam doesn’t know how to go about explaining the why. . .

And it gets taken out of his hands anyway, when they step out of the room and find that it’s somehow leaked that Adam and Michael—who had completely misunderstood what Adam meant by “when all this is over”—are engaged.

Kevin doesn’t get another moment alone with Adam to discuss how stupidly dangerous this whole situation is, and Adam, no matter how hard he tries—can’t seem to get a moment alone with his fiancé to try to explain that the situation is not what he thinks it is. Everyone had vastly underestimated how far the rumors about Michael and Adam secretly courting had gone, and Adam can barely take three steps without a noble or courtier or someone pulling him aside to offer their congratulations, and as Adam gets closer to Michael’s chambers, there’s Raphael, circling like a shark and Adam does not want to make his confession to Raphael before he sees Michael.

Come dinner time, Adam finds that his seat had been reassigned. He now sits directly to Michael’s left. He keeps trying to convince Michael to step out into the hall with him for a second, while Raphael, seated in their normal place to Michael’s right, continuously circumvents him, firmly believing that Adam has done more than enough in private.

Then there’s a scream. A servant comes running out into the dining hall, carrying a bloody knife. They run up to Michael—up until the guards step forward to stop her, but she’s not attacking. Instead she hands over the knife and says that she found in the corridor outside the king’s chambers. She had been worried, so she broke protocol and went in. The king’s bed was drenched in blood.

Adam looks over and feels a chill when he recognizes the same knife that had been included in the murder kit he found in his room on day one.

If Raphael had looked up, Adam had no doubt that Raphael would have read something in his face, but they didn’t get the chance to. Michael and Raphael are busy staring at each, the only ones in the room who know beyond any doubt that the implication could not be true, because there had not been anyone in that bed to assassinate in over ten years. Neither of them is given the chance to try to spin the knife’s implications in any direction, however. While the court is still reeling in shocked silence, a guard walks in—completely oblivious—and announces that a messenger has arrived with urgent news.

Adam looks up, and finds he has room to panic more, when he sees Anna Milton walk in, a serving maid in the Winchester court, and as she drops a curtsey to Michael, she identifies herself as one of Raphael’s spies. She had held her place in the Winchester court for as long as she could, but when her real identity had been uncovered she’d had no choice but to flee, and she’s come with monumental news. The civil war across the channel has ended, the Campbells having been forced to seek asylum with their allies outside the kingdom, John Winchester deposed, and Dean Winchester installed on the throne in his place. She had witnessed his coronation herself the very day they identified her.

And Adam feels very cold, as if his blood had actually managed to turn into ice, which would have explained why he couldn’t seem to move, as every eye in the room immediately turns to him.

 And that would be the end of part one.

#midam #adam milligan #supernatural michael #samandriel #supernatural raphael #anael #kevin tran #my thougths #i'm very tempted to throw jack in a joan-of-arc-inspired role

[abellalu]

Just a Job: Part 1

Summary: The Avengers have been trying to recruit a former SHIELD Agent who has been working freelance. The Agent finally agrees to work with them, but immediately dislikes the idea of having to work with Bucky Barnes (for now).

Warnings: cursing, annoyed Bucky

Word Count: 1.6k

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N: This is just something fun I start planning/writing. I’m not sure how long this series will be, but I have quite a few chapters planned (the next chapters will also be longer) I’m not usually a writer, but hopefully you still enjoy this. Any feedback is totally welcome!

[ Masterlist | AO3 ]

“Steve, you should just tell me the mission and so I can just complete it on my own.” You said as you paced back and forth across Steve’s office. 

This wasn’t the first time you’ve had this conversation with Steve, and you don’t expect it to be the last time. Every few weeks, Steve and the Avengers are planning a mission, Steve asks for your help, and you say no. Though, most of these conversations happen over email. 

“While I do admire your confidence, you know these types of missions are dangerous to do on your own and my job is to keep everyone here safe.” Steve looked directly at you showing that he was not willing to negotiate. 

“Your job is to keep the Avengers safe, not me. I still haven’t agreed to work for all of you and I don’t plan on it.” 

Steve looks directly at you as he starts to speak, “I know what you are capable of. You are incredibly resourceful and intelligent. That’s why I invited you to work with us in the first place, but you can’t always be independent. You can work with a team again, and be surrounded by people who care about you.” 

You laugh to yourself. Steve always loved bringing up the idea of you working with a team again. He valued working with others so much, and yet you could never see the point. You used to work with others, then felt betrayed when you realized it was all a lie. Steve was always someone you could trust though. It's sort of part of his brand, good old Captain America. He always considered you a friend despite the fact that you avoided him most of the time. Maybe you owe him a small favor. 

“How long is the mission?” You ask as you avoid eye contact,

Steve smiles to himself, usually, by now you would have told him you were not interested and to leave you alone unless he has baked goods. 

“The first mission I have for you is only a week long. We will be working mostly remotely for the first few days as we plan, so you can stay here at the compound and work.” 

“Slow down there Cap, I’m only agreeing to help you out with one mission and there is no need for me to stay at the compound. I can easily go back and forth between my apartment and here.” 

"Of course, I promise it will be just this one mission then I won't ask you again." Steve says as his smile grows larger. 

“Alright, I’ll do it.” You immediately reject your decision.

Shortly after you leave the compound, Steve leaves his office to go to the kitchen and finds Bucky and Natasha searching through the cabinets.

Natasha looks up at Steves and smiles, “You seem cheery today, did you find another old man film to watch?” Natasha and Steve both chuckle.

“No, better actually. She finally agreed to join us for a mission.” Steve responds. Natasha seems both surprised and excited, while Bucky continues to search through the cabinets.

“The former SHIELD agent? I still don’t understand why you put so much effort into trying to recruit her in the first place. She clearly isn’t interested.” Bucky gruffs 

“First off Buck, she clearly is at least slightly interested now since she agreed to help us. Second, she is a very skilled agent and tech-savvy. She has found multiple Hydra agents and operations all on her own using technology she developed.” Steve says, looking at his friend while Bucky tries to ignore him. 

Bucky Barnes didn’t know this agent. Back when Steve and Natasha had worked with her, he was still stuck under Hydra’s control and was a puppet for them. He didn’t understand why his friend was so adamant about her skills and getting her to join the Avengers when she clearly likes working alone. Bucky could understand that though. He was still adjusting to being an “Avenger” after decades of being an assassin on his own. 

Natasha laughs to herself,  “She is a good person. We used to joke around a lot together during meetings, always making them less dull. I think you’ll get along with her, Barnes.” 

“I highly doubt it.” Bucky responds unamused.

A few days later, you got up much earlier than you usually did. Before, you were your own boss and created your own schedule. Now you have to get ready for an early morning Avengers meeting. It also didn't help that you would have to walk to the compound since you didn't have a car. While you could have taken Steve’s offer to stay at the compound for a week, you wanted to spend as much time away from the Avengers as possible, and getting up early to walk seemed like a necessary evil.

Eventually, you arrive at the compound early for the mission briefing. All you know about the mission so far is that you will be working mostly with Tony on tech for the mission. You are directed to a conference room that has a large table with only one person sitting there. 

Bucky is sitting at the table with a book in his hands. There is a little crease between his eyebrows and a slump to his shoulders as he stares intently at the book. 

As you enter the room he doesn’t look up his book. Part of you understands that he probably just wants to be left alone with his book, but the other part of you is arguing that now is the best time to introduce yourself. You didn't want your introduction to be too late and Bucky was one of the few Avengers you didn’t personally know.

You walk up to the seat next to him and grab the chair. “Can I sit here?” you ask him, trying to force a smile on your face.

“No.” He responds without looking at you.

“Who sits here usually?” you ask “If it's just Natasha or Clint, I’ll probably just sit here anyway.”

“I don’t like people sitting next to me, Agent.” He says as the tone of his voice gets slightly more annoyed. You haven’t been referred to as Agent for years, but at least now you realize that he knows who you are. 

You look at chairs on either side of him “Oh, so both of these chairs are available, so do you have a good side or-”

“Just leave me the fuck alone” He interrupts you before you can finish your thought.

You stare at Bucky and he never once looks back. You expected Bucky to be more reserved than the others, but you didn't expect him to be so insolent. 

"Fine" eventually, you walk away to the other side of the table and take a seat.

You grab your phone from your bag, trying to stare down at it instead of focusing on the man on the other side of the table. Bucky didn’t even try to fake a nice introduction as you did, he was just irritating. If you knew that you would be working with someone like him, you wouldn’t have agreed to the mission.

Eventually, after what feels like an eternity, but is really only a couple minutes, the rest of the team starts entering the conference room.

Natasha enters the room with Sam Wilson. She gives you a small smile and they both start walking towards you. 

“It’s good to see you again Agent, we are all excited to work with you.” Natasha says. You chuckle at that. Not everyone is excited to work with you apparently. You quickly glance towards Bucky. His lips are pressed together in a straight line, ignoring everyone who walks by him.

“So, how did he finally break you?” You look away from Bucky to see Sam smiling and laughing. You had only met Sam a few times before. Steve occasionally brought him to try to convince you to join them for a mission. 

Sam continues to say, “I mean, if my charming personality wasn’t enough to convince you to help us, I thought there was no hope.” You laugh at him. At least he will be enjoyable to work with. 

“I’m just helping with this one mission, then you guys are leaving me alone. Don’t worry though, your charming personality definitely helped convince me.” You respond sarcastically.

Natasha and Sam laugh as they sit down in the chairs on either side of you. 

Eventually Steve and Tony Stark enter the room together. Steve walks towards Bucky and for the first time Bucky looks up from his book. Steve holds out his hand and Bucky gives him the book. You notice the title of the book, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. Steve puts the book down on a table in the corner of the room and begins his presentation. 

“Thank you everyone for being here." Steve looks directly at you as he speaks. "We have reason to believe there is a Hydra operation here in New York. It seems small, but they are developing technologies for other operations. The mission will take around a week and will include-" 

"Basically we just need to develop a tech system to disarm all of their tech and hack into their security system for all intel we can find." Tony interrupts. 

"Thank you, Tony." Steve responds while rolling his eyes.

"Oh, you are so very welcome Capsicle. I'm always here to help." Tony laughs. "Anyways, the tech team will include myself, Banner, and the world's most stubborn agent." 

Everyone looks at you, including Bucky. Steve starts telling everyone about all of your achievements and skills. Bucky just stares at you and you glare right back. 

You realize that you never want to be back here again.

NEXT PART

Thanks for reading! :) 

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fic #mcu fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky flirting #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #bucky and alpine #winter solider fanfiction #winter solider #bucky barnes #bucky #mcu #marvel #bucky barnes imagine #marvel imagine #Just a Job fic #enemies to lovers #enemies to friends to lovers

[boldlyvoid]

Hypothetically | Chapter 16-20

summary: Reader and Spencer were friends in kindergarten, she watched him grow up and explore the world while she was still trying to catch up to him. now that they work together, they fall in love incredibly fast.

friends to lovers, case of the week style story

A/N: Set between seasons 4 and 6, not following canon. all original crimes based on real-life stories.

Warnings 18+: Murderers, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Blood, Guns, mentions of autopsy, Fluff, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, bed-sharing, Riding, Unprotected Sex, Virgin Reader, Case of the Week, original crimes, Food mention, Smut, Oral Sex, Light BDSM, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Talk, obgyn appointments and info, Home Invasion, Past Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Emotional Manipulation, Grooming, Pedophilia mention, non-con oral (male receiving), Pregnant Sex, Daddy Kink, Breeding Kink, Homophobia, conversion therapy

Word Count: 10k

chapter 16

It was 7 am when they got the call. Y/N had barely gotten any sleep that night, Spencer was adamant that laying on the left side helps maximize blood flow. Meaning she faced the wall all night with him happily cuddled into her back. She hated it.

Between peeing 100 times a day and the constant heartburn, she couldn’t really pick the worst part about creating a human.

It fuckin’ sucked and no one thought to warn her.

She dragged herself out of bed, trying her best to do her morning routine with only one eye open. Spencer, on the other hand, seemed to bounce out of bed like he slept 12 hours. Dancing around the kitchen as he poured his coffee and took a smoothie out of the fridge for Y/N.

He fed the cat, changed the litter and even took out the garbage by the time she pulled herself from the bathroom and to her closet.

Her jeans didn’t fit, she let herself take a minute to cry out of frustration in the closet before she looked for anything presentable. The only pants she could get into were a pair of leggings, and at that point, she didn’t care anymore. She was probably going to stay back with Penelope anyway.

She threw on an FBI sweater to hide her bump from the rest of her co-workers, grabbed the rest of her shit and followed Spencer to the car. Getting in the passenger seat and immediately closing her eyes again.

“Wake me up when we’re at Quantico,” she told him. Leaning against the window, ignoring the world.

Maternity parking was the only bonus, she only had to walk 4 feet from her car to the elevator. She felt lazy, but she was allowed to.

“Hopefully,” Spencer finally spoke to her as they entered the elevator. “At the end of this week, your energy should return as your placenta is done developing. You’re the most tired right now because your organs are working 3 times harder than they’re used to.”

“I’m tired because I had nothing to cuddle with all night, but thanks for the insight,” she tried her best to be cheery.

The door dinged, opening to the rest of the team standing in the entryway. “What’s up?” Y/N asked them.

“Hotch got a call, we’ve got a weird one coming in, he’s in his office talking to someone right now,” Morgan said. He looked just as tired as Y/N.

“Are we going in?” She asked, walking past them and towards the bullpen.

She rushed through the room and waddled up the stairs, searching for a chair before she actually passed out. Everyone followed her soon after, patting her back as they walked around the table to their seats.

“Over the past few months 6 feet have washed up on different beaches along the coast of Maine,” Penelope started explaining the case while Hotch was still on the phone in his office.

“6 feet belonging to 6 different people, all incredibly hard to identify. Interpol, Europol, the RCMP and the FBI have all been in communication with each other as no one knows where the feet washed in from. International Water laws prohibit just one of us from taking jurisdiction until we identify the nationality of the victims.”

“How are we going to Identify the feet?” Prentiss asked.

“We’re currently running the DNA against missing persons along the east coast as well as anyone who recently travelled to North America by boat, so far we don’t have any matches. We do know all 6 feet are white so hopefully, hopefully,” Garcia repeated for extra magic help, “this isn’t a refugee transport gone wrong.”

“We’ve been seeing an increase of boating accidents from Syrian refugees recently,” Spencer added. “The wars in the middle east are continuing to push people from their homes in mass numbers, meaning a lot of the boats are overpacked and capsize mid extraction.”

“So we’re probably looking at someone from North America who is using their own boat to sail out and release victims,” Y/N added. “Do we have the ME reports on the 6 feet?”

“Oh, yeah,” Garcia said, flipping through papers and handing them to her.

She read it over carefully, trying to see through her new blurred vision. Another wonderful pregnancy symptom. “Normally when feet wash up on shore, they’re in shoes. If a body is lost in a boating accident or drowning, the rubber soles will always want to float to the surface. When a body is decaying in water long enough the bones will separate, and when the ankle bone goes, the feet float to the surface,” Y/N explained.

“How do you just know that?” Rossi asked.

“In Nevada, we had a lot of drownings in a man-made lake, people would get stuck at the bottom on tree roots. And every year a few feet would wash up,” she added. “I only explained that because it says in the ME report that the feet were cut with a sharp blade, all clean cuts with no shoes or socks. So someone is cutting these bodies up and bringing them out to sea, probably to use as bait for a big catch.”

“It’s weird to me that the feet are the only parts washing up?” JJ’s face was absolutely puzzled as she flipped through the files.

“Not really,” Y/N argued, “I’m more concerned with why he’d even cut the feet, to begin with. With most shark attacks they go for full limbs, if I was the unsub and I was cutting the body up for bait, I wouldn’t make the pieces so small. There isn’t enough blood or flesh on feet to entice a large fish or shark to take it.”

Rossi was tapping his fingers against the table, “Do you think he wants us to find the feet?”

“I’m not sure, but it doesn’t look good.”

Then, Hotch finally walked in. “Which 3 of you want to travel to Maine to take a look at all the findings?” Prentiss, Morgan and Rossi raised their hands, “alright, meet me on the runway in 20. The rest of you, find a way to identify the feet.”

—

She sat at her desk most of the morning, munching on a bag of animal crackers to keep her nausea at bay. JJ brought her a cold ginger ale around 11, rubbing her back for a bit while she flipped through files.

She had a doctor’s appointment during lunch that day, so she headed downtown to give blood in the hour she was permitted. Knowing that she could be late and no one would really care.

She waited in Dr. Korrapati’s room patiently, looking at her arm as she rested it on the table. Her veins were more prominent now than they had ever been in her life. JJ insured her that they would go back down but it did make her a little self-conscious.

“Hey mama,” Dr. Korrapati cheered as she walked into the room. “How are we feeling?”

“Good, tired but good.”

“Work kicking your butt?” She asked as she prepped her arm for the blood draw. “Or just the baby?”

“Having a hard time finding a comfortable sleeping position, I’m probably going to get one of those long pillow things to help,” she rambled to take her mind off what was going on with her arm.

For someone who looked at dead bodies as her job, seeing her own blood freaked her out. Dr. Korrapati noticed she was a little stressed, “how about when I’m done here we take a look at your little person?”

That piqued her interest, she sat completely still and looked away as the nicest doctor she could’ve asked for, got the test over and done with, in record-breaking time.

“Do you have any other symptoms that are bothering you?” She asked as she wrote the exact tests down in her paperwork.

“Yeah,” she struggled with the sleeve of her shirt as she tucked her arm back in. “The nausea is driving me nuts, I’m living on animal crackers and ginger ale.”

“If you eat small meals every few hours it should settle it out,” she explained. “But if it is really bothering you we can give you some anti-nausea medication.”

“I tried that, everyone keeps bringing me snacks and trying to take care of me but I don’t want anything because I’m so tired,” she ranted as she climbed onto the exam table.

“Have you tried sleeping on the other side of the bed?” She asked.

“no, why?”

Dr. Korrapati laughed, “you sleep on the left side of the bed right?”

“Yeah?” She questioned, wondering how an OB could profile so well.

“So I'm assuming your smart and overprotective boyfriend has advised you to lay on your left side like he told JJ?” She smiled. “And because you sleep on the left side of the bed already, that means you’re not cuddled into him. He’s the big spoon now and you hate it.”

It was like a lightbulb went off in her head, “oh my god?”

They laughed at the fact it was so obvious and she never clued in. “It happens all the time, you’re so in a routine that you don’t realize you can just switch sides and it’ll work.”

“You’re so smart!”

“Ready to hear and see this baby of yours?” She asked, waiting for Y/N to raise her shirt and lower her leggings to expose her lower stomach.

“Can we?”

“Yep,” she nodded, “you’re in week 9, so you’re exiting the embryo stage and moving towards the fetal stage. We’ll be able to see the fetus and hear the heartbeat.”

“Can I record it for Spencer?” She asked, not wanting him to miss it.

“I’ll do you one better and put it on a disk for you.”

Just like that, she was smothering her stomach in warm jelly. Spreading it around with the ultrasound wand before she began to search for them. Pressing in slightly on her right side, she heard her own heartbeat whooshing. The closer she got to the centre, the more they heard the second.

Her baby’s heartbeat was strong. She saw them on the monitor, they had changed from being a jellybean to actually looking like a person. 4 strong limbs were stretching and moving, growing faster than she thought possible.

“That’s insane?” She was in such awe of it, “when will I feel the kicking and stuff?”

“In a few more months, they’re only the size of a green olive. You’ll probably feel it around Christmas?” She guessed. “You’ll be 16 weeks around then.”

“Wow okay,” she was just astounded by the magic of growing a child, she felt like absolute shit but it all made sense at that moment. In just a week, muscles and limbs formed and her baby grew the ability to self-soothe in the womb. Growing 10 fingers and toes that they already knew how to put in their mouth.

She cleaned the gel off Y/N’s stomach and began exporting the files for her. “So, I will call you when the results are in, and I can just email you guys a copy and go over it with you on the phone when you’re free? I know your job is unpredictable?”

“That would be perfect, thank you. We’re working on an international case right now so for all I know I’ll be in Ireland next week,” She laughed.

“Of course, take care of yourself make sure you’re taking all the vitamins and having 8 cups of clear fluids a day, you have to stay hydrated.” Dr. Korrapati handed her the disk in a sleeve as well as her contact card.

“Yes ma’am, I can’t wait to hear from you,” she smiled before leaving the office.

—

Y/N walked back into the BAU around 1:15, wandering down the hall to Penelope’s office to get a rundown of what she missed.

Spencer and JJ had the same idea, all turning towards the door as Y/N walked in, “hey.”

“How was it?” Spencer asked softly, beckoning her to his lap.

She sat down on him softly, “I got a DVD copy of the ultrasound.” She waved the disk around. “But, we can’t watch it until I get a rundown on what we know so far.”

“I hate how professional you are sometimes,” Penelope huffed. “Luckily, it is very important.”

“We matched a tattoo on one of the feet to a missing person’s case in Nova Scotia. So we focused our efforts on missing person’s cases who fit the same features and backgrounds as her,” JJ explained.

“Okay cool, who was she?”

“Andrea Carlton, 18. She was hitchhiking, apparently wanting to run away to meet her boyfriend in Newfoundland. I traced her transactions before she disappeared and it looks like she bought a ferry ticket, however, there are no reports of her ever getting on it,” Penelope added. “So I’ve looked into other people from Nova Scotia, Prince Edward Island, New Brunswick and Newfoundland, who went missing hitchhiking or after booking a ferry ticket.”

“Smart, how many matches did we get?”

“5,” She laughed.

“You’re kidding?”

They all shook their heads, “nope. And we were able to match all the feet to them.”

Y/N handed the ultrasound video over to Penelope. “Your reward.”

She snatched it from her hands so fast, taking it out of the packaging and shoving it in her CD port. Loading the file within seconds.

She watched Spencer’s face the whole time. Already having seen the footage herself, knowing the real show would be his reaction.

He was so mesmerized, his eyes blown up in awe as tears welled. His grip on her leg was more intense, he was squeezing along to the beat of the baby’s heart, absentmindedly. He shook his head in disbelief, that was his baby in there.

The phone rang before they could really talk about it, Hotch requesting the team hop on a plane and meet them in Nova Scotia. The RCMP and the FBI have taken sole jurisdiction over the case.

Y/N was able to convince him that it would be best if they get some sleep before they go. He agreed, telling them he expected to see them in Canada at 10 am sharp.

“Before we go home tonight can you cross-reference freelance charter boats or fishermen in the area the day each victim missed a ferry? Someone desperate to get a ride might be willing to hop in a boat with anyone going where they are,” Y/N suggested to Garcia.

“I’ll run it in the background, you two go home and get some rest so my god-baby can get big and strong!” She hugged her lightly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Y/N and Spencer didn’t need to be told twice, practically running to their car. She let out the deepest sigh ever once she had her seatbelt on, so excited to go home.

Spencer drove them home, getting used to it as she got more pregnant. Soon she’d be too big to drive at all let alone stay awake the whole time.

“How are you feeling?” Spencer asked as they cleared the security check.

“Good, Dr. Korrapati is going to email us the results when they’re in and go over them with us on the phone. I told her we’d probably end up going out of the country soon,” Y/N recalled the day.

“The ultrasound was so cool,” he gushed.

“Yeah,” She smiled. Reaching to hold his hand on the centre console. “She also suggested we switch sides of the bed so that we can still cuddle while I’m on my left side.”

“She’s a genius.”

“that’s what I said!” She laughed, “literally how dumb are we?”

“187 till I become a dad and then I’m an idiot,” he smiled back at her quickly. “I’m glad you had a good day. Now we can go eat and get a full night’s rest.”

She let out another deep breath, “I can’t wait to cuddle.”

—

Garcia was waiting for them at the elevator the next morning. “Patrick Timmins.”

“Who?” Y/N asked, fully awake and ready to go, just confused by the ambush.

“I ran the perimeters that you asked for and I found a freelance fisherman slash charter service run by a guy named Patrick Timmins,” Garcia explained. “The townspeople call him Patty Tims, they think he’s fine and lovely according to his Yelp page but his criminal record tells a different story.”

“Really? I thought that was such a long shot!” Y/N was cheery from the extra sleep she got with Dr. Korrapati’s advice.

“The plane is ready when you guys are, I have all the updated info in this as well as some snacks for the plane,” she handed Spencer a cloth bag.

“What would I do without you? My pretty penny,” she kissed her friend on the cheek.

“If it means I get some sugar from you, I’ll do anything,” Garcia flirted with her in the absence of Morgan. “Go get on your plane, I will see you when you return my loves.”

They landed in Nova Scotia around 10 am like Hotch had requested. Bypassing customs and driving directly to the RCMP headquarters. They needed to come up with a plan, they had no idea how to find a man who travels by boat and lives at sea.

“We could always send undercover’s out in the areas he’s picked up before, have them dress as hitchhikers, miss the ferries and wait and see who tries to pick you up. Everyone will have a team watching and police boats on standby?” Morgan was theorizing as Spencer, Y/N and JJ walked in.

“We have report’s that he’s in the bay, if we’re going to do this we need to do it now,” An RCMP officer she hadn’t met yet announced to the room. “Who here is comfortable posing as a vic?”

JJ raised her hand, “get me some dirty clothes and I can be ready in 5.”

They raided the lost and found, they filled a backpack with random things and tried their best to dirty her fingernails and hair. She looked like she had been travelling without a proper place to stay for a while.

They managed to hide a wire on her, prepping what she was going to say if she was in danger and they needed to move in. Hiding a gun and a knife in her socks in case she needed them later.

They drove her down to the bay dropping her off 1 kilometre away, letting her walk into town while they parked closer to watch with binoculars. They planned it for her to arrive as the ferry pulled out of the bay.

She ran down the dock, trying to catch the ferry. Putting on the best performance of: “fuck, I missed the boat!” That they had ever seen.

“She’s going to win an Oscar,” Morgan whispered in the back of the surveillance van, trying to make Y/N laugh.

“Excuse me, ma’am?” They heard over the wire, trying to identify the source of the voice. The man was standing on his boat, hanging over the edge to get JJ’s attention.

“I missed the ferry, do you know when it’ll be back?” She played dumb. “I promised my mom I’d be back tonight and now I won’t be.”

“I can give you a ride, for a price,” the man suggested. “Names, Patty Tims.”

Hotch turned around from the front seat and motioned for Y/N and Morgan to head out quietly without making a scene. Listening in their headsets as JJ replied. “How much?”

They hid around the corner of the ticket booth, watching as the undercover officers walked around the civilians.

“Just a simple photo, I like to put a face to the stories I run across. Come on up,” he motioned for her to get on the boat.

She walked closer to him, “I don’t know sir, I should probably wait for the ferry.” She smiled.

“No,” he ground his teeth together and clenched his jaw, reaching for her.

She grabbed his arm and flipped him, getting into the boat and pushing him to the ground. She cuffed him by the time Morgan and Y/N could board. “What the fuck is this?” He struggled in her grasp.

“You’re under arrest for the murder of 6 people,” JJ replied, about to tell him his rights.

“Only 6?” He laughed.

JJ shoved him into the floor harder, reading him his rights before lifting him to his feet and shoving him off the boat and into RCMP custody.

Y/N lifted her hand up to high five JJ, pulling her into a half hug as they walked back to the surveillance van.

She never had a sister before, JJ was probably the only woman in her life that she felt this close to. It was mostly to do with the fact she’s always been so wonderful to Spencer. She helped him feel loved before Y/N, and that was important to her.

“Can we search the boat? Or are we still waiting on the warrant?” Y/N just wanted to check with Hotch before she barged onto the boat. Not wanting to jeopardize what they’re allowed to enter into evidence.

“We got it, you can start looking,” Hotch said, handing her a pair of gloves and a handful of evidence bags.

JJ went with her. They walked in together, noticing that he wasn’t lying about wanting a photo to go with the story. Below the deck, the entire wall was filled with Polaroids of terrified people moments before their deaths.

They bagged them all into evidence, dreading having to put them all into the system and match them to missing person’s reports. Delivering the news that someone’s loved one was gone for good was never fun.

Telling 58 families that their loved one was dead was a nightmare.

chapter 17

She’s a little confused when she wakes up to the sound of geese honking. Rolling away from Spencer’s embrace and immediately being blinded by the sunlight in the room. She sat up in a small panic.

She had forgotten that they stayed the night at the new house.

The large windows in the bedroom faced the water. She could see the sun’s reflection on the lake as it stretched over the house from the east. It was absolutely stunning. She could get used to waking up early with a screaming baby if this was the view.

Then she remembered it was the day they got their test results, she bounced a little as she reached for her phone to check her messages.

“Morning bunny,” Spencer’s groggy morning voice startled her a little.

“Bunny?” She questioned, never hearing him call her any form of nickname before.

He reached out of her, wrapping his arms around her growing belly, resting his head in her lap. “Have you ever noticed you hop a little bit when you get excited?”

“Yeah, it’s called Asperger’s,” she smiled as she ran her fingers through his hair. “It’s honestly better than bugs bunny though, just don’t throw carrots at me okay?” She laughed to herself as she recalled the childhood trauma.

It was a little funny, looking back now.

“Never, you’re my bunny. I love my bunny.”

He was so soft in the mornings. Snuggling in against her skin as he slowly woke up. He stretched and yawned a bit, making the cutest little sounds as he did so.

She kept her fingers in his hair, twirling the ends every once and a while. Mostly running her nails along his scalp, soothing that big beautiful brain of his that she loved so much.

“We find out what the sex is today,” she reminded him.

He lifted up her shirt to expose her belly. Kissing the skin as she laid back against the pillows.

“What’s going on in there today?” She asked softly.

“They’re the size of a prune,” he mused. “speaking of, as you enter the fetus stage this week you’re going to get constipated.”

She couldn’t help but laugh, “thanks that’s exactly what I wanted to know!”

“Right now the fetal development is focusing primarily on the bones, tummy and teeth,” he explained with the largest smile on his face.

“There we go.”

He hovered over her, brushing the hair from her face so he could look at her, “You look so beautiful right now.”

He said that as if he wasn’t blocking the sun from her view, perfectly casting a halo glow around him. She placed her hand on his cheek, “I love you.”

He leaned in and kissed her, pressing his body softly against her’s. “I love you,” he whispered between kisses. Covering her face and neck with small pecks, making her laugh as he covered her body in kisses.

The phone rang on Spencer’s night table causing him to press his forehead against her hip, letting out a deep sigh. Y/N reached over and picked it up. “Doctor Spencer Reid’s phone,” she answered. “He can't come to the phone right now, can I take a message?”

“Funny,” Penelope replied.

“We have a case,” Morgan added.

“What time do we need to be on the plane by?” She asked.

“Uh, it’s 7:46 now, so you’ve got an hour, tops?” Penelope guessed, “why?”

“I said he was busy. I’ll see you later.” She hung up.

“You did not just do that?” He looked absolutely horrified, his whole face turning pink.

“They could either think you got some, or you could actually get some?” She teased. “We have an hour.”

—

“All 3 Vic’s had been strangled and raped before they were wrapped in plastic and released into the river,” Garcia explained to the team over the laptop as they travelled through the sky. “Washing away all of the unsub’s DNA, however, they did find carpet fragments under the victim’s finger-“

“Like the ’84 Oklahoma Child Murders,” Y/N cut her off.

“What?” Garcia asked.

“Oklahoma 1981 to 1984. Local black children between the age of approximately 6 and 17 were being abducted, raped and murdered. Their bodies were mostly discovered in wooded areas and along the edges of the river, never submerged. The BAU worked the case, only ever being able to solve the last 2 murders before the Oklahoma governor, I think, kicked you off the case, right? They cared more about the money going towards the investigation than the black children going missing,” She explained.

“Gideon and I tried,” Rossi said. Still very bothered by the ending. “We wanted to catch the guy, the last 2 murders were so different from the others and yet the local cops considered it the same guy. Much like this new unsub, he raped young men before strangling them and dropping them in the river. All the way down to the carpet fibres.”

“It ended up being a local man named Oscar Pope, they caught him dumping an older male victim at a police checkpoint. They matched carpet fibres at his house to the 2 rivers Vic’s, but none of the children,” Prentiss cut in. “This has to be a copycat right?”

“We don’t know that,” Y/N added. “The BAU was working the angle that a local boy who knew the majority of the victims was in on it. Um, Daryl Livingston, he was in foster care at the time. He was the 7th boy to go missing and then every one of his friends was found dead after that. However, his body was never found. They suspected that he formed a bond with his captor and offered to bring him, other boys, if he let him live.”

“Any chance that this unsub could be the same kid, using Pope’s tactic to get our attention back on him?” Morgan asked.

“I was about to say that too,” JJ cut in. “they might’ve even been a team back then as well. That would explain why the murders stopped when Pope was caught but they still never found that boy.”

“That’s possible. They concluded that the last victim Pope dropped into the river was a long-time, secret boyfriend of his who found out what he was doing to the children. His MO changed when he didn’t want people to tie the murders together,” Spencer provided the extra information. “Only backfiring when local cops patrolling the river heard a splash.”

“Garcia, can you see if any of the Vic’s have any relation, contact or even geographical coincidences with the original murders?” Rossi asked. “If this is a victim continuing Pope’s work we need to find out who knew him.”

“Sir, Oscar Pope is still alive in a local correctional facility,” Garcia added. “I’m going to run background checks on all contact he’s had in his entirety at the prison, it might take a while but I’ll get it.”

“Garcia, I can go to the facility and just read everything they have there. It might not be all digital yet,” Reid offered.

“Good idea, take Y/N with you. You two bounce ideas off each other better than the rest of us,” Hotch agreed. “Morgan and Rossi join the search teams at the rivers. JJ and Prentiss, we’ll set up communication with the locals and go through old case files.”

“Reid’s good at bouncing somethin’ off her, alright,” Morgan teased him. “You were on speaker this morning.”

Spencer turned bright red once again, burying his face into the table as everyone laughed, reaching across the aisle to give Y/N high fives.

—

Being in a prison was always weird for her.

Having to hand in her gun just to read papers in a dusty office made her uncomfortable. She understood the protocol and she knew the guards would keep them safe, but knowing she was near men she helped put away, that scared her slightly.

“I’m not finding anything,” Spencer sighed. “There was a flood 2 years ago that destroyed most of the files near the ground. Including the Pope documents.”

“We can always just go ask him?” Y/N suggested, “he’s in D cell, he’s behind bars. We can just talk to him from the hallway unofficially. Pretend we’re here for someone else. I’ll say I never thought he really did those murders and gain his trust, see what happens.”

“I don’t like it but, I think we have to,” he agreed. Opening the office door for her to lead the way, “after you.”

Spencer felt very protective, she could tell. He was never pushy or controlling with her, but for some reason, he was now manhandling her. Making sure she walked on the inside of the hallways, closer to the brick walls so that no one could get her through the bars.

“So Doctor Reid,” she picked up the conversation as they hit the D block. “I was reading the book you lent me about engineering.”

“Oh,” he tried to play along. “How did you like it?”

“It was good,” she replied while trying to look at each inmate she passed. “I loved page 187— oh my gosh?” She stopped at Pope’s cell.

“You’re Oscar Pope?” She pointed at him.

“and you’re?” The old man questioned her. “A fed?”

“We’re here for something political, nothing to concern yourself with,” she lied, getting closer to the bars, whispering. “I just want you to know I never thought you did all 16 of the child murders back in the day.”

“Thank you,” he was suddenly enthusiastic. “Now why can’t all the fed’s be as smart as you?”

She laughed, tapping his arm through the bars. “How are you doing? Is there anything I can get you while I’m here?”

“Phone privileges!” He answered quickly, “the mail’s taking forever and I’ve got people to talk to before I croak in here.”

“I’m sure you do sir,” she smiled at him. “I’ll pull some strings, you have a good day!”

“You too, beautiful!”

Spencer placed his hand on her hip and led her away from the bars, she waved as they walked away.

“Agent Y/L/N,” a voice stopped her at the end of the hall.

She turned to see a man sitting cross-legged on the cell floor. His orange jumpsuit gathered around his waist as he sat in an undershirt. She glanced over his body, stopping at his face. She’d know those eyes anywhere.

“Didn’t I say only good boys get to talk to me, Bitch?” She snapped at him.

“Congratulations on the little one.” He replied. Laughing as Spencer placed his hand over her small stomach and led her out of the room, through the big metal doors.

“Keep walking with me,” Spencer insisted. “Or I will turn around and I will kill him.”

She huffed and continued down a narrow hallway with him. “We need to call Hotch.”

“Yeah,” he flipped his phone open and hit the speed dial.

“Reid?” She heard Hotch answer.

“We couldn’t get any of his information from forms, they all had water damage so Y/N and I walked past Pope’s cell and struck up a conversation,” He explained.

“And?”

“She got on his good side, pretending that she could get him a favour while she’s here for political reasons. He said he’s desperate to make a phone call today.”

“I’m on my way, get Garcia to prep paperwork to allow us a meeting with him now,” Hotch instructed, hanging up.

Y/N dialled Garcia on her phone. “How’s it going love birds?”

“Not good,” she replied. “We need you to get the paperwork going to allow us to sit down with Oscar Pope today. And we’re going to need to tear through his cell.”

“Oh, damn okay,” She replied. “Ask him about Cody Kollins.”

“Who?” Spencer asked as his phone rang again. He flipped it open, “we’ve got Garcia here too.” Putting it on speaker.

“Morgan and Rossi just intercepted a man dropping a body in the river,” Hotch confirmed. “I need you to rush that paperwork.”

“Sir, what was the man’s name?” Garcia asked.

“Cody Kollins.”

They sighed at each other, “let’s do this.”

—

Y/N watched him through the mirror. She could see him fidgeting. He was frustrated. He was exhibiting the exact same behaviour as he was when he was caught the first time.

“Every time we one-up him, he breaks down,” she whispered to Spencer. “Even in his interrogation tapes, he was like this. When they found the single patch of carpet left in his closet and were able to match the fibres, he lost it. He likes to play it cool and under control, he wrote the story and he wants us to stick to it.”

“How upset do you think he’d be if we went in there and told him we actually caught the original killer and he’s going to be released pending DNA testing?” Spencer suggested.

She tilted her head, biting her lip as she thought. “I think he’d be violent.”

“Sit here,” he said as he walked into the interview room.

She hated having to just watch. It helped that Pope was cuffed to the table, and the table was drilled into the concrete floor, Spencer wouldn’t get hurt. The guards are right behind the door. It’s fine.

“Sorry for the abrupt interrogation, I promise this isn’t what you think,” Spencer smiled softly. “We have reason to believe that the original killer has returned, the state is running the DNA now.”

Y/N watched as Pope’s right eye started to twitch, his finger on his leg was tapping at an odd rhythm as Spencer talked.

“The second we can prove you had no hand in any of the killing’s we’ll issue a pardon and your discharge papers will be filled out,” Spencer finished his sentence and moved to open the door once more.

“You’re a fuckin’ idiot,” he hissed. His voice was completely different than it was when they were speaking in D block.

“Why?” Spencer asked, easily playing the innocent and stupid role.

“You think some crazy-obsessed, fuck toy of mine whose doing half-assed attempts at my signature, is the real killer!!!” Pope spat his confession out. Literally covering the table in spit as he became more feral. Shaking violently.

Spencer walked right out of the room. Y/N watched as Pope smacked the table, tugging violently at the cuffs, scratching himself all up. The guards had to run in and hold him down, shooting a sedative into his neck.

“Jesus,” she whispered. Taking her phone out of her pocket to call Garcia, when she noticed the voicemail notification in the bottom corner. She ignored it, calling her friend instead.

“Hey,” Penelope answered quickly. “So turns out we were right, who would have thought, Cody Kollins is actually Daryl Livingston.”

“We just got a confession from Pope,” Y/N shared her news. “They had to sedate him so we’re going to come back to the station. Wait until tomorrow to interview him again.”

“Yeah, sounds good, Hotch and Morgan are in with Livingston right now,” she updated them. “Make sure to eat something when you get there.”

“Yes mom,” she teased, hanging up and smiling.

Spencer put his hand out in an invitation to hold it. She interlocked their fingers and followed him back to the filing room, gathering their things before exiting the prison.

She sat on the passenger side of the SUV, she and Spencer just sat there and took a few deep breaths. Processing everything the exact same way, quietly and on their own.

She cut the awkward silencer by taking out her phone and playing the voicemail. Putting it on speaker.

“Hi Y/N, this is Doctor Korrapati calling. I’ve emailed you your results. The gender is at the bottom, under the little read more button, in case you wanted it to be a surprise. Call the office and let us know when you’re free to go over the results and we’ll book you in, as far as I can tell everything looks good, so don’t feel the need to rush. Take care!”

Spencer looked over at her with a soft smile on his face, reaching out for her hand once more. Holding her hand with both of his now, “do you want to do this?”

“I’m ready if you are?”

He nodded, watching her contently as she opened her email up, finding the right one and scrolling to the bottom. Her heart fluttered a little as she looked at the read more option.

She took a deep breath and clicked on it.

Chromosomal sex: XY

“Well?” Spencer asked softly.

“I’d really love to tell you,” she bit her lip trying not to laugh, “but I don’t remember what this means?”

He laughed, shaking his head as he looked at the screen. He blinked with glossy eyes as he read it, a light chuckle escaping his lips as he cried softly.

It had to be a girl, she knew he wanted one. She convinced herself in that millisecond that it was a girl.

He reached over and placed his hand flat against her belly. “Hi Matthew,” he said softly.

“You’re kidding?” She couldn’t stop herself from crying.

Spencer wrapped her up in a hug, the two of them happily crying into each other. She wasn’t sure if she was giggling or sobbing, she just knew she was shaking in Spencer’s arms with happiness that this was her little family.

He kissed all over her one cheek as he held her close. “I love you so much,” he reminded her.

She pulled back, wiping her tears off on her shirt sleeve, laughing at the serendipity of it all. “I love you too, dad.”

“I have to drive, don’t make me cry again,” he laughed, wiping his own tears before tucking his ever-growing hair behind his ears.

“Let’s go.”

—

Y/N sat beside JJ in the break room of the police station, salad bowl in her lap, shovelling the dressing-covered leaves in her mouth.

They weren’t tasked with anything until Hotch and Morgan attempted to get some info out of the unsub. “Were you crying earlier?” She asked.

“A little,” Y/N smiled at her. “We’re having a boy,” she whispered.

“Oh my god!” JJ whispered back at her, reaching out for her arm and shaking her a little. “I have a feeling your little guy will be bigger than Henry was so he’ll fit into all Henry’s summer stuff when he’s born!”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah!” She confirmed. “By the time he grows out of everything I might have a second boy and we can rotate it around again,” she laughed. “This is going to be so fun.”

“Matthew and Henry are going to be best friends,” Y/N smiled.

“Matthew,” she repeated. “That’s a nice name, I like it.”

“My brother’s name is Levi, I thought it was a nice way to keep a family name in my baby’s life, and his middle name is going to be Gideon,” she spoiled it for Spencer.

JJ looked a little emotional, “sorry it’s just so surreal thinking about me and Spencer having kids who are friends.”

Y/N moved her dinner out of the way and hugged her then, holding her tightly. “You better not be pregnant too,” she whispered in her ear. Not wanting to give it away if she was.

JJ just laughed, rocking Y/N back and forth in her embrace, not answering. “Right?” Y/N asked again.

“We’re trying, so who knows,” JJ replied.

“Shut up?” Y/N pulled back and stared into her eyes to see if she was telling the truth or not. “Holy shit? Since when?”

“Honestly, I think the night we celebrated Canadian thanksgiving,” she laughed. “You and Spencer got us talking about babies, and you got Henry to sleep through the night, so this is technically your fault.”

“JJ,” Y/N started to cry, “I’m so happy for you.”

“They’ll only be a few months apart, so they’ll be best friends too,” JJ smiled. “This is going to be really fun.”

chapter 18

For Christmas this year, Y/N just wanted to be fully moved into their new home before they had to leave for Vegas. Spencer followed through with the present. Inviting the entire team over for drinks if they promised to stop by Y/N’s apartment and bring a few boxes to the new house. It was basically just free labour.

She spent the night nesting while her friends drank in her kitchen. They understood why she was nervous, she was going to tell her parents about the baby and the engagement, and the house, in 3 days.

It was all going to be a lot.

She was 16 weeks along as of Christmas Eve. Waking up the morning of their flight to a weird twitching sensation in her gut, like butterflies or a muscle twitch but right where the baby would be.

“Spence,” she shook him awake. “Spencer.”

“What’s wrong?” He sat right up, squinting at her as he tried to figure out what was going on.

“It’s like, I don’t know how to explain it?” She worried.

Spencer placed his hand on her belly feeling the slight flitter. “He’s kicking.”

Spencer’s early morning smile was the best, he tackled her back against the pillow and dug his face into the crook of her neck. “That’s my baby in there.”

“I wouldn’t have known,” she laughed, wrapping her arms and legs around him. “We have to go to the airport soon.”

“I know,” he mumbled into her neck.

“If you get up now, we can go get breakfast before we have to board?” She enticed him, “we can get sprinkle donuts for the flight.”

“Okay,” he said as she freed him from her grip. “Are you nervous?”

“I know they’ll be happy, just not ready for them to ask why I didn’t say anything sooner,” She explained. “I’ve been really distant since I got the job, I’m really excited to spend time with them this weekend.”

“Same,” Spencer smiled. “Come on you two.”

They took a 9 am flight one-way to Las Vegas. Y/N slept most of the ride, spending the last 45 minutes just snuggled into Spencer’s shoulder as he watched a documentary on some form of science or math. She couldn’t hear what it was about, all she saw was a man writing out numbers on a chalkboard.

She ran her hand over her belly lightly. There was no way she could walk into her mother’s house in a few minutes and just pretend it wasn’t there. It was there. So were the 5 pounds of baby weight on her hips and the swelling in her face and knuckles.

She was pretty quiet during landing and baggage claim. Thinking in her head what she was going to say to everyone, how she would explain it. She sat in a cab beside Spencer, absentmindedly following him through the airport they’ve both been through at least 20 times.

It was a short trip to her parent’s house. Spencer traced little shapes into her leg with his finger to distract her. A flower, a 4D cube, the words I love you. It was sweet, non verbal comfort was very important to her.

When they arrived, she stayed in the cab to pay while Spencer got their bags out. Taking as long as possible so she could avoid it a little longer.

Biting the bullet, she took a deep breath and walked out into her parent’s front yard. Taking the handle of her suitcase and dragging it up the walkway.

She walked right into her house, her parents and brothers all standing up from the living room and rushing into the entryway. She was wrapped up in 7 hugs within a matter of seconds.

“You look so different,” her mom said as she pulled back from her hug. Holding her arms as she examined her, “what did you do?”

“I got pregnant,” she replied, scrunching her face as she waited for their response.

She could’ve sworn she went deaf at that moment, reaching down to cover her bump as everyone cheered and jumped around her. She was pulled into a group hug before she could process anything. Laughing awkwardly at the whole experience.

“Be quiet, he can hear this week!” She laughed.

“He?” Her father inquired.

She looked back at Spencer, smiling at him. “It’s a boy,” Spencer confirmed.

“Holy shit!” Her brothers cheered, high-fiving each other. “When are you due?” Harrison asked.

“June,” she smiled. “3 days after mom’s birthday, see I do remember it.”

“Come sit,” her mom insisted, pushing everyone out of the way and dragging her to the couch. “Put your feet up, how are you feeling?”

“I’m fine,” Y/N insisted. “You’re almost worse than my co-workers.”

“Are they taking good care of you?” Her father asked.

She waited for Spencer to join her on the couch, they had all been so excited about her they forgot he was there. “Yeah. Um, we have a lot to tell you,” She explained, holding Spencer’s hand for comfort.

“I asked Y/N to marry me,” Spencer announced. “I am so in love with her, this baby is a dream come true and I’m very excited to become a part of your family.”

Her mom cried, tossing her hand over her eyes as she sobbed. “Mom,” she was so overwhelmed with everything she started to cry too.

“You’re a wonderful man Spencer,” her father interjected. “It’s an honour to have you.”

Spencer smiled and nodded towards him, silently thanking him for the approval.

“So, it’s kind of insane how it all happened. It wasn’t intended, but we love him so much already,” Y/N glowed as she spoke. “Are we going to tell people the name yet?”

Spencer nodded, “we can.” He smiled down at her with such wonderment, the moment she had been scared of for 16 weeks turning out to be the best time she’s had with her whole family in one room.

“His name is Matthew Gideon Reid,” Y/N smiled. “After my favourite brother, no offence Harry, and Spencer’s mentor.”

Levi was her more emotional brother. He was her best friend growing up. The 5 year age difference gave them the time to grow up separately but still find common interests to bring them together. They were the closest in the family before she moved to Virginia full time it became hard to keep up with him as much.

Now they were both parents, their kids only having a 3 year age difference. Meaning next year there would be 2 little ones at Christmas.

“That’s a lovely name,” Levi smiled. “Thank you.”

“It’s whatever, don’t expect our kids to have your name either,” Harrison replied as he held his wife close, pretending he was a little offended.

“We also got a house,” she added to change the topic, “Jason Gideon, he kinda gave us his place in Virginia.”

“You’re kidding me?” Debbie gasped. “For free?”

She laughed, “it’s complicated.”

“I grew up without a father, and Gideon neglected his son for his work at the BAU,” Spencer chimed in. “We bonded, and he wanted his house to be used for good. He specifically asked for us to fill it with love and laughter. We’ve just finished moving into it. You can visit any time!” He panicked and rambled by the end.

“I don’t know if you know this,” her mom tried to joke with them. “But there’s this thing called a phone, where you can call your mother and tell her these things.”

“I wanted to!” she hurried the words out. “But I’m still working in the field, I was weary with who really knew besides the team. It’s my only weakness on the job.”

“I get it,” Debbie smiled. “Honestly, I’m so happy for you both.”

“Thanks, mom,” Y/N choked back tears. “Sorry,” she laughed. “Pregnant things, y’know.”

—

Visiting hours at the nursing home changed during the holidays. Spencer and Y/N were permitted to enter anytime between 8 am and 10 pm, giving them lots of time to spend the afternoon with Y/N’s parents before visiting her.

They borrowed her dad’s truck, driving to the nursing home with a special gift for Diana. Spencer had spent the last 2 weeks making a scrapbook page about Matthew for her, he knew how much her book meant to her and he wanted to add to it.

Her mom’s co-workers all stared at them as they walked in hand in hand. Her bump on show under the T-Shirt she chose to wear.

Diana was in her room, then walked down the long hallway to her suite. Knocking lightly on the door, waiting for her to greet them.

The door swung open, “Spencer!” She cheered. Hugging him tight in her arms.

“Hi mom,” he held her just as tight. Knowing he was a mama’s boy always made Y/N’s heart flutter.

She pulled back and looked at Y/N, “you look so nice!”

“Thank you,” she smiled. Stepping in close to give her a hug as well.

Diana welcomed them into her room, closing the door behind them. Y/N took a seat on the couch while Spencer looked around at the new things she had on display.

“I made you something,” he said softly, taking off his bag and pulling the pressed cardboard out of the protective sleeve. “here.”

She held it in her hands, looking at the ultrasound photo they got a few weeks ago at the anatomy scan. “What is this Spencer?”

“You’re going to be a grandmother,” he explained. Watching her run her fingers over the words on the paper. She was in shock, she had nothing to say. She just looked at the photo.

She quietly walked over to Y/N and sat beside her, “may I?” She asked, holding her hand up.

Y/N leaned back a little, “absolutely.”

Diana placed her hand on the bump lightly. “I was so worried I wouldn’t get to really experience this one day,” she whispered. Trying her best not to cry. “Thank you.”

Y/N cried, not realizing how special this must be for them. She was so focused on her family that she forgot that this was going to change Diana’s whole world. She now had 2 boys to love unconditionally.

“His name is Matthew?” Diana asked, running her hand over the bump softly.

“Yeah,” Y/N smiled. “He’s due in June. If you can, you can fly out and stay with us for a little?”

“I’d love to,” Diana replied. “I have enough points for a trip, and I’ve been feeling really good on my medication.”

“If your doctors clear it all, Debbie and you can fly in together,” Spencer confirmed.

“Wow,” Diana smiled like Spencer. Wide thin lips, straight white teeth, big rosy cheeks and glistening eyes. She hoped Matthew inherited it too. “This is my best Christmas yet.”

—

Y/N woke up Christmas morning with Spencer cuddled into her side in her childhood bedroom. She slipped out of his grasp and sat in her windowsill instead.

She pulled her knees to her chest as best as she could now that she was pregnant, looking at the lone swing across the street that swayed in the December morning breeze.

It should be 8 am back at Quantico, her parents must have let them sleep in while they opened presents. She could see Chloe in the front yard trying out her new car. Levi smiled as he pushed her down the road, Lizzie filming the whole thing on her phone.

Her whole life was so different from the last time she really sat on the windowsill in her bedroom. Back then she was about to move to Virginia, graduating college in Nevada and getting into the training program at the academy. Harrison was already there at Fort Meade, she was about to move into his house with his wife for the first semester before settling into DC. Levi and Lizzie had just started dating, Chloe wasn’t even conceived yet. And she had no idea when she’d run into Spencer.

She rubbed her hand over her belly as a tear rolled down her cheek. She couldn’t wait for the day that she was pushing her own child on that swing across the street. The day she and Spencer tell him about the love story that bubbled between two kids with books who looked at each other for years before they fell in love.

“What are you doing?” Spencer asked, removing her from the moment she allowed herself to have.

She wiped the tear from her cheek, “they’re happy tears. Go back to sleep.”

“Come cuddle?” He pouted, his big puppy dog eyes drawing her back to the bed.

She snuggled into him, running her fingers against his bare chest as she watched him breathe. “Can I tell you something?”

“Always,” he kissed the top of her head.

“When I was 17, I had my appendix out.” She rolled over and laid back, showing him the 3-inch scar on the right side of her stomach. “It was pretty bad, they said I would have died if my mom waited 15 more minutes to get me to the hospital. They had to fix parts of my stomach and intestines that were eaten by the ruptured appendix bile.”

“I had no idea,” he whispered, running his finger along the scar. “I always thought that was just a scratch.”

She shook her head lightly. “It was December 5th, ’98. They uh,” she took a deep breath before resuming. “They put me on a drug called Dilaudid, they told my mom it was a non-addictive version of morphine and that I’d be fine but, I kinda got addicted to the pill version when they let me out,” she scrunched her face as she told him. Not wanting his opinion of her to change.

“You’re kidding?” He asked, a chuckle fell past his lips as he sat up. “In my second year at the BAU I was kidnapped by a man with dissociative identity disorder and he drugged me.”

“Dilaudid?” She asked, sitting up too and shaking her head in disbelief.

He laughed at how absurd it was, “yeah.”

“I moved to Benadryl for the sleepy and calm effect after I couldn’t get any more refills and didn’t want to admit I had a problem, and weed in college” she added. “but I haven’t even taken a Tylenol in the last 5 years now.”

“I had a small problem with it after everything, but I’m also clean now,” Spencer smiled at her. “Why did you want me to know?”

“Because I don’t want to take any drugs when I deliver the baby, even if I beg for them I don’t want them to give in. I talked to Dr. Korrapati about it but I wanted you to know too,” she explained. “Being in here all night got me thinking about a lot.”

He wrapped his arms around her and tackled her back against the pillows. “I love you,” was all he said.

“I love you too?”

“Seriously,” his voice was so soft and low. “I’ll never stop.”

chapter 19

She woke up to the feeling of hair tickling her face. She swatted at her face to try and get it to stop before opening her eyes. She blinked into the early morning sunlight, only to Spencer looking down at her, his hair long enough to tickle her skin.

“You were snoring,” he whispers down to her. “Also, Happy Birthday.”

She smiled, pulling him down and into a hug. “Thank you.”

Every morning with Spencer for the last 10 months had been special. Something about the warmth of his body against hers, and the sunlight bouncing around their new bedroom made this morning her favourite.

It was so calm on the water. She could see the snow settling on the ice as the sun made it glisten like diamonds. The birds had all but disappeared for the winter, the stillness in the world was lovely. It was like time stopped with Spencer laying in her arms.

“What do you think Penelope has planned at work today?” She asked him softly, playing with his incredibly long hair. It was almost longer than hers now.

“She told me to bring you in after 8.”

“So does that mean you have to distract me for a little while, Doctor Reid?” She teased him.

He pushed himself up, leaning on his arm as he hovered over her. “Any requests?”

She spread her arms and legs out like a starfish. “Have at ‘er,” she couldn’t stop herself from laughing as Spencer just shook his head.

He dipped down to her belly, blowing a raspberry onto her protruding bump. “Good morning to you too little dude,” he whispered against her skin. “Go back to sleep.”

She shoved him lightly, not able to stop herself from smiling, “he is asleep, leave him alone.”

It was the best morning ever.

Every time she thinks that she’s reached peak happiness she discovers another level. It felt like every time he touched her, she wanted to describe it as the best she’s ever felt.

When they finally got dressed and made their way downstairs for the morning, she found it incredibly odd that he wasn’t asking her what she wanted for breakfast, like he did every morning. Very concerned that she had all her meals and then some.

She fed the cat, picking him up and giving him a little snuggle after he finished his breakfast. “You are getting so big and chunky buddy, I might have to change your food timer.”

He meowed at her, sounding really pissed, making her laugh. “Fine but when you can't climb all the stairs in this house it’s your fault.” She placed him back on the ground and watched him wander into the sunlight. Plopping onto the hardwood and stretching out. Just living the life.

“Ready to go?” Spencer asked.

“Yeah, are we stopping for breakfast?” She asked, the second trimester making her hungrier than ever before.

“Penelope has it covered,” He said, placing his hand on her back as he leads her to the foyer.

“Oh this’ll be good,” she smiled, putting her shoes on before arming the alarm and heading outside.

Spencer locked their beautiful green front door, it was colder out than they had expected. He held her hand as she shivered slightly, they walked down the 3 steps together, Spencer not wanting her to fall if it happened to be icy.

Seat heaters were a blessing from god. The car was freezing when they first got in, the heater barely kicked in by the time they reached Quantico. Living 10 minutes away now was really nice.

Up the elevator they went, she was basically bouncing with excitement. “See?” Spencer nudged her with his shoulder. “Bunny.”

“Shut up,” she smiled as the door dinged before opening.

They walked into the bullpen to find it empty. She took off her coat and placed her bag on her desk before slowly walking up the small set of stairs and heading towards the briefing room.

All her co-workers were sitting around the table waiting for her and the boy wonder to arrive. Strawberry cheesecake danishes sat on a tray on the table, a strawberry milkshake in front of Y/N‘s regular spot.

“Happy Birthday!” They cheered as she walked in.

“You guys!?” She was so flattered. Never in her life has she been thrown a party by someone who wasn’t her mother. “Thank you.”

“Sit, sit,” Penelope insisted. Placing a danish on a napkin and putting it on her spot on the table. “I know you can’t have ice coffee right now, I thought a milkshake was the next best thing.”

“I seriously love you, come here,” she pulled Penelope into a hug, kissing her right on the mouth as everyone cheered.

“See that?” Penelope blushed. “Kisses are how I should be thanked around here.”

“HR already hates us,” Hotch made everyone laugh, “don’t push it.”

They all ate breakfast together, sharing stories from their weekend. They decided to spend New Years’ apart, everyone taking time to themselves for the first time ever.

“Where did you go, Prentiss?” Morgan inquired.

“Sin to Win weekend in Atlantic City,” she sighed and leaned back in her chair.

“Oh my god?” Y/N looked at her with absolute astonishment.

“What’s that?” Morgan and Spencer asked at the same time.

“Nothing.” Emily and Y/N replied in unison. Making a look at each other that screamed: ‘tell anyone and I’ll hurt you.’

Like a saviour, the fax machine in the briefing room turned on, spitting out 15 sheets of paper in a few minutes. Penelope cleaned off the table while Hotch ran everything over.

“Last night a family in Boston had their home burned down with them inside it,” Hotch explained.

“How is that something for us to look into?” Rossi asked.

“Because the unsub broke in and turned the water off and tampered with the gas system, causing CO2 to render them unconscious. He stabbed the father to death in the bed before laying gasoline all over the floors and lighting the house on fire.”

“Damn,” Y/N whispered under her breath. “That is personal.”

“I’d say,” Hotch agreed.

“Who was the family?” JJ asked.

Garcia looked through the sheets of paper spewed across the table. “Thomas Greenway, 61. His wife Alison 43. And 2 children aged 8 and 12.”

“We need to head to Boston,” Hotch announced. “I’ll call about prepping the plane. Y/N you can stay here with Garcia if you’d like, your insight will aid her search greatly.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t mind,” she smiled at Garcia. “Good luck out there.”

“Wheels up in 30.”

Everyone sighed before standing up. Spencer leaned in and kissed Y/N softly before standing up. “I’ll see you later.”

“Come home to me safely Doctor Reid.”

He smiled down at her, fixing his shirt before he left with Morgan.

“I hate to see him go, but I love watching him leave,” She said softly towards Penelope, making her laugh in the process.

“Come on mama, let’s go to my office,” Garcia said, putting her arm out for Y/N, the two of them skipping down the hallway with their arms linked as the team filled the elevator.

Y/N sat in Garcia’s office and immediately put her feet up, still drinking her milkshake as she flipped through the case files. “Can I suggest possibly the dumbest thing ever?”

She laughed, “shoot.”

“So, homeboy here breaks in and knocks out a family with co2 poisoning, just to stab the father to death and light the house on fire.” She ran it down once more, “What if we just search mothers stabbed before dying in a fire and just see if this is some traumatized kid, at this point that’s what they all end up being.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Garcia said, typing away as she added the parameters. “It’s like you can see the fucking future?”

Y/N threw her head back in a laugh, “did you get something? Seriously?”

“Adele Hollis was found dead in a burning apartment building in Boston in 1978. ME reports say she was already dead from co2 poisoning before she was stabbed 6 times in the chest. The whole apartment complex went up in flames after the unsub doused the bed in gasoline and lit her up.”

“Well fuck,” Y/N replied. “Does she have children?”

“Yes, her son Cameron was at school when it happened. He was 8, he moved in with his step-dad shortly after, they ruled him out and never found the guy,” Garcia added.

Y/N leaned across the desk and dialled Hotch, the plane hadn’t even left yet. “I think I found the unsub?”

“How?” Hotch asked.

“I jokingly asked Garcia to search and see if there are any men whose mothers died in a fire after being stabbed cause we deal with sooo many traumatized kids, and we found one,” she laughed at just how insane it sounded.

“Video in and give us a rundown.” Hotch hung up. Ever the conversationalist.

Garcia and Y/N squeezed into the same frame seeing everyone gathered in the little plane seats. She gave them the basic rundown of her findings, watching them all shake their heads at the fact she solved the case already.

“Have the local PD issue a warrant and bring him in. Can you check and see if he knows the victims?” Hotch asked.

“On it sir,” she smiled, clicking away.

“How did you do that so fast?” Morgan has to ask, “it’s not human.”

She laughed again, “If I’ve learned anything in the last 10 months it’s that traumatized little boys can fuck up a lot of people’s lives.”

“Preach,” Rossi added.

“Um, guys,” Garcia’s tone changed. “Cameron Hollis’s birth father is the father who was stabbed in this case.”

“You’re shitting me?” Y/N couldn’t believe it. “Do they have any kind of relationship?”

“His father is on the birth certificate but it looks like Adele left him when Cameron was 3, after some domestic disputes that had the cops at their door. She was remarried when he was 6, it doesn’t look like they ever really talked,” Garcia explained while continuing to dig.

Y/N watched through the monitor as the team gripped their seats, the plane was taking off now. They would be in Boston with this guy in just a few hours.

“Thanks, Lady Wonder,” Morgan winked at the camera for Y/N before leaning in and turning the monitor off.

She sat back and put her feet up once more. “Best birthday ever.”

—

They had Cameron Hollis in custody with a full confession before 5 pm that day. Everyone was beyond thankful that they would be back home with their families shortly.

Y/N had said goodbye to Penelope shortly after, driving home to have some alone time. Rossi would drive Spencer home, they lived close enough now that they could all carpool if they wanted.

She had never been in their new house all alone before. She took the time to just walk around and admire everything, being thankful that her life ended up like this. Not taking a second of it for granted.

She sat down on her bed finally, taking her phone out and calling JJ.

“Hello bestie,” she answered.

Y/N smiled, “Hey, do you think Will could find a babysitter tonight?”

“Probably, why?”

“Tell him to drop Henry off and head to my place. I’m going to have pizza delivered and you can come here with Spencer when you land,” Y/N offered. “Have a date night with us.”

“That would be amazing, I’ll call Will right now. See you later,” JJ sounded happy. It made her smile.

“See you.” She hung up, laying back against her bed softly.

She changed quickly before heading downstairs, wearing a pair of leggings and an academy t-shirt. She was getting too big for almost everything she owned now.

She placed an order for a few pizzas to arrive at 8:30. Next, making sure she had more beer in the fridge, for the nights when Will wandered over with JJ. They had visited almost every weekend since she and Spencer moved in.

That’s when she saw him.

chapter 20

Previously...

The dream was always the same:

A man would get into their home, he knew their schedule, he knew when she’d be alone.

He’d get in without any trouble and he never made a sound. She wouldn’t even know he was in the room until she felt the cold metal gun press against her face, as shaking hands instructed her to tie her own behind her back.

He’d always use her supplies. Duck tape, shoelaces, scarves. Anything at his disposal that he didn’t have to bring with him. Almost as if he didn’t fully choose her to be his victim until the very last minute.

He assaulted her all for what felt like hours, stopping occasionally to cry in the bathroom or eat a snack in their kitchen. And he always showered at the end. Sometimes, he’d wrap her up in a housecoat, put her sheets in the wash and sincerely advised her to invest in a better lock for the sliding door.

Then he was gone.

Slipping into the night, on his way to become someone else’s nightmare...

There was a man in her yard, he was dressed in all black, with a backpack wrapped around his shoulders and a ski mask on his face.

He couldn’t see her from where she was in the kitchen, but she could see him. She ducked to the floor and crawled towards the stairs, booking it up the steps and grabbing her gun. She made sure it was loaded, grabbing a second clip from her nightstand and tucking it into her pocket. Then she detonated the alarm system from the remote on Spencer’s bedside table.

She crawled into her closet, making herself look like a pile of clothes.

And she waited.

She felt a little insane, she tried to convince herself that it could be anyone from a neighbour to a lost person from the trail. For all she knew, it was someone from the academy lost in the woods.

She tried to calm her breathing, calling Will with her cell phone. “Hey, JJ just filled me in-“

“There is someone in my backyard in all black with a backpack, how fast can you get here?” She panicked in a whisper.

“Fuck, okay, I just dropped Henry off at the sitter. I’ll be right over, stay put and I will call you when I’m there,” his southern accent came out more when he was stressed.

“Okay, thank you,” she hung up and took a deep breath.

She closed her eyes, listening to the sounds in her house.

She remembered what the house sounded like that morning. The stillness, the quiet peacefulness of her and Spencer in the bed only 12 feet away from where she was now hiding.

She remembered the way the floors creaked as it popped and settled with the heat, how the tree outside would sometimes tap the window, the sound of snow tumbling off their roof. Passing cars on the main road kicking up gravel, the odd bird singing in the cold breeze, her own heartbeat in her ears.

Then she heard the alarm turn off with its overly happy welcome home chime. Only knowing one man would be able to disarm her alarm system without a code, and he was in the air right now.

“Open,” she heard the alarm’s voice as the door opened.

Footsteps travelled along the hardwood floor in wet shoes. She listened to the sound of the wet rubber on hardwood explore the first floor.

There were 2 people in her house, splitting up as one went to the kitchen and one went up the stairs.

She aimed her gun at the doorway, aiming to shoot anyone who walked through the door in the leg. Not wanting to kill anyone who she knew that might’ve gotten in for a different reason, unannounced.

In the rare happenstance that this wasn’t her worst nightmare coming true.

Her hands were shaking as she kept the gun pointed for what felt like hours, just waiting for him to find her. The door handle started to turn slowly, she heard the sound of the old metal grinding ever so slowly.

The first thing she saw were his eyes, yet again. The same eyes that haunted her dreams, the eyes every woman she spoke to for 2 years remembered from behind the ski mask.

Fuck Wichita, he was her own personal nightmare. He had been for a while. Those eyes, big and black all the way around, not a single glimpse of colour or life or hope. Every single dream came flooding back as she saw him in her doorway, the same aura of death, destruction, loneliness and despair from all those months ago was now filling the most special place in her home.

He still hadn’t seen her in the closet, looking around the room carefully as she watched him. Waiting for him to get closer, and closer to where she was. Finally peeling back the wooden closet door.

“Surprise, bitch,” She said before aiming higher and shooting him between the eyes, knocking him down.

She stood and stepped out of the closet, “Travis fucking Johnson,” she shook her head as she looked at the man bleeding on her bedroom floor. Taking his pulse to ensure that he was dead.

She couldn’t hear anything for a second, trying her best to zone in on the sound of someone tiptoeing in her kitchen, “WHO ELSE IS IN MY HOUSE?” She screamed.

Suddenly she could hear the sound of a car on the gravel and then a door slamming. She stepped into the hallway, gun pointed, looking over the railing towards the front door.

“Y/N?!” Will yelled. Gun pointed as he entered her house.

“I’ve got one down, I think there’s another in the kitchen,” she replied.

“On it.”

Y/N looked down the hall, none of the upstairs rooms were open, every door exactly how it looked when she ran up the stairs. She headed down the steps when 2 shots were fired.

She quickly ran to the kitchen to see another man on her floor behind the counter, his feet the only thing she could see as he laid there, dead. Will was standing over him, taking his pulse.

“He’s gone,” Will confirmed.

Y/N finally let herself panic, shaking as she tried to catch her breath, pulling out a chair from the counter and sitting down. Her adrenalin was running wild in her bloodstream, she didn’t even know how to speak let alone think about what had just happened.

“Y/N,” Will’s soft voice brought her back to reality. He was right beside her, wrapping his big strong arms around her to try and calm her down. “Shh, it’s okay.”

“Who was it?” Is all she asks him.

“I have no idea, who was upstairs?” Will asked.

“Travis Johnson, from my first case with the BAU,” she calmed down a bit, breaking away from the hug to get off the chair.

She walked around the counter island, looking down to find another man she knew, bleeding on her brand new hardwood floors. “Oh my god,” she felt sick at the sight.

He smelled the same, stale and rotten. The same look on his face even as he slipped into eternal damnation. Empty as when he was alive, pure evil down to his core. Dead to match how he felt inside as he did those awful things to undeserving mothers.

The second worst man she’s ever come in contact with.

The Winnemucca Womb Raider.

She backed up into Will, he held her close so she didn’t drop to the floor, helping her back into the chair. “Do you know him?”

“Yeah,” she felt herself starting to cry. “How? They were both in prison?”

“We need to call the police,” Will said softly before taking his phone out.

“911 what’s your emergency?” She could hear the muffled woman’s voice as he pressed his phone to his ear.

“This is Detective William LaMontagne Jr. Two men just broke into my friend’s home and tried to kill her,” he explained the situation, making her shutter.

She watched as he talked to the woman, suddenly not able to hear anything as her body slipped into shock. She was completely numb. In the last 10 months she hadn’t fired a single shot on the job, and yet on her birthday, the one time she's alone, she has to kill someone in her own home.

The place where she was supposed to feel safe and happy. Where her new life with Spencer and Matthew was supposed to start. They promised Gideon love and laughter, having that dream stripped from them when Pure Evil stepped over the threshold.

It was just like the dream, the last one she had before Spencer wrapped himself around her, calming her down.

This time he wasn’t here, he didn’t even know that this had happened, he wasn’t always going to be there to save her. She pulled herself back into the moment, calming herself like she had all those years before him.

She wasn’t a damsel in distress, he knew that.

A man walked into her home, the one time he knew she’d be alone and vulnerable.

That was the only part of the dream that matched.

Unlike her dream, she wasn’t a victim. Not in this house. Not in her space. Not ever.

The sound of the sirens echoed in her ears finally, she turned to the commotion of officers running into her new house. Will walked them through it all, telling them who Y/N was and that this was her home. How she saw a man in her yard and hid before killing him upstairs.

“Ma’am?” A stranger in a uniform tried to get her attention. “Ma’am, can you come with me?”

She nodded, standing up and finding support in the man’s arms. He wrapped her up in a silver blanket before he led her outside and into an ambulance. She had her vitals taken and an oxygen mask placed on her to help her calm down.

“Is the baby okay?” She asked the EMT, pulling the mask off her face so he’d hear her.

“Yes,” he smiled. “Strong heartbeat, no signs of distress but you need to relax so we can keep it that way.”

Will climbed into the ambulance then, taking her hand in his, “hey doll, are you okay?”

She nodded, “just a little shook up.”

“I called Spencer,” he said softly. “They’re 30 minutes from landing, then him and the team are on their way. No one told the team about the prison break in Oklahoma, they didn’t even think to connect them back to you.”

She sighed, “two cases in 2 different states, where the offenders ended up going to a 3rd state to meet and do time together and bond over the women who put them away. Makes sense.”

“You put them both away?” He asked.

She nodded again. “I basically made it my life goal to get Travis Johnson, he’s the reason I have this job, he’s the reason I’m pregnant right now,” her words trailed off into whispers. “I saw him in November, he congratulated me when he saw the bump.”

“Who was the other guy?”

“The Winnemucca womb raider, he would kill pregnant women by strangling them before removing their wombs,” she looked at him, horrified. “They wanted to kill us...”

She wrapped her arms around her own stomach, she had almost forgotten to worry about him. To even think that she was more than just one person at the moment.

They weren’t after her, they were after the most important thing to her. Her son, her baby boy. Like all the mothers before her, like their own. They wanted her to suffer, for her son to be spared a future worse than death in their opinion.

All the images from the cases came flying back as she blinked faster and faster. Strangled women, removed wombs, thanking God for a second that Spencer was the one to see the recovered organs in his trailer. A sick feeling bubbled in her body, a chill ran deep in her bones.

Then everything went black.

—

The first thing she remembers when she gained consciousness again was that Spencer was furious. She could see him and Hotch in a heated conversation from inside the ambulance, she tried her best to wake up and zone in on what was going on.

It was too dark for her to read their lips, but he was angry.

JJ was sitting beside her now, holding her hand. “Hey, bestie.”

“Did the cat get out?” She doesn’t know why that’s the first thing she asks, “the door was left open, did he get out?” Still in shock, still trying to understand everything.

JJ shushed her, petting her hair as she leaned in close, hugging her softly. “He was in the laundry room, Will said he made sure to find him when you were getting checked out.”

“Good,” she nodded along as she listened. “I’m so overwhelmed.”

JJ let out an awkward laugh, “I can imagine.”

“I’m also starting to fall in love with your husband,” she found her sense of humour then. “He has perfect timing.”

JJ laughed a little harder, causing Spencer’s focus to shift to the ambulance. Y/N watched him run towards it and jump in.

“Y/N, oh my god,” Spencer wrapped his arms around her. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she replied. “I’m safe, the baby’s healthy,” she assured him.

He kissed her all over her face, making her giggle when he wouldn’t stop, repeating kisses all over her face, her ears and her neck. She could hear JJ also laughing as she watched with Hotch just outside.

He finally stopped to catch his breath, hugging her again with his face in her neck. “I love you,” she reminded him.

“You love me?” He pulled back, “I love you so fucking much, I am never leaving you alone again.”

“Spencer,” she laughed, “I think I handled it pretty well.”

He huffed and shook his head, “you shouldn’t have had to handle this in the first fucking place! It’s not that fucking hard for someone to call the god damn FBI and say hey two psychopaths that your genius new girl put behind bars, fucking escaped!”

She finally knew what Hotch meant when he said Spencer’s anger scared him. She looked at him like he was a whole different person, “Spence, baby, I know. It’s okay, I’m fine see?”

She placed her hands on his cheeks as she looked into his beautiful hazel eyes, watching his pupils change size as he focused on her. Love and life behind them, true happiness clouded by horror at the thought of losing the love of his life.

He was what a true man was supposed to be, a real genuine person with love and kindness, and empathy. Her soulmate, her Spencer.

“We can’t control everything, that’s what you told me. We handle what’s in front of us, and we do it well,” she smiled as she reminded him.

Spencer started to cry, pulling her in close. “I can’t lose you.”

She cried at the sound of his voice, his heart shattering as he cried in her arms, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Terrified on a level she’s never seen in him before.

She rubbed his back as she held him, rocking him lightly as she shushed him absentmindedly. Soothing him as if her life depended on it, it broke her heart to see him this broken about the idea of losing her. She loved him so much it made her heart physically ache in her chest as she held him.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she promised, whispering against his hair. “I’ll kill a million men if it means coming home to you.”

He laughed in the middle of his cries, she could feel him smile softly as he sniffled against her shirt. “Promise?” He asked as he pulled back to look at her.

She wiped the tears from his cheeks, his beautiful eyelashes clumped together in the wetness. He was so sweet, she couldn’t help kissing him quickly, “promise.”

—

Hotch insisted they head to the BAU with the rest of the team while he handled the crime scene and the forensic clean-up, knowing on a personal level what it was like to clean Evil’s blood out of your bedroom carpet.

Y/N was sitting in the car waiting to leave when she saw Will coming out of her house with 3 pizzas. “I forgot I ordered those,” she gasped at the sight.

“You should’ve seen the look on the delivery guy’s face,” JJ laughed.

It was really bizarre having a pizza party in Rossi’s office after shooting someone in her home. Everyone was trying to be as chipper as possible to try and take the tension off the situation, but Y/N was pretty quiet.

Morgan got everyone to settle down before closing the office door, sitting close to her and Spencer. “Everyone in this room has either been shot, in danger, held hostage or worse,” he offered her some support.

“If you want to share anything, express any feeling or just tell us to fuck off, you can,” his words were soft, she watched him with soft eyes as he spoke.

“The only thing I can think of is that fate is fucked up,” she replied, the honesty slipping off her tongue like it was made of butter.

“You have the floor,” he insisted that she continue.

“I moved into a tiny apartment, farther away from my job, because I needed somewhere to live, and I found Spencer in the hallway. Spencer led me to you, and you guys helped me find Travis Johnson, my personal nightmare case of 2 years,” she explained like they never knew that. “But it’s so much more than that now.”

“We ran into Travis at the prison in Oklahoma a few months ago,” Spencer added. “He noticed that she was pregnant and congratulated her.”

“But the thing that’s fucking me up the most is that, and sorry TMI,” she warned them before continuing. “but we conceived the baby in Kansas when we caught the VICAP counsellor, only a few towns over from where we arrested Travis. Then we ran into him on a different case in Oklahoma, and he happened to be in the same prison as a man from New Mexico I put away for killing pregnant women. Something about this all lines up so perfectly... I hate that I find it so interesting.”

“That is kind of insane,” Morgan agreed. “I think it just means you and Spencer are being pulled together by something with bigger plans than you realize. And you’re a good shot, so thankfully you have nothing to worry about now.”

“Thanks,” she smiled.

She held Spencer’s hand, looking down at the ring on her finger that meant she was his forever. As much as she hated the idea of a man owning a woman, she loved the idea that Spencer was her person forever.

They were tied together in a way no one would understand, she loved him deeper than she ever thought possible.

Everything happened for a reason. Her reason just so happened to be Fate wanting her to spend the rest of her life, Happily with Doctor Spencer Reid.

—

She woke up around noon the next day, Spencer was sitting up beside her reading a book when she finally clued into where she was. They had spent the night at Rossi’s house while the forensic cleanup team handled her kitchen and bedroom.

“Good morning,” she smiled up at him, stretching against the sheets as she fully woke up.

He put his book down and joined her, wrapping her up in his arms and kissing her neck softly.

“Good morning,” he replied finally. She loved his voice when he hadn’t spoken yet. His vocal cords yearning to be used.

She smiled against his skin, holding him against her chest as she breathed him in. Her safety, her cosmic soulmate.

Everything just felt better in the world when they were pressed this close to each other. This was how they were meant to be.

“How are you feeling?” He asked after a few minutes of silence.

She rolled him onto his back, snuggling into his chest and lifting a leg over him so the baby wasn’t squished. “Good, I’m excited to go back home later.”

“You’re not scared,” his fingers ran through her hair as she felt his breath on her face.

“No,” she shook her head against him. “Yesterday could’ve been a lot worse, but I’m trained to think on my feet and the danger is gone now. I’m never going to let myself be a victim in my own home.”

“I love you,” he reminded her. “And after yesterday-“

“I want to get married soon too,” she cut him off, getting up and sitting on his hips. She ran her hands over his chest as she looked down at his beautiful, still puffy, morning face.

He beamed up at her, “I feel it too, I want to make it official. I want to shout it from the rooftops that the love of my life chose me too.”

She nodded softly, “and we agreed that in April this year we’d go to Vegas, and we’d do it. I think we still should, I just want to plan it a little.”

“Of course,” he agreed, squeezing her thighs in his excitement. “Come here.”

She held his face in her hands as she leaned down, rubbing her thumb over his bottom lip as she looked at him ever so softly. “I love you,” she said before kissing him.

His hands wandered over her back, holding her into the kiss. Breathing in deep through his nose, kissing her as if they hadn’t seen each other in months.

Spencer was desperate to love her, and she was desperate to be loved by him.

She broke the kiss to just look at him, moving his hair back and pressing her forehead against his. “The park across the street from my parents house,” she whispered.

“Mhmm.”

“I want to get married there, I want to start the rest of my life in the spot where I first really fell in love with you,” she explained, her lips close enough to him that the words could have stuck to his skin.

“I think I can pull some strings and get us a permit by April,” He smiled against her lips, “what day are we thinking?”

“The 23rd, 1 year exactly,” she said before Spencer pulled her back into another kiss, this time it’s soft and delicate. “Until forever,” she whispered against his lips.

“You need to promise me one thing,” he added. Feeling her nod as she kissed down his neck. “I know you said you’re fine, but the second you’re not I need you to tell me.”

“Okay,” she agreed, sitting back up as she straddled his hips. “You have to do the same, I can’t handle you crying in my arms like that again, it really broke my heart.”

He held his pinky out to her, she smiled as she wrapped her own around his. Both leaning in to kiss the other's knuckle, a small tradition Y/N adored.

—

They were back at their house by 5 pm. Hotch had ensured that everything was completely cleaned and there was 0 evidence that a crime had even taken place on the property. Penelope on the other hand had taken it upon herself to break into their alarm system and reset it for them shortly after everyone left.

They changed the code, closed the door and sighed at the beautiful home that felt a little different now. “I think I want to paint,” she announced.

“Yeah?” Spencer laughed at the suddenness.

“It’s too blah, y’know? I see what they were doing with the whites and beige for all the light. But, I’m thinking green in here to flow with the cabinets in the kitchen,” she walked through the foyer as she imagined the colours that would look good. “Like an olive or forest, maybe even jade. It’ll look nice with the dark wood.”

“That would be nice,” Spencer agreed. “Make it feel more like the old apartment.”

“Exactly,” she smiled. “I miss the clutter and the intimacy of the last place, and I know you miss the look of books everywhere.”

“I’m still alphabetizing them in my office,” he added. “I’d like to paint in there as well, I’ve been looking at antique chairs and couches for my reading.”

“Hotch is going to make us take 2 weeks off again,” Y/N looked at him with excitement. “We can put all our energy into this place now.”

“Let’s make it ours,” He agreed.

“Wanna go to the hardware store and look at paint samples?” She hopped with excitement, grabbing his arm and tugging on him.

He laughed, pulling her into his chest. “Sure, bunny,” he pressed his cheek to the top of her head as he held her. “What about Matthew’s room?”

“Oh, me and Penelope have it all planned, all the stuff is being delivered next month. She kinda went a little nuts,” Y/N laughed.

“He’s going to be one loved little boy,” Spencer chuckled. “Come on, let’s go.”

#hypothetically #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader

[randomposterofstuff]

On the Foundations of Levi and Mikasa’s Relationship

Author’s Note: Hello, again! I'm back with another analysis. This time, I will present my personal take on how Mikasa's relationship with Levi first developed and how trust and understanding are the foundations of their connection. Considering that I made a rather lengthy analysis of Mikasa's link to Eren, I only felt it fair that I do one that's purely centered on RivaMika. Haha.

This post will mainly discuss their fight against Annie’s Female Titan in the Forest of Giant Trees. I know that many RivaMika fans consider this scene to be the pair’s most iconic moment. (And I agree. Haha.) However, after some thinking, I realized that there was more to the scene than meets the eye. I know that other fans have probably already made their own analyses of this scene, but I just still want to share my thoughts on it. Haha.

Anyway, the analysis will discuss the following points:

1. Their connection is founded on understanding and trust. This point focuses on Levi and Mikasa's interactions when they pursued Annie's Female Titan in the Forest of Giant Trees. I will explain how their connection was established during this moment in the series.

2. The foundations of the connection can be the basis of a strong and stable relationship. This explains how the understanding and trust between them can deepen and strengthen their bond.

We now begin:

1. Levi and Mikasa’s connection is founded on understanding and trust.

As previously mentioned, this point will analyze their interactions during the fight scene with Annie in the Forest of Giant Trees back in Season 1. Most people might think that Mikasa came to trust and appreciate Levi because he rescued him. While this is undoubtedly a factor, I believe that there is more to that.

For organizational purposes, this point shall be divided into two (2) subtopics. The first will focus on Levi, and the second will focus on Mikasa.

a. Levi’s connection to Mikasa is based on understanding and empathy.

We all know that during the 56th expedition, Eren was captured by Annie after the latter killed multiple members of the Scouting Regiment/Survey Corps. When she had successfully captured him, Mikasa chased after her with the intent of killing her.

Mikasa was all alone in her pursuit until she was intercepted by Levi. I think that when Levi saw her pursuing Annie on her own, he probably thought that she was just another soldier trying to retrieve Eren for the sake of the mission.

So, with that in mind, he tried to stop her and told her that they needed to fall back. When he questioned her about Eren’s condition, she immediately insisted that he was still alive. Mikasa argued that Annie’s intention was to run away with Eren in her mouth since she needed her fists to keep fighting while on the run. She also reasoned that if Annie had wanted to kill Eren, she would have crushed him immediately instead of putting him in her mouth.

In response, he calmly assessed the situation. He stated that it was more reasonable to assume that Eren was dead. He considered that Annie had bitten the entire nape off and that eating him could have been her goal.

However, Mikasa desperately insisted that Eren was still alive. And her desperation was made more apparent when she blamed Levi for the current situation since he was unable to protect Eren.

It was during this moment that Levi recognized her from the trial. Interestingly, when he finally recognized her, there was a look of surprised realization on his face. Apart from this, he also made an effort to directly face her in mid-air. What’s even more interesting is the way he looked at her.

Screenshots taken from Season 1, Episode 22 of the Attack on Titan anime.

I would interpret the looks he gave her as looks of understanding and empathy. I think that when Levi saw Mikasa's desperation, he was reminded of his own desperation when Furlan and Isabel were attacked by Titans.

In the Choice with No Regrets OVAs, Levi had insisted on executing their mission of stealing the documents from Erwin by himself. He wanted them to stay inside the Walls while he went with the scouts on the expedition. This is because he wanted them to be safe. But they insisted on going with him, and he relented. When it began to rain during the expedition, Levi took off on his own to carry out the plan. However, not long after they had parted ways, a horde of Titans went towards Isabel and Furlan’s direction. Realizing that they were in danger, he immediately went back without a second thought. , Levi was desperate to reach them in time. But he was too late and had to watch his closest friends die at the hands of the Titans.

I also think that Mikasa's words resonated with Levi. She said "this never would have happened in the first place had you protected Eren!"

The words resonated with him in the sense that he was reminded of how he felt when Isabel and Furlan died. When he failed to save them, he was furious and he blamed himself. He kept thinking that they never would have died had he protected them.

It is worth noting that this particular experience of his parallels Mikasa's experience of nearly losing Eren. Both events happened during a scouting expedition, and both had wanted and tried to save their friend/s on their own.

Going back to the main point, it is likely that Levi understood and empathized with Mikasa during their pursuit. And this is probably one reason why he relented to her insistence that Eren was still alive.

Levi knew the pain of losing someone important to Titans. He also knew the pain that came with trying and failing to save them despite his best efforts. And I think that it is because of this that he did not want Mikasa to suffer the same way he did. So, he decided to help her.

Thus, it can be said that Levi was with her because he understood her.

Screenshot taken from Chapter 30 of the "Shingeki no Kyojin" manga.

b. Mikasa’s connection to Levi is based on trust.

During their pursuit, Mikasa was mostly emotionally distressed. While she tried to keep a clear mind, her actions were guided mainly by her emotions.

Conversely, Levi kept a calm and rational mind. While he was angered and saddened by his comrades' deaths, he was able to maintain a clear mind in assessing the situation.

This observation is relevant because I think that it was Levi’s sense of judgment that earned him Mikasa’s trust.

Because of his Underground upbringing and his years as a soldier, Levi has a great amount of experience and wisdom in both life and in battle. These enable him to properly assess situations through a wise and more learned perspective. It is true that he himself has stated that a person can never be absolutely sure if their choice is the right one until they actually do it. However, it is clear that Levi can make wise and calculated decisions that have desirable and beneficial outcomes because of his experience.

He demonstrated this to Mikasa during their battle with Annie. While she was adamant about her desire to slay the Titan shifter, Levi ordered her to abandon that plan and not to engage with her. Mikasa protested by saying that Annie had killed so many of their comrades. While Levi understood her point, he reasoned that it would be impossible under the circumstances. He then told her that they would operate under the assumption that Eren was still alive and that their main objective would be to rescue him. Levi then ordered Mikasa to distract Annie while he attacked her.

Screenshots taken from Season 1, Episode 22 of the Attack on Titan anime.

During this time, I think that Mikasa had only cooperated because she was desperate to get Eren back. However, I think that in the aftermath of the battle, she realized that Levi’s assessments and decisions were sound and correct. And I think that what made her realize this was when Levi injured himself when he saved her.

Although her orders were to merely distract Annie and not to engage in battle, Mikasa thought that she had an opening to kill Annie when the latter’s nape became exposed after Levi’s barrage of attacks. As such, she moved in for the kill. However, when Levi noticed, he immediately yelled at her to stop.

Screenshots taken from Season 1, Episode 22 of the Attack on Titan anime.

From how I see it, Levi probably realized that Annie had exposed her nape in the hopes of drawing both him and Mikasa towards her so that she could kill them and resume her escape. I think that Levi’s experience in battle had allowed him to foresee this kind of tactic from an enemy.

In that case, Levi was correct and, knowing this, immediately rushed towards Mikasa to push her out of the way when Annie lifted her fist to crush her. Mikasa was not able to react in time – it is worth noting that she looked shocked when she saw the Titan’s fist moving towards her. She would have been crushed if Levi hadn’t saved her.

Screenshots taken from Season 1, Episode 22 of the Attack on Titan anime.

I think that the experience made Mikasa realize that Levi's judgment call to abandon the goal of killing Annie was correct. She regretted disobeying his order to not engage the Titan in battle, especially since it almost got her killed, injured Levi in the process, and would have probably cost them Eren. On this, I think that this cemented her trust in him and his judgment.

It is also worth noting that when Levi began his attack on Annie, Mikasa was impressed by his speed and battle prowess. And his skill likely increased her confidence and faith in him.

Screenshots taken from Season 1, Episode 22 of the Attack on Titan anime.

Furthermore, I think that the entire experience also probably made her realize that Levi has the best interests of his comrades in mind. When he went out of his way to save her and Eren from Annie and injured himself as a result, Mikasa realized that she can trust Levi to make the necessary decisions that will benefit and protect them. And I also think that this realization was further solidified when Levi told her to abandon her desire to get revenge on Annie and to focus on getting themselves and Eren back to safety.

Screenshots taken from Season 1, Episode 22 of the Attack on Titan anime.

In short, Mikasa trusts Levi to protect them.

Screenshot taken from Chapter 57 of the "Shingeki no Kyojin" manga.

-----

2. The understanding and trust between them can lead to a deeper and stronger bond.

This point will be divided into two (2) subpoints:

a. Mikasa’s trust in Levi led to her developing genuine concern for him.

Mikasa placed her trust in Levi. This is significant because she usually takes it upon herself to protect herself and her comrades. Considering her reserved nature and her fear of losing loved ones, I think her decision to trust Levi speaks volumes of her faith in him and his abilities.

I believe that the professional trust Mikasa has in him has started to bloom into personal trust, and perhaps even something more. Considering all the struggles they went through and all the battles they fought together, I think that it is safe to assume that Mikasa has also come to trust Levi on a personal level. It is also apparent that she has come to care more for him as time went by. This is exemplified by the following instances:

1. When she cried out to Levi when he was injured during the struggle against Eren and Ymir’s Titans.

2. When she rushed towards him when his leg was caught in the mouth of a Titan and was subsequently shown to be checking on his injured condition while on the back of Falco Grice’s Jaw Titan during the moment before Armin transformed.

All of these things considered, Mikasa’s trust in Levi has paved the way for concern to develop. I’d like to explain further by analyzing how Mikasa reacted to an injured Levi on two (2) different occasions.

During the Uprising arc, Mikasa asked Levi about his leg because she felt guilty for being the cause of his injury. On the other hand, during the Rumbling, when Levi struggled to fight because of his extensive injuries, she checked on his condition when they had a brief moment of respite from the fighting.

It might not seem like much, but I think that this shows how Mikasa’s concern for him developed over time. At first, her concern was mainly driven by guilt. But this concern became more personal and became rooted in genuine worry for his well-being.

b. Levi's understanding and empathy towards her allow him to relate to her and her feelings.

On Levi’s part, his understanding of her allows him to relate to her and make sense of her feelings. This has already been shown during the fight against Annie during the Female Titan arc. Another instance that shows this was when he and Mikasa struggled over the Titan serum injection during the Battle of Shiganshina arc.

That particular situation was an unfair and emotionally charged moment where they had to literally choose whose life to save. And because Mikasa did not want to lose another loved one, she lunged at Levi when he initially decided to save Erwin over Armin.

On Levi’s part, it is worthy to note that he did not display any anger towards Mikasa when she attacked him. Instead, he just held her at bay while explaining that humanity needed Erwin’s skills. I think that he understood the pain she was feeling during that moment and silently acknowledged that she had every right to feel the way that she did. She and Eren were briefly imprisoned because their acts of defying him still constituted insubordination during an official mission. However, despite this, Levi did not personally feel any resentment towards either of them. And this is because he understood the pain that they felt.

Screenshots taken from Season 3, Episode 18 of the Attack on Titan anime.

As to how Levi’s understanding of her will affect the development of their relationship in the future, I think that he would play a significant role in her healing.

There is no doubt that Mikasa would be broken-hearted and traumatized over her decision to kill Eren. I strongly believe that she made the conscious decision to kill him as her way of letting him go and to save humanity from his cruelty. Nonetheless, Mikasa is still only human, and the fact remains that Eren was a huge part of her life. Therefore, her grieving the loss would be understandable and expected.

On this, I can see Levi as being patient towards her and comforting her in silent and subtle ways. I can see the two of them connecting and strengthening their bond. They fought alongside each other during the final stand against Eren. Both of them are also scarred and traumatized soldiers. And I can see them healing together and processing their traumas through sharing silent moments of companionship and expressing the pain they feel during especially vulnerable moments. Their shared and similar experiences can serve as common ground for their connection to further develop.

As for Mikasa, I think that it can be said that after everything they went through, she would come to trust Levi enough to be comfortable and be vulnerable with him and in front of him. She and Levi had fought together side-by-side on various missions. She has trusted him to make the right calls for their sakes as well as for the sakes of their comrades. She is aware that he knows of how much Eren had meant to her. And she also knows that he had suffered great losses as well. I think that with all of these things, Mikasa would realize that she can let her guard down in front of him and trust him to understand her.

-----

In relation to this, here's a quick (and shameless) plug. Haha. I wrote a RivaMika story about Levi comforting Mikasa when she a nightmare about Eren. It's a post-canon story that features a close and intimate relationship between the two. The genre is a cross between fluff and angst. If you're interested, the link is right below. Let me know what you think!

Link: Glad that You're Here

-----

A QUICK NOTE ON THE SCENE WHERE MIKASA ATTACKED LEVI WHEN HE SAID THAT HE WOULD USE THE SERUM ON ERWIN:

Some people might say that Mikasa does not completely trust Levi and his decisions because she attacked him when he initially decided to save Erwin instead of Armin. If anyone were to say this, my response would be that I disagree.

As earlier mentioned, that particular situation was exceptional in terms of circumstances. They literally had to choose whose life to save. And considering that the life of one of her closest friends was hanging in the balance, Mikasa naturally wanted to save Armin.

And because of this, she attacked Levi and struggled against him for the serum. While her act was not ideal from a practical point of view, it was nonetheless understandable. The thought of losing Armin pained Mikasa. The emotional distress she felt was heavy and valid. It can be said that she should have kept her emotions out of it. But it is important to remember that at the end of the day, Mikasa is still only human – and that she has already lost so many loved ones before. As such, she could not be faulted for feeling her emotions.

It is also worth noting that while she initially protested against the decision, Mikasa eventually accepted, albeit with a heavy heart, Levi’s initial decision to save Erwin. This is because Hange helped her realize that Levi was correct about Erwin’s leadership skills and experience being valuable assets to the people inside the Walls. The Titan-scientist likewise helped her realize that even though losing someone is painful, they, as soldiers, must find the strength to move forward. While it is likely that the latter realization was more impactful than the first, Mikasa still realized that Levi’s first decision was logical.

Another thing worth noting is that instead of forcibly taking the serum from Levi, she asked him to give it to her. After some thinking, this is how I would interpret this moment: Mikasa wanted Levi to decide for himself to choose Armin. When Eren plead for Armin’s case, she reacted by asking Levi for the serum. I think that she hoped that he would be convinced that saving Armin was the right decision. I believe that this shows just how much faith she has in Levi’s judgment.

Screenshot taken from Season 3, Episode 18 of the Attack on Titan anime.

Thus, all things considered, this particular instance does not change the fact that Mikasa trusts Levi. Furthermore, as previously discussed above, this moment also further proves that Levi understands Mikasa.

-----

Author's Note: Well, that it's for now. Haha. I plan to post more analyses in the future. I hope that this post is clear. Let me know your thoughts and opinions!

#rivamika #levimika #levi ackerman #mikasa ackerman #levi x mikasa #mikasa x levi #attack on titan #aot #shingeki no kyojin #snk

[queenofthefallenangels]

She’s Mine Part 2

Jon Moxley X Reader

Rated M 

Warnings: I don’t think theres any for this chapter

Chapter Summary: After breaking it off with Jon, she reflects on her relationship with Kenny and how it all  started  with Jon that fateful night. 

Tags: @abadamn​ @hotyeehawman​​

The next night was the show. I always got their early and ended up staying late most show nights. I would be on my feet endlessly trying to help people and making sure that no last minute changes needed to be mad. I worked very hard at my job especially seeing how I was lucky to even have a job here. I needed to keep that job here. I had been worried about losing it ever since the affair started with Jon especially since Kenny was the one that got me the job in the first place. 

Kenny and I met while he was in Japan wrestling and I was in school on a forgein exchange program in Japan and my roommates had talked me into going with them to one of the wrestling matches. I had very little interest back then in wrestling. My roommate told me that Japanese wrestling was nothing like American wrestling and she thinks I would love it if I gave it a chance. She was right. I adored wrestling as soon as I saw it the first time. After I came home from the first time seeing it, I began to do tons of research on the different types. I had become obsessed going to a match every night that they had one. 

That was how I met Kenny. Kenny was wrestling one night when I was in the front row. He had done a high dive onto the person outside of the ring. Only, he missed his mark and went flying into me. He knocked me off my feet in more ways than one.

Medics took me behind the scenes to get checked up on as the matches resumed. They were going to take me to the ER, because it looked like I had gotten a concussion. I had no friends with me because for some dumb reason I went by myself tonight. Everyone else was busy with school work, but I had made sure my schoolwork was done before I came here tonight. 

Kenny had heard that I was back here and came rushing back there to make sure I was okay. He said he felt horrible for the botched move he did. I am not exactly sure what I told him, but my memory is hazy from that night, but I remember him there. I remember him deciding to come with me because I had no one else to go with me. He waited in the waiting room while they looked at my head and made sure I got home okay. 

“You know, a girl like you shouldn’t be out here alone.” He had told me while we were outside my dorm room. 

I shook my head, “I should know better, but I really wanted to see the matches tonight. I didn’t think I would actually be in the matches.” 

He smiled and chuckled softly at my joke. “You are really a dedicated fan.” 

“Yes, I guess I didn’t grow up with wrestling like my roommates. I want to see what I missed all these years. I really love it.” 

He nodded and leaned in, “You know, I have to say, you are the cutest girl I have ever fallen on while doing that move.” My cheeks darkened as the blood rushed to them. Was he actually saying this to me? I couldn’t believe my ears. 

He slipped me a number into my hands before kissing my cheek. “I hope your boyfriend doesn’t mind me doing that.” 

“I don’t have one.”

“All the better.” He said with a sweet smile before he left me standing there. 

I texted him the next day, not even waiting as long as everyone told me to. He asked me out to dinner to make up for the concussion and I agreed. Just like that the rest was history. 

Kenny and I were really happy together. The hardest part used to be the long distance we had while I finished school and he traveled. He wouldn’t let me quit though. He said it would all be worth it some day. He made that promise to me and it seemed like it was fulfilled when he was able to get me a writing job with absolutely no experience in writing. He made sure that we would never spend days apart like we used and everything was perfect or so I thought. It wasn’t until the night that he won the belt from Jon Moxley. 

---

I was running to go congratulate Kenny on winning the belt when someone stopped me in my tracks. It was Don. He was part of Kenny’s new gimmick to help merge some people with impact into AEW. I had met him once before and he rubbed me the wrong way. He really did now with his hand in the air stopping me. “Kenny is busy right now.” “He can’t be too busy for his girlfriend,” I said crossing my arms. Kenny was never too busy for me. He always made time for me. Don scoffed and rolled his eyes, but let me pass through anyway. I smiled as I passed through and saw Kenny sitting there. “Kenny,” I said, opening my arms with a hug, but he didn’t hug back. “What’s wrong?” 

He didn’t look at me. “What’s wrong? What’s wrong, she asks. Like you don’t know what’s wrong. You have still been helping Jon write promos.” 

“He just asks me to go over a few things with me. Just like some of the other guys do. Adam still does at times. Jon basically writes his own and just asks me how it sounds. I don’t see the problem.” 

“The problem is, girl,” Don interjected. “Where do your loyalties lie?” 

“Excuse me?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at Don. “I am doing my job. It is the one that you wanted me hired on for, Kenny,” I pointed out. “I don’t get what the big deal is about me working with Jon or how it is any different from any other guy on the roster.” 

“Little girl,” Don started, but Kenny stopped him. 

“Let me talk with her about it alone.” He said as he took my hand and led me to the corner. I bit my lip. I didn’t like where this was going. Kenny never had a problem with me working around other men before, so why now? Why Jon? It couldn’t be just because they had a rivalry on the show. That was planned to be over soon.  

“I don’t want you helping Jon anymore. He can do great promos on his own. We are supposed to be against each other. It looks bad with you helping him if others see that they might think something of us up. Besides, he might be using you. You know, as a way to get into my head. He is just using you to get to me. He might think that he can use you as a way to get me jealous or something stupid like that.” My mouth dropped at his words, “What, you don’t think he would actually ask for my help otherwise?” I couldn’t help the small tinge that his words made me feel. Kenny shook his head, “You're a great writer in all, but he has said a million times he doesn’t want writers' help with his promos. Why would he pick you out of all the writers to help?  I think it’s better if you stay away before you end up getting hurt in this mess.” 

I shook my head. I didn’t want to believe the words he was saying. Jon treated me like a friend. It was no lie, I had been a huge fan of his when I found him during my research of the WWE. I might have developed a small crush on him. The fact remained he was married and I was with Kenny. It was nothing more than a harmless friendship where we help each other. “I don’t think Jon is using me to get to you. Maybe he is actually genuine. Maybe he actually likes my writing.” 

“That man doesn’t have a genuine bone in his body.” Kenny sneered. “Whatever he made you think is a lie.” “Why are you acting so jealous, Kenny?” This wasn’t like Kenny at all. I didn’t know what was going on here, but whoever this man was it wasn’t Kenny.

Kenny cocks his head to the side, “Is there something I need to be jealous of? I am just trying to protect your feelings here. I know what a big fan of his you were and it's easy to get caught up in, but is there something I need to be jealous of now?” His eyes darkened a bit as he looked at me. “

“Of course not. He’s married.” I snapped. “Why do I need protecting? I can take care of myself.” “I don’t care if he’s married or  not. If there is something I need to concern myself with tell me!” Kenny hissed. 

“No, Kenny, you are acting ridiculous.” This was so out of character of him to be like this. He never cared who I was around before. I could be around tons of different guys and he never cared. Why now? And why with Jon?

“I gotta have you on my side, (Y/N),” Kenny told me. “You’re my number one girl and I want to show you off. I have plans of you coming out with me on stage.” He wrapped his arm around me. 

“Why?” I asked. He had never wanted me part of his act before. Why would having the belt make any different. I looked down at my outfit. I wasn’t exactly wearing something you could go out on stage with. It was office casual at best. “What would I wear?” 

“Don,” He called Don back. “Show her the outfit.” He said snapping his fingers. Don nodded as he pulled out the outfit. My mouth dropped. It wasn’t a bad outfit by any means. It just wasn’t..something I would wear. It was a tight black dress that was very short with black sparkly pumps.

“Uh, babe, I like it, but it’s not something I would wear.” I said biting my lip. Heels and me had never done good together and that dress was so short. I was nervous that I was going to embarrass myself on national tv. 

“Come on, you will look great in it.” He said with a smile. “Go try it on for me.” 

I sighed and did that to make him happy even though I was not in this dress at all. I did my best to walk in the heels but my ankles bent all around in them. It was not comfortable at all. 

Did I wear it for Kenny that Wednesday night? Yes, of course I did. I allowed him to show me off as well like I was some trophy wife with his new belt. I didn’t know who I hated more, the belt or Don for changing Kenny. Kenny never cared what I wore. He never wanted me to dress up so he could show me off. He was proud of who I was and wouldn’t have ever made me wear that dress. 

I left Kenny in catering to go get some air after his bit with the belt. I leaned against the wall and slid my way down to the ground, kicking off my shoes as I did. I didn’t mean to start crying. It kind of just happened. Kenny was acting like an asshole and I just wanted the Kenny I loved back. I would have been fine if this was just an act on stage, but he was changing off stage too. 

“Hey,” came a voice. I looked up to see Jon come out of a puff of smoke. “You know crying in the alleyway isn’t the best idea.” He said sitting down next to me. He let out a slight groan as he got down. I rolled my eyes at him. “I would hate to see what would have happened if it wasn’t me that stumbled onto you. Now, what's wrong, kitten?” He asked me. I don’t understand why, but anytime he called me kitten butterflies flew around in my stomach and a small smile came on my face. 

“Nothing, it’s just Kenny is being...an asshole.” I sighed. “He doesn’t want me working with you anymore.” Jon raised an eyebrow at me. “Why not?” He asked. 

I shrugged, “You are using me as a way to get in his head to make him jealous.” 

Jon let out a low chuckle. “Oh, wow.” He shook his head before taking another puff of his cigarette. “I didn’t know he thought that little of me. I don’t use people. I work with you, because you actually have good ideas unlike some of the other crap writers they got around here.” I let out a small giggle. “So, you aren’t using me?” I asked him. 

“No! I would never use someone just to make someone jealous and if I wanted to make Kenny jealous.” He looked over at me, but his eyes didn’t meet mine. They were looking down at me in the dress. “It wouldn’t have gone like that.” His eyes met back up to mine. “Besides, I think you need to reevaluate who is using who here. That’s a nice dress, but it doesn’t seem like you.” 

I shook my head. “No, I hate it. I don’t mind skirts or dresses, but I can’t wear heels and it felt like he was showing me off like a trophy. Like look guys, I have a hot young girlfriend you wish you had. I don’t like that side of him. He used to like me for who I was not because he could show me off.” I said letting another tear fall. Jon reached up with his rough and calloused thumb and wiped it away. “Thank you, Jon.” I said resting my head on his hard shoulder.

“For what?” He asked. 

“For being my friend and not using me.” I said. We sat there in silence for a bit before Jon spoke again. 

Well, he opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Before I knew it his lips were crashing onto mine. I couldn’t believe it. My heart did somersaults as his scent hit my nose. Cigarettes and mint. A spark hit me as we kissed. Something I never felt kissing anyone before. That was how my affair with Jon Moxley all began. He kissed me in a dirty alley and after that we couldn’t get enough.

#jon moxley #jon moxley smut #jon moxley x reader #jon moxley fanfiction #jon moxley x y/n #Kenny Omega #kenny omega x reader

[justmypartner]

Make it Work: Chapter 2

Summary: When offered a permanent position with the FBI, Hailey agrees to take it under one condition: Jay comes too. As their personal lives and work lives begin to change, the two partners find it increasingly difficult to navigate their complex relationship and manage their feelings for one another.

Writer’s Note: The goodbye chapter! I’m adding an endnote to this chapter, so look out for that! This is my first chapter with a tag list, so feel free to reach out if you would like to be added!

Tagging: @angelsjedi​

Read on AO3 or below

Jay sat on the bench in the locker room playing with the zipper on his bag. He bit the inside of his cheek, distracted by the pulsing drip of the faucet in the corner. A few days ago, he had a video conference with the agent in charge of the task-force. They were able to build a rapport, and he officially accepted the offer. The meeting went well and the two hit it off immediately, bonding over their backgrounds in the military. That part went over easy, but they still needed to break the news to the team. He thought over all of his time with Intelligence and the many memories he had made over the years. Telling their family they were leaving was going to be difficult. He had been so lost in thought he didn’t even notice Hailey walk in.

“Nervous?” She asked, as she poked her head around the corner of the lockers, startling Jay slightly.

“Eh not nervous.. nostalgic maybe. Just thinking a lot about the different memories I’ve made here,” he said, looking up at Hailey with a half-smile.

“End of an era,” she replied, shooting him a sympathetic grin. “C’mon, let’s catch him before he heads home,” she told him, nodding her head towards the door.

When the two knocked on the door frame of Voight’s office, he immediately ushered them in with a small wave. He stood to his feet as they both entered the space, shutting the door behind them. He sent them both a puzzled look as silence filled the room like something they could reach out and touch.

“Okay, what’s going on you two?” He questioned, urging them to explain the unplanned meeting.

“Sarge, we have some news for you,” Hailey told him, pausing briefly as she mentally prepared her next words. “I know I haven’t said much about my time with the FBI, but it was actually much more beneficial than I could have ever imagined. Since I’ve been back in Chicago, they have been reaching out to me about maybe making it a permanent thing. It all started out as hypothetical conversations, but last week I got an official offer to work on a joint-level task-force. It’s in New York, and I’ve decided to accept it,” she said, her eyes meeting his then immediately finding their way to the floor. Jay took the silence as an opportunity to further the news.

“They also extended the offer to me, and I’m going to be taking it as well,” he admitted, his gaze holding steady with Voight’s.

He was silent for a moment. They noticed his tongue poking around in his cheek as his stare fell to the floor. They gave each other a small glance before looking back at their Sergeant, desperately waiting for his reaction.

“When do you leave?” He asked them, a familiar levelness in his voice.

“Two weeks, sir,” Jay responded back.

“You’re going to be working on the task-force together?” He asked, pacing the floor behind his desk, looking up as he listened for their response.

“Yes, Sarge,” Hailey told him.

“Sounds like a great opportunity. I’m happy for you both,” he said with a slight nod. The partners cut their eyes at one another, silently questioning their boss’s response.

“Uh, that’s all?” Jay questioned, expecting a bigger reaction out of the Sergeant.

“Look, I’m not going to stop you from an opportunity like this. The feds do great work and you both are talented at what you do. I’ve watched your partnership develop over the years, and it’s undeniable the connection you two have. You work well together, plain and simple,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “This unit has endured a lot of loss and a lot of pain these past few years. Losing you both, my only detectives, it’s going to leave a pretty significant scar on this unit, but we’ll figure it out like we always do. You both have carried your positions well and you’ve even helped me learn a few things along the way. I like to think that the learning went both ways, and I hope you’re able to apply your time here out there. It won’t be the same without you two, but I am grateful to have watched you both grow into what you are today,” he finished, shifting his focus between the two detectives.

Jay noticed tears in Hailey’s eyes as he felt a sting in his own, fighting back emotion. Hailey walked forward, embracing the Sergeant tightly as she whispered her thanks to him. As they pulled away, Jay reached his hand out. Voight grabbed his hand, wrapping his other arm around Jay’s back in an embrace.

“Thank you, Sarge.. for everything,” he said softly as the man nodded his head.

“Look out for each other,” he told them on their way out of his office. They looked at each other, a silent affirmation being sent between them before nodding and walking towards the stairs.

The next day they went in to work early. They stopped to pick up coffee and donuts for everyone, hoping it would soften the blow as they delivered the news to the rest of the team. Hailey had brought in donuts on her first day, so she saw it fitting to bring them again as she said goodbye.

It was quiet in the bullpen that early in the morning. Hailey’s eyes darted across her computer screen as she checked her email. Jay was sat on the corner of her desk, looking over at her focused frown, an expression of hers he had grown endeared by. He noticed her index finger nervously tapping the table top, the sound seeming much louder in the quiet room.

“Uh, can you not do that?” Jay asked teasingly, brows furrowing together as he squinted over at her ticking finger.

“Uh, can you get your own desk?” She challenged back.

“Your desk and my butt have developed a very close relationship over the years. I’m only spending my last days preserving that relationship,” he replied smugly.

“That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” she said through laughs, crumpling a piece of paper from her desk and throwing it at him.

Just as he was about to throw it back at her, muffled voices and laughter filled the stairwell. The two of them stood, making their way to Kevin’s desk where they had put the coffee and donuts. They also put the case board beside the desk, with the words “Courtesy of the FBI” written across it.

“Good Mo- What’s this about?” Adam asked with a look of confusion, stopping in his tracks on the stairs. Kim and Kevin stopped alongside him, sharing similar expressions. The two partners just stood there, weakly smiling at their colleagues. The three of them remained on the stairs, silently trying to piece together what was going on. As they hesitantly continued their way up into the bullpen, the smiles on Hailey and Jay’s faces faded as they prepared to give their friends the news.

“We have to tell you something,” Hailey said quietly. She looked over at Jay who looked back with a nod before taking over.

“We have both been offered positions with the FBI. The positions are in New York, and we’ve decided to take them,” he said, flinching slightly as if the words were going to come back and hit him in the face.

They were all silent a moment, letting the information process.

“Wait, so you’re going together?” Adam asked, raising a brow. They nodded in response. The 3 officers locked eyes, sharing a guileful look between one another.

“How dare you leave me with these two,” Kim finally said, pointing at Adam and Kevin. The two shot her offended looks. “I’m just kidding. Congrats you guys, that’s such a great opportunity. We’re really going to miss you, though,” she told them, wrapping an arm around Hailey and Jay’s necks to bring them into a group hug.

“Man, I didn’t know the FBI did package deals. We better keep ourselves open,” Kevin said looking over at Adam with a laugh before hugging the two detectives.

“When are you guys leaving?” Adam asked as he hugged the two.

“Two weeks,” Hailey told him.

“Okay, well we’re throwing a party at Molly’s before you go,” he insisted, Kim and Kevin nodding in agreement.

- - - -

Despite incessant protests from Jay and Hailey, their friends demanded there be a going away party. So two weeks later, the day before their flights, what seemed like half of Chicago met at Molly’s to send them off. The night was long as they made their rounds saying goodbye to all of their friends from Med, 51, and the 21st. As the night went on and many headed home, Jay finally got a moment to himself at a table in the back. From the corner of his eye, he noticed a familiar red-head making his way over towards him.

“So, Agent Halstead, how ya feeling?” Will questioned, sliding himself onto the chair across from Jay.

“Stop it,” Jay replied starkly, bringing the beer he had been nursing for the past hour to his lips.

“What? That is what they’re going to call you right?” Will questioned with a chuckle.

“You know what I’m going to miss the least about Chicago?” He asked his brother with a raised brow.

“What’s that?”

“Your ugly mug,” Jay teased.

“Oh, yeah right. You wish you got my looks.”

Jay glowered at him, his eyes catching the attention of a familiar blonde at the bar. She was sitting with Trudy who had her locked in what looked like a pretty deep conversation. He noticed the way Hailey’s hand rested under her chin and the way her dimple would appear every now and then as she’d flash a grin. He snapped out of this gaze when Will called his name from across the table.

“Earth to Jay?” Will questioned with a smirk.

“Yeah- sorry, what?” Jay asked, bringing his attention back to his brother.

“I was just- when did that happen between you two anyway?” He asked, turning his attention over his shoulder to look at Hailey.

“What? You got it wrong, man. Nothing happened. We’re friends.. partners,” Jay said, taking a sip of his drink.

“Yeah, right. I know you, and I know how much you could care less about New York. I mean how many times did you visit me when I was there?” He asked, holding up his hand to count on his fingers. “Oh, that’s right. None. Now you’re willingly moving there for a job with the feds? You’re not doing this for you, you’re doing it for her. Not that I blame you because I see the way you two look at each other, but c’mon at least admit it to yourself,” Will said straightly, causing Jay to shift slightly in his chair.

“Shut up,” Jay scowled, earning a light head shake from his brother.

“Whatever. I’ll leave you with this, don’t wait too long to figure out whatever it is that’s going on there. I haven’t had much luck in the dating game, but I do know that nobody has ever looked at me the way that girl looks at you. There was a time when you once told me to get it together. Now I’m telling you to take your own advice. Don’t screw that one up, dummy,” Will told him. Jay just shook his head at him, standing to hug his brother.

“I am going to miss you,” Jay told him as he wrapped his arms around him.

“Yeah, I guess I’ll miss you too, brother,” Will said, pounding a light fist against the man’s back. “I love you, little bro,” Will told him as he grabbed his jacket to head out.

“Yeah, yeah love you too,” Jay responded back as he stood, finishing off the last sip of his beer. As Will made his way out of the bar, Jay prepared to head out as well. He made his way over to Hailey before stepping out.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt-“ he got out before Trudy cut him off.

“If you were really sorry, you wouldn’t have interrupted. I know leaving me is breaking your heart, but you’re going to have to get over it eventually,” Trudy teased in her typical sarcastic tone. Jay flashed her a toothy smile.

“Aw Trudy Platt, I’m going to miss you the most of all,” he told her, leaning forward to place a brief kiss on her cheek.

“Jay Halstead, my husband is right over there, you’d better watch yourself,” she replied, pushing on his chest. He threw his hands up jokingly and backed away slightly.

“Anyway, Hailey, do you need a ride home? I’m heading out,” he asked her.

“No, I’m okay. Kept the drinking pretty tame tonight, thanks though,” she responded.

“Didn’t offer me a ride home,” Trudy said, raising her brows at him. He shook his head with a laugh, part of him already missing her antics.

“I’m not even touching that one,” he said with a smirk. “Anyway, goodnight ladies. Sarge, I really am going to miss you,” he told her leaning in for one last hug.

“Yeah, yeah, you too Romeo,” she replied, hugging him back. Hailey giggled lightly throughout the interaction, telling him goodnight back as he made his way towards the door.

As he reached the door, he turned back to see the two in deep conversation once again. He couldn’t help but wonder what had them so engaged, but he continued outside to head home. As he walked to his car, he thought back on Will’s advice. He knew he had a point, but he also knew it wasn’t the right time to figure that out just yet. Regardless, he drove home that night with a million what ifs bouncing around in his head.

Endnote: For starters, let’s take a moment to mourn deskstead rip lol. I just wanted to add this as a reminder that I’m writing in third-person limited, so we’re going to be somewhat left in the dark when it comes to Hailey’s perspective unless she outwardly expresses it. For that reason, I want to highlight that conversation between Hailey and Trudy. What could they have been discussing hmm.. Keep that in the back of your mind for now as it may just prove important later on ;) Anyway, thank you so much for reading!!

#upstead #jay x hailey #hailey x jay #jay halstead #hailey upton #chicago pd #upstead fic

[ayoalex]

Ok so, been talking with a friend about the last chapter and we all come to the conclusion that separating team RWBY after getting them together would be kinda stupid (not that it can't happen tho).

So, I think they are going to fall together and what we see in the opening it's probably the order of how they are going to fall, make sense doesn't it? If the heart falls then the rest of the team are bound to fall too.

Them falling needs a purpose, maybe something they will learn about this entire thing, the Gods, Salem, Ozpin, etc. But it needs the development of an arc... In this case 2 arcs.

You see, Blake and Weiss arcs about healing, etc are coming to an end but Ruby and Yang are barely starting.

This is quite ironic because Blake and Weiss needed space to be able to grow, to learn better about themselves, who they are, how do they want to do things, they need that time to reflect, to break (in some way) free.

Blake had someone helping her; Sun; and that at the same time helped with Illia, this was all a need for Blake to break free of Adam toxicity.

Then Weiss had in some way help from Klein but unlike Blake, Weiss needed to do it absolutely alone, she needed to be able to embrace being alone and face authorities while Blake problem was embracing NOT being alone.

All of this had to happen without Yang and Ruby there but the sisters arc is different.

Yang and Ruby needs to show vulnerability, to be able to process their feelings, work with them and express them and for that they need people that could call them out, that can be there for the process, that understand and can help them with it.

This is mostly because Yang and Ruby problems aren't about a single person but literally about so many stuffs that happen even before they were born.

They need a talk as well, there's been a riff between them, their communication is not as good as when they were in Beacon and that's basically because of Ruby and Yang (the fucking irony).

Ruby internalized things, she's been taking all the damage of being the leader, she's not letting herself just process and heal.

Yang, even though she got better, hasn't grief, she hasn't been able to actually be vulnerable. Then there's the issue that Raven has been right about EVERYTHING and that's probably fucking up her mind right now.

This is basically the right moment for them to NOT do what team STRQ did, to not do their mistakes and triumph.

Anyway, i think we are getting a volume all about RWBY, their teamwork, their issues and finally the beginning of Yang and Ruby arc + isn't this when the protagonists leave to come back stronger? Welp, that's probably what we getting

#rwby #ruby rose #blake belladonna #yang xiao long #bumbleby #weiss schnee #team rwby

[redvoid-40]

A Game for a Kiss

Don’t ask me where this came from. I’ve watched BSD a couple months ago and of course I got the hots for the feral rat-man. -.-

Anyway, slowly I came up with a little plot for an arc with some OCs (weird calling them OCs, when they’re all named after past writers but oh well) and even thought about developing it, but since I’m not in the mood to write a whole multi-chaptered fic, I decided to just write this interaction between Fyodor and my main OC for the BSD-universe, Mary Shelley. You know, as a treat. >.<

I know the fandom is super small, but I thought someone might enjoy this, so here it is! :)

Also, Fyodor might be OOC (it’s hard to get a full understanding of his character) but I see him as creepy-pretty, with no qualms in manipulating women in ways that border on dub-con. So... TW: some making out; Fyodor’s thoughts making it clear his morals are more twisted than a pretzel. 

Anyway, enjoy! :)

Part 1 / Part 2 (NSFW) / Part 3 (NSFW)

“How about a game?” Fyodor proposed, smiling from ear to ear as he moved a chessboard from the side table to the coffee table in front of them. It was small, with tiny and expensive crystal pieces that had a purely decorative role, but he had never minded playing with valuable and irreplaceable things before, so why start now? Much worse to die of boredom than to shatter a hundred-dollar pawn. “I heard you had quite the reputation at the Chess Club in Oxford.”

“It’s been a few years since I last played,” Mary admitted as placed her glass of anise-infused gin on the coffee table and reached out to touch the white king, as if she was caressing a long-lost lover. “Not sure I’ll be a worthy opponent to you, Mr Dostoevsky.”

“How about I give you some impetus then?” Fyodor asked, raising a sole eyebrow as Mary’s eyes shone with interest. “If you win, I’ll give you something. Something I know you want from me.”

Mary quickly pulled back, like a child caught with her hand in the cookie-jar. “You’re already doing so, and I’m eternally grateful for it. Helping me retrieve Adam and right my wrong is all I could ever hope for and more, Mr Dostoevsky. There’s nothing el-”

“A kiss.”

Fyodor’s smile widened and his eyes darkened as a pink dusted over Mary’s cheeks. Her dark eyes made it hard to discern her emotions, but if he were to guess, Fyodor would bet her pupils had doubled in size at his indiscretion.

“I can feel your gaze on me, Doctor Shelley. Every time I walk in a room, your eyes peruse my figure like I’m an appetising treat,” Fyodor spoke, feet planted on the floor as he projected his body forwards, elbows on spread knees and the fingers of his hands intertwined. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think you are interested in me in a way that’s not entirely professional or proper.”

Mary reached for her lowball glass and quickly brought it to her lips, downing the rest of her gin in a way that also wasn’t professional or proper. Fyodor watched her throat move, amused and admitedly a bit impressed at the pace at which she was draining her gin, wondering if maybe he should have proposed a drinking game instead. Who would fare better, her with her gin infusions or him with his chilled vodka?

“... and if I lose?”

Fyodor blinked, lazily trailing his eyes up her chin, passing by her pouting lips, blushing cheeks and up to dark eyes that stared at him so attentively. Lips curled at the corners, he raised a single eyebrow, urging Mary to continue.

“If I lose the game, what would you demand as compensation?” She clarified, and Fyodor exhaled at how she pressed her thighs together beneath her knee-length, black skirt.

“I’m not sure,” Fyodor said. “Why don’t you let me decide later? If I win the game, that is.”

Mary’s eyes turned away from his, moving down to gaze at the empty glass in her hands as some luster in her eyes darkened into distrust. “I think I’ll pass on your offer, Mr Dostoevsky. A kiss for an IOU? Your proposition doesn’t sound fair to me.”

Fyodor retreated, letting his spine fall comfortably against the back of the sofa as an airy laugh left his lips. The woman wasn’t as foolish as he had expected, at least; despite admitting in all but words she was enamoured with him, her shackles remained raised, certain she couldn’t trust him as far as she could throw him.

Must be a woman’s intuition, Fyodor thought, remembering the looks he so often received from the fairer sex throughout his late adolescence and adult life. So many inviting smiles were thrown his way, only to morph into barely veiled jitters when he got close enough to touch. For all his years of manipulating the brightest of the brightest to have his way, Fyodor still hadn’t figured out how to lull women into unravelling themselves for him without promises of money - or some other stimulant - as reward.

“If I win I vow not to abuse my freedom, and will only ask for something of equivalent value to what I offer,” Fyodor proposed, lips relaxing in a smile he hoped Mary deemed trustworthy. “And if you feel I ask too much, you can deny me and I’ll give up my reward altogether. Does that sound fair, Doctor Shelley?”

Mary looked at him through lowered lashes and he could almost hear the gears turning in her head, lust and reason rotating in opposing directions in a struggle to decide.

“Fair enough,” Mary spoke at last, and placed her glass back on the coffee table. Her hand then moved to the chessboard and spun it around so the white pieces were close to her. “But I play white.”

Fyodor almost protested, but the smile Mary threw his way demanded enough endearment that he’d allow her this little bit of despotism just this once. 

He found he rather liked it.

---

To Fyodor’s surprise and satisfaction, Mary proved herself to be a worthy opponent. For the first time in years, Fyodor stood over a chessboard with furrowed eyebrows as he macerated the pad of his thumb between his teeth to the point he could taste iron on his tongue.

“Don’t do that. You’re hurting yourself.” 

Fyodor had just moved his knight when a hand seemed to appear out of nowhere and gently wrapped around his wrist to guide his thumb out of his mouth. Purple eyes narrowed, shooting up from the board to Mary, but his scowl melted into something almost benign at finding the woman hunched over the board, positively pouting. Her hand released his wrist, leaving an imprint of heat on his flesh despite not touching skin, and floated back to her, fingers twitching as they hovered over her pieces, debating their next move.

There was a brief knock on the doors before they opened and in walked Ivan, pulling Fyodor’s attention just in time to see the narrowing of his silver eyes as they fell on the back of Mary’s head. The glare disappeared as soon as it came, so when Mary turned around to greet the newcomer with a polite smile, he responded with an enormous grin and flamboyant mannerisms.

“I’ve come to check upon you, see if everything was alright,” Ivan announced as he stood behind Mary, silver eyes fixed on Fyodor with adoration. “It’s almost midnight.”

Mary’s eyes widened in surprise as she reached for the phone she had forgotten on the cushion by her side. “Oh my, there are twenty calls from Jane. I really should take this thing off silent mode.”

Fyodor’s jaw tightened as Mary’s focus shifted from their match to her phone. “Ivan,” he called with a firm voice that demanded to be the centre of attention again. “Please, let Doctor Shelley’s companions know she is safe and sound with me, and that we’re both occupied at the moment. Also, would you be so kind to have someone bring us something to eat? Something sugary would be best. I will have a drink as well. Vodka, chilled but no ice,” then he lowered his eyes back to the woman in front of him and smiled as he motioned to her empty glass. “Doctor Shelley, would you care for another?”

“Ah, I-”

“A gin for the lady, Ivan. Thank you.”

Ivan’s smile didn’t falter as he bowed his head. “Of course, I’ll have someone bring your drinks. As for sweets, I believe there are a few strawberry shortcakes in the fridge. Would that be to your liking?”

This time, Fyodor remained silent as he stared at Mary, giving her the illusion she had a say in this whole matter, that she could choose her treat in the way she couldn’t choose to refuse a drink. 

Mary’s eyes were glued to his and once again he noticed how her thighs rubbed together at his attention, leaving her phone forgotten by her side. Blushing, she craned her neck to glance at Ivan and nodded. “That would be lovely, thank you.”

“Very well. Someone will bring everything here briefly,” Ivan said, moving his eyes back to Fyodor. “If you need me-”

“We will be fine,” Fyodor dismissed, purple eyes fixed on Mary as he gave her a smile that showed too many teeth. “I believe it’s your turn, Doctor Shelley?”

Mary nodded, turning her gaze to the chessboard. Her hand hovered while her brain readjusted to their match, reviewing the last rounds as it calculated the best moves she could make. It took her only a couple of seconds to review their entire game and make her move.

“Good,” Fyodor said, right hand rising to his lips out of habit, only to stop midway as he felt an intense stare on him. When he looked up, Mary was giving him a look that quickly morphed into a smile when he aborted the movement. He snorted and smiled back. “Worried about my delicate fingers?”

“You’re the one who said you have an anemic constitution,” Mary replied, eyes dropping back to the board. “You shouldn’t hurt yourself; it might take longer than usual to heal.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Fyodor said, letting his eyes move up and narrow slightly at finding Ivan remained still behind Mary, staring at him with a doll-like smile on his face and wide eyes. “Ivan, our drinks?”

“Oh, of course! My apologies,” the man said before bowing theatrically. “I’ll leave you to your match. Good night!”

Fyodor nodded as Mary turned back to Ivan, throwing a polite “Good night, Mr Goncharov”, before once more focusing her attention on their game, waiting for Fyodor to take his turn. He grinned, purple eyes fixed on her as he made his move, enjoying the way Mary’s lips pouted as she concentrated.

He really was having fun playing with her.

---

The game came to its inevitable conclusion hours later, just as the sun was peeking over the horizon and the birds chirped outside the window. After a couple slices of strawberry shortcake and a few refills of vodka and gin, Fyodor let his body fall back on the sofa, smiling from ear to ear as he stared at the pouting woman in front of him.

“Check-mate, Doctor,” Fyodor purred, purple eyes darkening in satisfaction. 

Mary stared at the board for a couple more seconds, as if a solution to her defeat would present itself to her. But when none did, she sighed in acceptance as her forefinger gently laid down her king.

“Don’t beat yourself, Doctor. It was a splendid game; the best I had in years,” Fyodor commented.

“Thank you, Mr Dostoevsky. But your words don’t make defeat taste any less bitter.”

“I guess not,” Fyodor said. “Especially since I have to claim the spoils of my victory from you.”

Fyodor didn’t miss the glance Mary threw his way, clearly torn between enticed curiosity and rational diligence, clearly still wary that he hadn’t made his wants known before their game despite his guarantees. Those intelligent eyes clouded with lust made him lick his lips, and her breath hitched in response.

“I want… a kiss.”

Mary’s eyebrows shoot up. “What?”

“I promised to ask for something reasonable, didn’t I?” Fyodor mused. “What’s more fair than to ask for the very thing I offered?”

“But then… why did we play?” Mary asked, head dropped to the side.

“Well, I don’t feel like moving at the moment,” Fyodor said, letting his knees fall open as his eyes ran over the woman in front of him. “So, since you’re the one owing me a kiss, you come here and give it to me.”

Fyodor had never seen someone’s skin change colour so rapidly before, and he couldn’t help but chuckle at the bright red that bloomed all over the pale skin on Mary’s cheeks and neck. Without thinking, he brought his left thumb to his mouth, nibbling gently on the soft flesh as he regarded the woman with his own sort of unprofessional and improper interest.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” she said, eyeing the contour of his lips around his digit.

“Come and stop me,” he replied.

Mary swallowed his words with the same relish she swallowed her gin as she stood from the sofa, taking a moment to straighten the fabric of her pleated skirt, before walking towards him with soft, elegant steps. She came around the coffee table, sparing a glance at her toppled king before her eyes fell on his widespread knees and ran up his body until they reached his face. And while Fyodor was used to such appreciative looks, he didn’t expect the soft smile she gave him when their gazes crossed; it was usually at this moment that women stepped back from him, frightened by the intensity in his eyes.

Mary sat down by his left, so warm against the side of his body, and reached up with both hands to pull his thumb away from the abuse of his teeth. She brought his hand down to her chest to examine the damage, pouting when she saw the pad of his thumb was red and swollen, with a small laceration that had just barely crusted over and still threatened to bleed.

Fyodor watched her through half-lidded eyes, exhaling deeply when she glanced up at him. From such close-quarters he could make out the limits between the black of her pupils and the brown of her irises; just like he imagined, her pupils were dilated to extremes, wary of and eager for him. The red on her cheeks subsided, leaving a light pink colour in its place that enticed him to run his lips over the skin.

With a small quirk of her lips, Mary glanced back at his hand and shook her head at the damage on his thumb, before bringing it to her mouth to kiss the wound. The touch was soft as a rose’s petal but still knocked the breath out of Fyodor’s lungs. His warm breath gusted over the top of her head, then hitched as a soft, warm hand laid on his cheek.

“That was not what I had in mind when I asked for a kiss,” Fyodor spoke, smiling down at the woman. 

A chuckle escaped Mary and once again she gave him that soft look he was unfamiliar with. Before he could taunt her further, Mary tilted her head and guided his face down, letting her lips ghost over a corner of his mouth before moving to the other, soft and sweet. Hypnotised, Fyodor’s eyelids fluttered shut as he relaxed into these teasing touches that, despite being feather-light in their delicacy, made heat rush in his veins like molten metal, erupting out of his heart to his cock and leaving a trail of feverish desire in his veins that demanded more. More contact, more kisses, more pressure.

Fyodor pushed forwards, folding his body over Mary as his hand reached out to grab the back of her neck, only to freeze mid-air as her cold air took the place of her warm flesh. Somewhere he heard an unholy sound, and only after he opened his dark purple yes to find startled brown staring back at him he noticed he was the source of it. He was growling.

In a fraction of a second, Fyodor wondered about the stage he had set for them. Had he misjudged her interest? Hadn’t he offered her enough drinks? How much did she need his help? How much did he need her and her companions? How far could he push? Was everyone in the house still asleep? If she screamed, would anyone come to help?

Brown eyes narrowed slightly and Fyodor swore he saw a glimpse of himself in them; of something aware, astute, and artful. It was there for a moment so short he wasn’t sure he had projected the connection, so before he could let his brain process it, he was once more being subjugated to that look. That nauseatingly soft look no one had ever given him before, and that he did not know what to do with.

Without words, Mary bent the rules of their game and took his turn from him, cancelled aggression with tenderness as she pushed him back against the sofa gently before swinging her leg over his lap to settle herself on his thighs, pulling a pleased hum from deep inside his chest. 

“May I?” Mary asked, hand playing with the flap of his ushanka hat.

Smiling, Fyodor nodded, and Mary pulled the hat off his head. The motion left his hair messy, drawing a giggle from her lips as she combed the knots away so gently he couldn’t help but shut his eyes and relax against the caresses. 

“Your hair is so soft,” Mary murmured, letting Fyodor smell the gin and strawberries on her breath. He felt her fingers dance on his face, collecting his long fringe to push it back and away from his features. “And you’re so beautiful.”

Fyodor’s eyes opened slightly, just enough so he could stare at the rosy lips hovering so close to his. His hands twitched by his sides, unsure where to go or how to touch. He was used to grabbing, pulling, bruising and scratching; not to soft lips or delicate touches dancing over his skin like her hands ghosted over the chess-pieces only minutes before.

Mary’s lips let out a delicious, trembling breath before moving towards him, avoiding his own mouth altogether to give a kiss on his cheek before moving to whisper into his ear: “You feel so tense. Relax.”

Easier said than done, Fyodor thought, turning his head to bury his nose in Mary’s long, black hair and breath in the scent of her shampoo - something citrusy and common that made him light-headed in a way he only felt when his anaemia got the best of him, causing him to black out and wake up stretched on a hospital bed, with an IV bag of O- blood connected to his arm. 

Still, he couldn’t possibly lose consciousness now, not with Mary’s warm body grounding him so sweetly, not with her breasts pressed against his chest and the heat between her legs trapping him against the sofa’s cushions in the best possible way. Gently, like everything she did, Mary finally laid her mouth over his, allowing a whimper to escape the back of her throat when he pressed against her, not as much as he would have liked, but enough to hold back the most violent aspects of his desires, for now.

At the contact, Fyodor’s passive hands took action, sneaking up Mary’s thighs and hips, before slipping under her blouse to rack his short nails over her naked back as he used his hold over her to press her heat harder against his cock. He half-expected her to pull back again, startled at his boldness, but Mary surprised him by letting out a delighted gasp as she tightened her grip on his hair and arched her back, pushing her breasts even more against his chest.

Fyodor took the opportunity and shoved his tongue inside her mouth, groaning as the taste of her invaded his senses. One of his hands danced over Mary’s skin, causing her to shudder as it tickled by her ribs before moving up to her-

“Oh, Dos! Are you in there? Why is the door locked?”

Nikolai’s happy-go-lucky voice breached the door’s barrier, causing Mary to pull back from their kiss, panting. Fyodor’s nails tensed over her skin before his hands relaxed again, dropping to her waist as he sighed and dropped his forehead against her collarbone.

“I guess your debt is paid, Doctor,” Fyodor spoke against her skin. “There’s work to be done.”

“Of course. I have my mission in a couple of hours as well,” Mary agreed as she pulled away to stand up on shaky legs. “It would be best if I got a couple some sleep before it.”

Fyodor glanced down at himself, at the wet spot on the crotch of his pants, and looked up at her through half-lidded eyes with a devil’s smirk. “Think you need a shower too?”

Mary blushed as she straightened her clothes in a modicum of decency. “I guess.”

Fyodor chuckled, but before he could tease her further, Nikolai’s loud voice invaded the room once more, making his eyes roll upwards in exasperation.

“Quiz time! How long until I force the door open? Two minutes? Two seconds?”

“I will leave you two alone,” Mary said. “Excuse me, Mr Dostoevsky.”

Fyodor nodded dismissively, but the look in his eyes was anything but uninterested. “I will see you later… Mary.”

The woman’s breath hitched at having her first name spoken with such heavy desire before she quickly made her escape, almost slamming against Nikolai when she unlocked the door.

“Good morning, Mr Gogol,” she said with a polite smile.

“Good morning, Mary!” He replied enthusiastically, pulling one of her hands to his lips. “What a treat to see your charming figure so early in the day! Don’t tell me Dos has summoned you at such ungodly hours to talk business?”

“Oh no, we were just having a match,” Mary said, pointing to the chessboard on the coffee table. “He wiped the floor with me.”

Nikolai took a few moments to examine the board and what he saw made him raise an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Really? Looks like a tight match to me,” he said, before turning to Mary. “Next time you should invite me so I can cheer you on! Gods, what I wouldn’t give to watch Dos lose a game…”

Mary chuckled and opened her mouth, but Fyodor beat her to the punch. “You wanted to talk, Nikolai?” He called, smiling tightly at the other Russian. “Come in and close the door behind you.”

“Hmm, grumpy,” Nikolai whispered, sharing a conspiratory smile with Mary as he once again kissed the back of her hand. “Lovely to see you, my dear.”

“You too, Mr Gogol. Have a good one,” Mary said before walking away, throwing one last smile in Fyodor’s direction.

Nikolai waved at Mary’s back as she walked away, closing the door once she turned a corner.

“You know,” Nikolai began in Russian, spinning on his heels to face Fyodor. Both men smiled, but the emotions they showed were something dark, almost cruel. “I believe this is the first time I see a woman in a room alone with you leave without tears in her eyes.”

Feet planted on the floor and knees spread, unashamed of his hard-on or the wet spot on the fabric of his pants, Fyodor hummed a little song as he reached for his hat and adjusted it back on his head. Satisfied, he reached forward and grabbed Mary’s fallen king from the board.

“Honestly, my friend,” he said, bringing the piece to his smiling lips. “I do not know what you’re talking about.”

#bsd fyodor #fyodor x reader #fyodor x you #fyodor x oc #fyodor dostoevsky #ivan goncharov #bsd #bungo stray dogs #nikolai gogol #does this piece of self-indugent writing classify as an one-shot? #even when it's so clearly part of something way bigger that will never be? #anyway i wrote what i wrote #you can't tell me fyodor doesn't give out some creepy vibes #that anime smile is a panty-dropper but also creepy af