kukukape

[kukukape]

H-holy shit 😳😳

THIS IS WHAT UBISOFT WAS AFRAID TO DO

Release - Richard Malik x GN!Reader (18+)

Is it good? No. But it's here so shut up. I promise one day I'll be able to write decent smut again.

Translation: Ya ruhi - My soul/you're my soul (rough translation)

Summary: After a couple weeks of nothing but stress, you decide to surprise your boyfriend, Richard, by wearing something a little more eye catching.

Word count: 2,474

Of course you had heard the concerns of the other operatives, but all of their words fell on deaf ears. Being in DedSec meant fighting for what you believed in, and fighting for what you wanted. Well, you decided you believed in Richard, and you wanted him bad enough to allow him to move into your flat.

It felt like a long time coming. After his release from the cell, the man had practically injected himself into your life, being your little “guardian angel” while you were out on missions, and fixing you right up whenever you got hurt. He was the only one allowed to touch you, and he let it be known early on. The glare he would cast over to any operative within a few feet of you, and how he would tug you closer to him. He never voiced any of his feelings, that much was expected of the man, but a part of you absolutely adored it. To be the one thing he actually held near and dear.

These past couple weeks had felt like hell, however. DedSec was doing their best to keep up with missions, but everyone knew they deserved a vacation. Richard was even starting to pull his own weight, and you had seen the toll it was taking on him. He was tense, more snappy, and you noticed how he was becoming more cold to the others. Never to you, though. He always did his best to put on a smile whenever you were around, and he was always more than gentle with you.

Well, tonight you decided to spoil him. Anything to get his shoulders to relax and rid him of that gray cloud that hung over his head. And what better way than to release his tension yourself?

You both had been intimate in the past, but it never went past love making. He was always so gentle and sweet, but you could tell he always held back. Something about his thrusts and the way he would occasionally snap his hips, only to falter and return to the gentle rhythm. You didn't mind it. You honestly loved those moments with him, but sometimes you craved more.

He confessed to you when you asked what he liked and what he found arousing. A whole lot of things you normally wouldn't have guessed, and all of it was hidden underneath a professional, smug front. Fishnets, stockings, collars, leashes, lingerie. The list went on, and you were more than happy to keep it all in mind.

One of the operatives, Barry, was more than happy to help you pick everything out. You didn't go overboard, though you did buy things to save for later. The choice of outfit tonight, however, was something you were both excited and nervous to try on. It was a body harness your operative managed to find, the black leather reflecting the light, along with the chains that adorned it. It wasn't something you would've picked out, but Barry promised you that Richard would love it, and you decided to take a chance.

He gave you other tips as well. Wear only the fishnets and harness, along with the choker you got, and spray on a good amount of whatever fragrance your lover liked most. And while you felt really revealing standing in front of the mirror, fussing with the harness, you decided there was no going back now. Richard would be home soon, and you were already all dressed up and looking your best.

When the lock to the front door clicked open, your heart began to race. Footsteps moved throughout the flat, slow and observant, Richard calling out your name in a curious tone. Showtime.

Opening the door to your shared bedroom, you feel the heat rise to your cheeks as he looks you over. His eyes travel up and down your body, slow and lingering. The look of surprise is quickly overpowered by lust, that familiar grin creeping onto his face as he stalks towards you.

“Well, now, what do we have here?” he breathes, reaching out to brush his knuckles against your cheek, trailing down to your jaw. His finger dances along your skin, tracing your collarbone before making his way to the harness, feeling the leather in between his index finger and thumb. “Isn't this a sight to come home to.”

“Do you like it?” You almost feel giddy, your eyes glued to his, seeing how the growing lust clouded his vision. A soft but dark chuckle escapes his lips.

“I love it, darling,” His hand moves back up, fingers curling behind your neck and bringing you in for a kiss. Your whole body felt like it was on fire as you brought your hands up to rest them on his chest. It always amazed you how this man made you feel, after everything you had been through.

He's moving you back and into the bedroom, his hands mapping out your familiar body, dull nails gently scratching on the way down. You gasp when he grabs your rear, giving a playful squeeze, and he takes this opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth, exploring every inch he can. And when he finally pulls back, his grin is still present on his face.

“So good for me,” One more peck to your lips. “How about you show me what that pretty mouth of yours can do?”

You sink down to your knees, reaching up to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. You knew he loved watching you, always catching his eyes cast down on your face. Leaning forward, you press soft kisses to his growing erection through his boxers, hearing a soft hum reverberate in his throat. Your hands slide up his thighs, fingers curling around both the edge of his pants and boxers. Tugging down, you watch his cock spring free. There's already a bead of precum forming at the tip, and when you lean forward, you let your tongue dart out to lap it up. Holding your gaze with Richard's, you lower yourself even more, starting from the base of his shaft and licking all the way up to the tip, using one of your hands to keep his cock in place. You repeat this action a few times before finally closing your mouth around the head, starting a slow and shallow bob, taking more and more in.

His hand finds its way to your hair, fingers tangling in your locks and just resting at first. You could feel his fingers flex a few times, but he was always like this; always held back. Taking a deep breath, you force yourself down, taking as much of him as you can. The way he sucks air in through his teeth is more than rewarding, and he finally grips your hair to keep you in that position. He moves with you when you pull back, eyes lidded and dark as he stares down at you.

“Let go for tonight,” you tell him with a smile, using your hand to spread your saliva down the rest of his shaft, making it easier to stroke the skin. “I think it's time you stop holding back.”

“Are you sure, darling?” As sweet as always, he bends down to press a kiss to your lips. “I don't want to hurt you.”

“I'll be fine.”

The confirmation coming from you seemed to do it, and you could almost see something snap in his eyes. The grip on your hair tightened as he lifts you up, only to shove you back towards the bed. The plush mattress catches your fall when the back of your knees hit the bed, and Richard is on you in a second. He's pulling you into a heated kiss, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth as he removes his coat and works on undoing his tie. You reach up to help him undress, fumbling with the buttons on his dress shirt and hastily helping him to take the garment off. Your hands are on him when his body is exposed, toned and decorated with the faded scars.

Before you know it, two fingers are slipping into your mouth, and you obey the command when he breathes it out, sucking on the digits and swirling your tongue around them. His lips are on your jawline now, pressing hot kisses anywhere he could reach, along with the occasional nip to your skin. Everything was new and electrifying.

When he retracted his fingers from you, he pulls back. The hungry look in his eyes almost makes you want to curl in on yourself, but the constant reminder that this wasn't your first time together made you feel a bit better. His hands reach down, fingers curling around the fishnets. A sharp tug emits a ripping sound, right outside of your entrance, and a soft gasp escapes your lips.

“You're being so good for me,” he purrs, his wet fingers rubbing at your entrance and pulling soft mewls from you. He leans down, pressing his lips to yours. “I want to hear you, love. Tell me how badly you want me.”

“Please, sir,” Oh, there's a twinkle in his eyes when that word comes out of you. “Please, I need you so badly. I've wanted this all day.”

“Oh, have you now?” A finger pushes inside of you slowly. Richard's towering over you now, his forearm planted on the bed so he can hold himself up, his eyes admiring your face. It's a familiar sensation; he was always slow and gentle when preparing you, peppering soft kisses to your face, especially when he finally adds his second finger. You're arching your back, moaning softly and reaching up to pull him closer and into a needy kiss, your hand finding its way to his hair, your fingers tangling in his soft, black locks.

The feeling of loss is heavy when he finally removes his fingers from you, and a soft whine escapes your lips.

“Shh, darling,” He's positioning himself right outside your entrance, his thumb stroking your cheek. “You tell me to stop if you want me to, okay?”

You started nodding even before he could finish his statement. Your back arches and your toes curl when you feel him push himself inside of you, a soft groan sounding out from the man.

“So good,” Richard stills himself when he's fully inside, burying his face in the crook of your neck. It takes a little bit to adjust, but when you finally give him the go ahead, he pulls out just a bit, only to sink right back into your heat and pull a moan from you. The slow rhythm picks up gradually, Richard finally pulling himself away from your neck so he can sit upright. He's starting to grunt softly, eyes taking in the sight of your body as he snaps his hips forward, hands gripping underneath your thighs to keep your legs apart. It's a new position for you two to be in, Richard often enjoying the simple missionary position, saying he only wanted to be close to you. But like this, he was able to get deeper, hitting every spot inside of you. His name is falling from your lips, breathless and stuttering. Your hands grip his thighs, desperate to hold onto anything.

“Now, look at the state of you,” Richard chuckles softly, bending over so he's towering above you once more. Not once does he slow down his thrusts, and this angle allows you to hold onto the back of his neck. “Do you like this, ya ruhi? Am I making you feel good?”

“Y-yes, sir!” One of his hands slides up your thigh, trailing over your sensitive skin until his fingers brush against your sex and make you gasp. You can feel the heat building up in your stomach as he plays with you, his other hand reaching for the collar. His index finger wraps around the metal loop, tugging as he quickens his pace.

“Are you close, darling?” Your hasty nod makes him chuckle, a low rumble in his chest. “Then beg for it.”

“Please! Please, let me cum, sir! I'll do anything you say!” He's chuckling again, leaning down to press his lips against yours.

“How can I say no to that?” His fingers quicken, rubbing the most sensitive areas as his other hand releases the collar. He moves it back, fingers tangling in your hair and gripping hard, pulling your head back and exposing your neck more. “I love having you submit to me, ya ruhi.”

Another gasp escapes you when you feel his teeth nip at the skin underneath your jaw before his lips press soothing kisses to it. You're bucking against his hand, nothing but a moaning and whimpering mess.

“Cum for me, darling,” Everything is becoming too much. His husky tone, the way his fingers are stroking your sex, how deep he's thrusting into you. The knot that was building up in your stomach finally snaps as you hit your release, your eyes screwing shut and your toes curling as you scream out Richard's name. You can feel him slow his thrusts, his mouth hanging open as he stares at you. He's helping you ride through your orgasm, soft praises falling from his lips, telling you how astounding you look.

When his thrusts start back up, they're not as rough as they used to be. Instead, he's back to the familiar slow pace as he showers you with kisses. It doesn't take him long to reach his own release, his rhythm faltering before his hips finally still and he's buried deep inside you. He hides his face in the crook of your neck once more, peppering kisses to any exposed skin he could find.

The aftermath of these moments were always your favorite. Richard is always more than gentle while helping you clean up, and you're giggling as he covers your face in soft kisses. He helps you out of the body harness, along with the collar and fishnets. You feel more free now, and you're more than happy to accompany Richard laying on the bed. You rest your head on his chest, listening to his heart slowly come down from its high, your hand stroking his chest.

“Do you feel relaxed now?” you ask him, a teasing tone laced in your voice. He chuckles softly, nodding his head.

“You always make me feel better, darling,” The comment makes your heart flutter and you tilt your head up, pressing your lips to his. When you settle back down on his chest, you feel his hand run up and down your back slowly, rubbing soothing circles in your soft skin.

[kukukape]

I got ahead of myself. Romance headcanons for Richard Malik <333 Reader is, of course, gender neutral

Warning: While it's not detailed, there is 18+ content in this and it will be identified in red text. If you still wanna check it out, continue on!

As said before, Richard has a hard time when it comes to emotions. So for him to actually have feelings for you is saying something.

You had been hanging around DedSec for a while, and you were one of the few operatives who still conversed with him even while he was imprisoned.

After a couple weeks, he finally stopped sneering at you and degrading both you and the group. Instead, he eventually settled on short responses, and he never seemed comfortable sharing any stories.

That all quickly changes.

When he's released from his cell, he ends up taking on the duty of monitoring your missions.

He's telling you where guards are, where to find codes for locked doors, and how to maneuver around complicated areas. He's also making sure every camera in your vicinity starts having "technical problems".

You think he's doing all of this to be mean at first. How he criticizes you and how he's known for being a smug jerk.

You realize there's more to it when you finally get injured.

It wasn't much, just a graze to your arm. The operatives in the safehouse would've been able to patch you back up, but Richard insisted on doing it himself. Something about him "not wanting the morons to find a way to only worsen your condition".

This was the first time you got a story out of him. You had asked if he had ever gotten hurt (and you already knew the answer), and his response came as a surprise.

He's telling you about his time in the navy, and he seems genuinely shocked when you take interest and ask him about what it was like and what he did.

Your support and interest really seemed to do a number on him.

After that day, Richard is the only one who's allowed to patch you up whenever you get hurt.

Of course you hear the man rant and rave, but there's something to his help. A softness that's almost unnatural to him.

He's also asking you to be the one to accompany him whenever he wants to go out, and you're noticing he's stopping by your favorite shops, "just to look around".

You're not paying for anything, either.

"I'm the one that wanted to go out. It's only right for me to pay your way."

You have a sneaking suspicion that he's growing feelings for you, but you're also not sure because he's a known sociopath.

Your suspicion is correct, however, when he finally asks you out on a date.

He's very traditional, and he doesn't miss a beat. With an empty safehouse, he's extending his hand to you and he's got that stupid smug grin on his face.

"I was wondering if you would like to accompany me on a date? Somewhere nice - somewhere you deserve to be."

You would've been happy at McDonald's, but he decided to take you to some fancy restaurant, where the food was in another language and everything felt like it cost more than your rent.

He's going all out, too. Lit candles, the best wine, and you two are all the way in the back, hidden from the rest of the patrons. With his history, it's probably for the best.

He's being very sweet, and you can tell he's struggling to open up. You never push him, though. He'll get there when he's ready.

He likes to bring you gifts after the two of you have become official as well. Just small things he's seen that made him think of you.

If you get him gifts, he'll melt. He won't show it, but this is one of the few times he's at a loss for words.

Though Richard isn't the most touchy feely guy in London, he still does find comfort in physical contact.

Hand holding, the occasional kiss, his arm wrapped around you, the works.

There's an air of possession around him, especially whenever he notices someone else staring at you for too long. Expect him to bend down to press a lingering kiss to your lips whenever this happens.

When it comes to the bedroom, however, Richard has two modes: very sweet and loving, or pure dominance.

He doesn't initiate these intimate moments often, but when he does, the two of you always have to be alone. A simple caress of your cheek, or a husky growl about how tantalizing you look.

And god forbid you actually wear something special for this man. Fishnets are an absolute weakness for him, along with thigh-high socks and collars.

He'll absolutely lose it if you've got a leash attached, and you hand it over to him.

"My, my. What a good little pet my darling's being. I suppose I should reward you now, hm?"

You doing anything sexual to, and for, this man is stroking his ego hard. And he absolutely makes it known.

One thing he doesn't like during these moments is any sound. No TV ambiance, no music. He wants to hear you and only you.

When he's losing himself in dominance, he'll start growling. Very deep and it's a rumble you can almost feel, and he's probably right beside your ear too.

He doesn't go too far, and he'll absolutely refuse to hurt you. Something to do with his past and that he doesn't want to hurt someone he actually loves. So if you're into choking, you're gonna have to find ways to coax him into it, but slapping or other degrading things are completely off the table.

Aftercare is really big for him, however.

He'll clean you up, pepper kisses all over your face and hold you close.

No, neither of you are getting dressed afterwards, unless you have places to be. He prefers to feel your skin against his, claiming he still wants to be close to you.

He's pulling you so that you're laying his head on his chest, and he's rubbing circles on your back, showering you in praise as he occasionally kisses your forehead.

"You're so divine. I'm more than lucky to have you, darling."

If he decided to push you both to your limit, expect to hear him start snoring when you both eventually sleep.

[kukukape]

Actually posting content? Oh, who is she???

Just some headcanons for Richard Malik, cause baby boy needs some more love. These were supposed to be quick, but I got carried away and it's a fucking mess. I just felt like getting some things down, and these were the first ones that came to mind.

This only includes normal hcs. I plan on doing romance hcs later on.

As everyone knows, his intelligence in DedSec is unmatched. Always the overachiever, he knows a lot about different subjects, especially when it's regarding technology.

Emotions and every day life is a different story.

Compliments and a warm greeting will always catch him off guard, and it'll always make him paranoid. Even a simple "How are you, Richard?" will have him watching you carefully throughout the day.

Don't ask him about anything mechanic, either. He'll try to act like he knows what he's doing, but he's most likely just looked something up on Google and trying to play it off.

Or he'll pause, tell you he's too busy to help and walk away.

When he was first released from the cell in the safehouse, he was very weary around the operatives, and still is whenever certain ones come by.

But don't let the tough front fool you. When operatives started referring to him as one of their own after he proved himself changed, he nearly cried.

Having a family isn't something he's used to. After losing his father in his early teens, he always felt alone, his mother often times belittling him or just not being around. Often times, he wishes it was his mother that perished and not his father.

He does still have a few things from his dad. The watch he wears was something he snatched from his mother's jewelry box before she could pawn it, and his father's favorite suit is hung up in his closet in plastic wrapping to preserve it.

Please don't even try to touch the watch, or even try to take it off him. He will lose his mind and probably start crying if he can't find it

Every week, he'll visit the cemetery and bring a bouquet of flowers to his father's grave. He normally sticks around for about an hour, giving him time to "talk" to him and about everything that's happening. Sometimes he'll even ask for his advice, but he knows he won't get a response.

When he was first released from his cell, his first trip was to his father's grave (where an operative had to obviously accompany him), where he broke down crying and apologizing for everything he had done. It's the first, and only time, an operative saw him in that state.

You wanna see this man lose his smug, asshole personality? Get him drunk. He can't hold his liquor, so you won't have to wait long.

He gives into peer pressure when it comes to alcohol, so call him a little bitch and make him take those shots. And then join him because he will complain about you not drinking with him.

He'll start letting all of his secrets be known, especially his feelings on certain operatives.

And surprise surprise, he actually loves most of them.

Very soft and innocent when drunk, he'll gush about everything that comes to mind, and he's not talking formally anymore. He's using slang and he's calling someone a bitch.

You'll have to carry him home, and expect to hear him start singing "God Save the Queen". He has no control over his volume either, so he's probably gonna be screaming rather than singing.

If you end up getting into trouble with Clan Kelley on the way home, and you end up winning the fight while protecting both yourself and Richard, expect to hear his dumbass shout at "POGGERS" before passing out.

You don't know where he learned it from, and if you ask him when he's sober, he'll deny ever saying that.

He also gets the worst hangovers, so expect to not hear from him for a day or so.

Also, please try not to touch him when he's sober.

He has an issue with touching, along with people trying to tower over him. This has to do with his past, and these are one of the few times he'll actually get violent.

A secret about Richard is that, not only is he very proficient in hand-to-hand combat, but he's an elite sniper. While he can use both rifle and handguns, his favored weapon is a sniper rifle. It allows him to stay in the back, watch over his companions, and he's not right in the middle of the action.

[kukukape]

Watch Dogs Legion: OC x Richard Malik, pt. 1

Summary: Teenaged Richard Malik is getting beat up in a back alley. Is it retribution for the future? Yeah, but Angel doesn't know that.

---

Cold.

Ruthless.

Insatiable in the business of death, and so very skilled too.

These are the things that I became over the course of my life. Not necessarily in that order, or even in succession at all. In fact, I don't think I can even say I really 'became' those things. I always had been. My youthful murders say that much.

When I look in the mirror, I do see a monster. I do. One that I don't hold anyone at fault for, as this demon, I am confident, is purely my own doing. And I often dislike her, with her jagged smile and scarred face.

But I cherish the memories that she has been able to acquire, pure and sweet amidst a journey beelining for nothing but death. I made good friends, lots of enemies (of the good and bad), and one lover. And in each I found smiles and human tears, and a mixture of other emotions that, at the end of the day, at least were something that I could feel.

My name is Angel Marcos, and I lived a bad life.

But there was beauty in it, although rarely mine, and I'd like to share it.

---

DedSec, in all its arrogant glory, often calls themselves 'Watch Dogs'. How fitting to label us animals, really. But even better, would be to call us 'little brothers', because all we ever seemed to accomplish was kicking 'big brother' in the shins and screaming Bloody Mary at spectators.

Anyway, DedSec was my final chapter. My longest chapter. And plenty of other chapters saw their beginning and end before that one (after all, nobody becomes a skilled monster overnight).

Life only began for me when I met Richard. A tall, lanky, awkward, and- well, cute, to be frank- thing at the beginning of secondary school.

As a teen, I took a back way to school. At least, one of the back ways available, because I knew several. A useful skill for a kid who found herself on the business end of a bully's instigated fist so often.

My rise was at the break of dawn, just as an extra contingency. Plus, it let me slow down for a much-needed morning walk. A teenager needed some peace before they wreaked havoc, after all.

I tapped my feet to a beat nobody else around me could hear, holding my iPod (it was 2001, fuck off) in one hand and the side strap of my backpack in the other. Gravel crunched under my feet and somewhere not so far off, some kid's grunts and cries of pain were unknown to me.

You rock my world, ya know you did,

And everything I own I give,

The rarest love, who'd think I'd find,

Someone like y-

I yelped as someone bashed into me right as I turned a corner, and nearly sent me right back around it. The peace of my mornings, interrupted by some idiot without a care to look around himself…

…which made sense, considering the sorry lump on the ground that he and some of his presumes friends were kicking.

Oh, shit, that's not a lump, that's a kid.

A lanky kid, at that. His scrawny arms obscured his face as he covered himself in a way you were supposed to when facing a grizzly bear. Near-girlish cries left him with every blow he was forced to take.

I must have looked either idiotic or simply unsympathetic in that moment, just staring dumbly (or blankly) as this kid was being pummeled into the ground. It took another shove my way to wake me the fuck up.

"Fuck off, Marcos," the perpetrator growled. I settled him with a look when he said my name. I didn't recognize him, but he must have been from school, given his now-bloodied uniform.

Another shove.

"I said fuck off, bitch! Ya wanna end up like this little wanker too?" He jabbed a finger at the primary victim.

My lips had yet to flap some sass back at him, which was honestly a feat in itself. I looked back at the kid on the ground, who hadn't cried out for help or begged for mercy. It almost made me not want to help him.

I shrugged my backpack off my shoulders and promptly swung it at my irritator's head. He hit the brick wall next to us and dropped to the ground cold.

…Apparently 'almost' wasn't enough.

His three friends looked up at the sound of a wanker's hollow head meeting an immovable force.

They looked at their friend on the ground.

Then they looked at me.

The kid on the ground had even started shifting up onto his elbows to observe me too.

I put my iPod in my pocket with a sigh, and bit the hair tie I had on my wrist.

"C'mon, let's get this over with."

---

Sound. Sound was the only thing I had, considering my glasses were snapped in half and tossed over the chained fence those four had cornered me at.

And sound by itself was almost too much, as I heard bones being cracked and the squelch of finer parts being crushed.

I'd nearly grown irritated, watching the blur of a person- a girl, I had realized- in between the cracks of my guarding arms. I was never a begger, not until duty called for such. But it would have brought me more comfort to see her scamper away rather than spectate.

To this day, I don't know what was going through Angel's mind as she watched the scene. I'm sure my weakness crossed her mind, but her life was of constant choices.

I wonder which one she really made that day, as she put down four bullies twice her size and sauntered over to cast her shadow over me.

I flinched away as she knelt by my side, halfway sure she'd knock me out too for good measure. Then she put a hand on my arm- her palms were soft, to my surprise. I'd suspected callouses, rough like the gravel I'd been beaten down on.

"Hey, you okay?" She asked.

"Do I look okay?" I snapped back. A small part of me shriveled in shame, to snap at who was, admittedly, my savior.

But she didn't seem to mind, or perhaps she just didn't care. Carefully, she helped me to my feet, patting me on the shoulders in a (very weak) form of comfort.

I rubbed at my eyes, wishing they'd for once cooperate with me so I could actually see who it was who'd come to my rescue. She seemed to recognize my struggle as she looked around for a pair of glasses.

"I have contacts in my backpack…" I muttered. There was no way I'd be able to rummage through it on my own.

"You must be really blind," she quipped, but helped me nonethless as I grumbled. "Here," she put the pack in my hands and I quickly put the contacts in.

I let out a sigh of relief as my vision cleared, and the bloodbath of a fight before me became that much clearer, and my rescuer all the prettier. I had had more graceful first thoughts about people, and I quickly shoved those about her down.

"You really, erm…" I gestured with my chin behind her at the scene she'd created, trying to divert her steel gaze from me. "Beat them by yourself?"

She simply shrugged, leaning down to hand me my backpack and then picking up hers again. As she stepped over the head of the little gang's legs, she made sure to give his foot a sound kick.

My feet, however, had yet to agree to move. She looked over her shoulder at me. "Are you coming? We could make it to school early and get you cleaned up," she said.

"Oh… of course," I dashed up to walk by her side, and she cringed a bit at the obvious awkwardness my injuries had induced.

We walked in silence for a few minutes before she spoke up. "You're new in the neighborhood, aren't you?" She asked, though her tone wasn't inquisitive.

"…I am."

That made her smile. A crooked smile, her white teeth peeking out from the side. But the crinkle of her eyes was soft.

"Well, I'm Angel," she said as she turned forward again.

It took me a moment to get over my bewilderment that these were our introductions.

No, this interaction belonged to two people who'd crossed paths on the sidewalk to school. Not to a wiry teenage boy and the girl who'd saved him from the beating of his life.

But as far as I could tell- and can tell- Angel had already forgotten about heroics and dramatics and convoluted thank you's.

"I'm Richard," I said softly, "Richard Malik."

She snorted slightly, and I tossed her a look. She smiled apologetically. "Yeah? Do you like your drink shaken or stirred, Richard?"

I let out a dramatic groan, perhaps more pained than the ones I'd been letting out on that alleyway ground.

But I'd be damned to say I didn't smile.

~end~

[kukukape]

"Well don't you look like a fancy traitorous prick! :D"

[kukukape]

Started out as a sort of hc in my group chat, turned into a drabble. Dark AU for Legion where Dan is a sociopath. TW for blood and death.

Word count: 1,346

“It's done.”

“Excellent work, my love! I knew you could do it! And so efficient, too.”

The praise makes his heart race, the heat rising to his cheeks as a smile spreads across his lips, foolish and giddy. He wasn't used to being spoken to this way, his old gang having belittled him every chance they got. But being apart of DedSec – oh, who was he kidding? Running the odd jobs for their leader, Dan, had been a pleasant change. The soft and gentle tone of the Irishman, those sweet smiles he would give him. It wasn't any secret he had fallen for the man quick, smitten by his pretty words and gentle touch. The way he would hold him as he fixed his wounds, and how he would always offer him the first jobs.

Of course he had accomplished each one flawlessly. Dan would send him on jobs that regarded the Kelleys, whether it be getting information on them or stealing some sort of equipment. He never had a problem doing it. Why would he? He didn't exactly feel any remorse ratting out the gang that had kicked him around ever since he was forced into it. And if it made his leader happy, then he was all for it.

“Let's celebrate! Top of Buckingham Palace?”

“Sounds great.”

“It's a date, then.”

The fluttering feeling that had started in his chest has started to flourish throughout his body, coursing through his veins and making him feel warm all over. Buckingham Palace should've been close by, and his feet are carrying him in the direction of the building before he knows it. His mind is swarming, heart racing as he sees his destination in the distance. Normally he would've gone back to the safehouse and been congratulated there. But to be meeting Dan, away from everyone, to celebrate? Well, it was a dream come true.

It's easy enough slipping past the guards and calling for one of the cargo drones to come scoop him up. The sight around him is beautiful, the leaves swaying in the gentle breeze that moved through the garden. Dan's sitting on the edge of the palace, his suit almost looking black, save for the parts that the moon's glow highlighted. His legs are hanging down, elbows resting on his knees as he stares out at the garden before them.

“Glad you actually showed up, Josh,” His voice is as gentle as ever, that smile sending chills down his spine.

“Of course!” He steps onto the edge of the palace, slowly walking over and watching the man stand up. Those hazel eyes are piercing and cold, but they practically hypnotize him when he holds his gaze. Standing tall, Dan reaches out, a gloved hand coming up to gently brush his knuckles against Josh's cheek. It's electrifying and he leans into his touch, smile forming on his freckled face.

“Always so good to me,” Dan purrs, leaning down slightly so his face is right in front of his. His hand trails down, index finger curling underneath his chin and keeping his head in place so he wouldn't be tempted to look away. “Tell me, love, why is that?”

“Y-you seem to know the answer,” He can feel his face heating up. The Irishman had never been this close before, the smell of his cologne making his head spin. A soft hum reverberates in Dan's throat.

“I wanna hear it,” The husky tone is so commanding and powerful, the growl making his knees weak. His swallows thickly, blue eyes still locked with hazel as he opens his mouth.

“I like you,” The response seems to please the man before him, lips curling into a smile as he chuckles softly. Releasing his hold on his chin, Dan takes a step back, turning so he's looking back out at the garden with his hands folded behind him. Josh stands next to him, scanning the area. Though he was almost the same height as his leader, he always felt so much smaller.

“Why do you like me?” Dan asks, looking at him out of the corner of his eye. “What makes me so... differentfrom the other operatives? Is it my position?”

“What? No!” He almost laughs at the accusation, bringing a hand up to rub the back of his neck. He supposed there was no beating around the bush now. The man knew, and had seemed to know of his feelings for a while. He wondered who in the group didn'tknow about his little crush on the man. “I just... like you. You're very nice and... well, you treat me a lot better than the Kelleys.”

“Is that so?” His heart jumps when Dan grabs his shoulders, turning him once more so he's giving him his full attention. The smile on his bearded face keeps him silent, Josh's lips parted ever so slightly in anticipation to ask the flurry of questions running through his mind. Those questions fall away when Dan starts moving his hands, gently gripping the back of his neck as the other comes up to cup his cheek. He's leaning into his touch once more, the cool material of his leather glove sending a chill up his spine.

“What makes you think I'd feel the same?” The grip on the back of his neck tightens, his breath hitching in his throat as he starts to squirm against the man's hold.

“Dan...” Those cold eyes grow darker, his once sweet smile turning wicked as the hand once holding his cheek slips down to his throat. Josh reaches up to grab the man's arms, trying desperately to pry him away as he starts to panic. He can't breathe, and he's staring at the man with pleading eyes, feeling tears well up.

“Ya think someone like me really needsa partner?” Dan's losing his once sweet tone, voice getting lower as he starts to laugh. He's applying more pressure, and Josh's vision is starting to darken, everything becoming blurry as the tears slip down his cheeks. “No. All I needed was someone to do a job for me, and you did that. And now, you've outlived your usefulness.”

A surge of air flows through him when Dan finally releases his throat, shoving him back. Tripping on his own feet, Josh falls backwards, coughing as he tries to gulp down more air. He's scurrying back, heaving as he stares up at the man stalking towards him.

“Dan, please,” he cries softly. He can feel his body tremble, curling in on himself. Dan only gets closer, crouching down and staring at him.

“I bet you would've lovedto have gotten to know me,” he purrs out. The glistening of the blade makes Josh whimper, and he turns away, screwing his eyes shut. But a hand reaches out, harshly grabbing his face and forcing his head to turn. He can feel the tip of the knife run along his jawline, and he's soft begs over and over for him to stop. “You and everyone else in that group. Ya just don't get it, do you? You're just a means to an end, love. Everyone is.”

It's a quick motion and for a second, Josh almost doesn't register what's actually happened. But when he notices he can't breathe, and his neck feels wet in the cool night air, it finally hits him. His hands fly up in a futile attempt to cover the cut around his throat, eyes wide as he falls back. He's starting to choke on his own blood, feeling it pour over his lips and roll down to his jaw. Everything hurts as he lays there, and he wonders if the night is what's making him colder. Dan walks around to his side, towering over him with a small smile.

“Thank you for your contribution, love.” It's the last thing he can make out as his vision fades to black, feeling his strength rapidly deplete.

[kukukape]

GodDAMN-

[kukukape]

HOT

The group chat and I were discussing about a dark!au. So I decided to draw dark!Lily.

Loved how it turn out.

[kukukape]

So cuuuuute 🥺🥺

Malik gifting a book to Lily.

Requested by: @kukukape

[kukukape]

THANK YOU SO MUCH 😍😍😍

Ladies and Gentlemen, i have the honor to present you : Angel. She’s one of the main WDL ocs of our dearest @kukukape 

For this one, i tried the “spectre” effect poster. 

Angel is Richard’s girlfriend. And Cecilia’s girlfriend when they’re in the mood for sharing 🤗

[kukukape]

AND SO IT BEGINS >:DDDD

Secret Plan

Talked about it in the group chat, had a strong desire to write it and here we are. Very short and not good.

Summary: He's heard the operatives talk hear and there, plotting what they were going to do with him. He's surprised when not everyone in DedSec is on board with the plan.

Word count: 1,223

“We should make an example out of him.”

“An example?”

“You know what that fucker's done. Dunno why the others have let him live this long.”

“So, what do you wanna do?”

“Cut the fucker's head off. Put on a nice little show for London, ya know? Show 'em we won't tolerate his kind.”

“Fuck, wouldn't mind doin' that myself...”

His stomach churns every time he makes eye contact with the operatives. Their wicked grins and dark eyes. They reminded him of the monsters his father would read about here and there. The glint of mischief in their eyes, and the way they moved around the safehouse, the same fluidity as a snake, eyeing its prey. He supposed, in this situation, he was the prey.

“When should we do it?”

“Whenever the safehouse is empty. The less people the better.”

“You think he'll fight?”

“I'm counting on it. Gonna shock the fucker's optik until he's begging for mercy.”

Richard finds himself sitting farthest from the cell's door, his eyes flickering to the opening anytime an operative would type in the code and bring him food. He would've sent them a small smile before, maybe thank them if he liked the member enough, but he couldn't bring himself to anymore. How many of them were in on the plan? Were they all in on it? They had to be. He knew DedSec was always a closely knit group, who often decided things together. With how this plan was coming together with no argue, he assumed his fate was set in stone.

“All over London, eh?”

“Sure! That way everyone knows what DedSec is about!”

He tries to ignore the soft beeping of the code being put in, or how the glass door slides open. He stares at the ground, body tense and his mind swarming. Was this it? He had seen many operatives walking around today. Was this considered empty? Was it finally time?

“Put his head on a fuckin' pike.”

“Rich?”

“We'll throw his body in the Thames.”

“Richard?”

“Can you imagine the look on his face when we slit his throat?”

“Richard!” He jumps violently, back pressed against the glass of the cell as his head snaps over to the entrance. Dan's standing there, eyebrows furrowed and a concerned look on his face. Had he ever seen that expression before on the Irishman? He's holding some food in a to-go box, and a book is laid on top. “What's gotten into ya, lad?”

“You should know,” he scoffs, casting his eyes to the ground once more. The soft footsteps make him tense, his hands curling into tight fists. He hears the man set everything at the end of the makeshift bed. Lord of the Flies. Had the man really listened when he brought it up?

“If I did, I wouldn't be askin',” he deadpans. He slowly trails his eyes up to look at the man once more. There's a look he's familiar with. The way Dan is standing, his shoulders hunched and close to the entrance. Right, Dan had been to prison himself. He knew what it was like to have people towering close by. It's enough for him to let his shoulders relax. If the Irishman wanted to hurt him, he would've by now.

“I suppose you're in on it, too?” he questions, rolling his eyes when he sees that curious head tilt. “The plan, you idiot.”

“Plan? The fuck you mean?” Well, this was a turn of events. He assumed everyone knew the plan. Had Dan been left out? “This ain't prison, Malik. Ya won't get punished for telling me.”

“They're going to kill me...” His voice is unnaturally soft as he looks away once more. Maybe he was just stupid to overestimate his place in the group. He had assumed that they had liked him somewhat. They had killed off their enemies, but they let him live. Didn't that count for something? “They say they're going to... make me an “example”, if you will. Broadcast it all over London and... c-cut my head off.”

“The fuck they are!” His voice is booming, and Richard can practically see the fire lit inside the man. He's standing tall now, jaw clenched as he glares down at him. “Who said it?”

He hesitates, his voice caught in his throat. He assumed the operative would've brushed it off, tell him to stop worrying and to just shut up and eat his food. But this... well, it wasn't something he had ever planned for. Again, he demands a name, and Richard's eyes flicker over to another operative that's close by: Mark. He knew of the man's history, and he knew his history with Dan. Army buddies until Dan was deployed to London. He doesn't expect the man to believe him. But he's surprised when Dan storms out, headed right for the younger man. Richard watches with wide eyes, the smile on Mark's face vanishing when Dan grips his hair, slamming his head against the cement wall. Their voices are muffled, but he can hear Dan mention something about a “plan.” Of course Mark tries to deny it, only to have his head pulled back and bashed against the wall again and again until blood is staining the wall and he finally nods. The yelling dies down and he can't make out anything that's being said, but he can see their mouths moving. Once more, Dan bashes the operative's head against the cement wall before he shoves him away, barking orders and watching him scurry out of the safehouse. It's a sight to behold honestly. When was the last time someone had stood up for him?

Dan's back to being slightly hunched over as he returns to the entrance of the cell, but Richard can see he's still gritting his teeth.

“Ya don't gotta worry about them fuckers anymore,” he grumbles out, “Come tomorrow mornin', the rest of DedSec and I are gonna decide what happens to them.”

“I...” He's at a loss for words. This wasn't how he expected anything would turn out. He figured he was finally going to die, or Dan would at least would've just talked to Mark. Instead, he had busted open the man's skull and seemed to threaten him. “Thank you, Dan.”

“No problem,” He turns his heels, readying himself to move over to the couch until Richard catches his attention.

“Aren't you forgetting something?” he calls out. Dan looks at him, eyebrows raised as he looks at him. Finally he nods, and Richard shrinks back when he sees him pull his pistol out of his waistband. He grips the barrel however, holding it out to him.

“In case one of those cunts turn up and I'm not here,” he tells him. He's hesitant, eyeing the weapon before finally taking it. “If ya wanna come out, then just do so. I don't care.”

“You're not worried I'll escape?” A laugh comes from the man as he once more turns to walk away.

“I'm countin' on it, lad!” he calls back, “Not sure I could protect both of us if it's most of the group that wants you dead!”

[kukukape]

Watch Dogs: SIRS (pt. 1)

Summary: SIRS' "Prodigal Son", Richard Malik, is given a new assignment: The supervision and mentorship of Cameron Leon, a RAF Captain and hero of war.

Author's Note: Just trying to get a feel for the characters here, so it's just a long introductory in a way. 😅 Hope you can still enjoy!

•••

"That's right. No, I will not accept anything less than that. We have standards over on this side of the water Mister Secretary, and I'm rather adamant about upholding them. Goodbye," Director Child cut the feed, letting out a tired sigh fitting of a woman who was still in the workforce long past passing retirement's threshold.

Her day became just a little brighter when there was a knock on her door, and after a gruff, "Come in," a familiar face showed.

"Richard. Good. I've been meaning to speak with you," Emma's mind shifted gears and she stepped behind her desk to grab a file.

Ever the image of militance, Richard stood a respectful distance away, hands folded behind his back. "I'm listening, ma'am," he said firmly.

Emma rolled her eyes as she rummaged through a filing cabinet. "At ease, Malik. You've been retired from the seas for nearly eight years, calm down," she jabbed.

Richard unfolded his hands, relaxing as much as someone like him could (hint: it wasn't much).

"If you called me here just to ridicule me, I think I'll head back to my office, Emma," Richard drawled, losing his formal tone a little more easily than his posture.

Emma smiled, never ceasing to be amused by Richard's words, that of which would've made anyone else shrink back and wince.

"I would never call you to my office just for that. I have a new assignment for you," she said, throwing the file on her desk. Richard's eyes glinted in newfound interest, and he took one long stride to Emma's desk, taking up the file. "We're getting a new officer. Transferring from the Air Force's military intelligence," she explained.

Richard scoffed once, a bemused smirk on his face. "The MI isn't necessarily renowned for the brilliant minds it produces," he pointed out.

"Perhaps the unit in itself has that reputation, but not her," she juts her chin at the file.

Richard adjusts his glasses, which had been sliding down while he was hunched over his computer, and skimmed over the file.

RAF Captain, combat pilot… stellar reports from superiors, Order of the British Empire…

"Rather accomplished."

"And only 28. So I expect some bullheadedness that I'd rather you stamp out before it becomes an issue."

Richard let out a small exhale in his nose, a miniscule smile on his face.

But it quickly disappeared as his eyes paused over the officer's callsign, and he squinted down at it…

Callsign: Pucelle.

"Cameron Leon is being transferred to SIRS?" He asked a little sharply.

"I had a feeling you might recognize her."

"I was present at her Victoria Cross reception, as the preceding recipient," Richard elaborated, flipping through the file with a bit more interest, "I see now…"

Richard couldn't recall interacting much with the captain at the ceremony, outside of a handshake and a congrats. But he did remember her smile seeming to widen a bit when they made eye contact, that of admiration and recognition of someone closer to her level in that chamber.

"She transferred from the air field to a desk job in intelligence earlier this year. But so it seems, she's dissatisfied with the state of military intelligence."

"Then we should get along just fine," Richard closed the file and tucked it under his arm to be stowed away in his briefcase for later.

"Good," Emma looked down at her watch, "Because her helicopter just touched down on the roof. Come with me."

---

Cameron chewed on the inside of her cheek as the copter gently landed, the wide expanse of SIRS HQ practically glowing beneath her. Her jaw shifted around pensively with her thoughts, before she turned her gaze to the back of the pilot's seat again.

"Another happy landing, Captain," the pilot said as the rotor blades slowed and they're pittering growling quieted.

"How boring," Cameron replied, perking a smile as the pilot laughed.

"You've had enough exciting landings for one career, haven't you ma'am?"

"Are you kidding me, lieutenant? Could never get enough of them," she grinned and then looked out the open door of the copter. "Though I guess there are more important places for me to be. Thank you for the ride, sir."

"Thank you for your service, ma'am," he said- as if she were done- as he saluted her.

Leaving no time for herself to ponder or for the officers outside to wait, Cameron dismounted. The copter's low growling started again.

And as her blazer's ends flew up and her hair blew around wildly, Cameron watched the copter fly away, with all other manner of things.

"Too in love with the skies or too prideful to take a taxi?"

A… nearly familiar voice. It was pompous. Cameron turned around, brow raised that she'd just landed and shit was apparently already about to go down-

Oh.

"…Lieutenant Malik."

"Captain."

Cameron recalled him being more friendly at the VC ceremony. But she supposed everyone was a bit meaner in their element.

"Careful Richard, before you accidentally authorize her pulling rank on you," Emma cut in, "Captain Leon. I'm glad to see you got here safely."

Cameron's eyes flicked to Malik, his hands folded behind his back and jaw set firmly.

"Thank you, ma'am," she took Emma's outstretched hand and shook it once.

"You're familiar with Officer Malik, I see."

"Familiar would be an exaggeration," Cameron replied. Richard let out the smallest exhale of a laugh from his nose.

"Good. Malik has been assigned to supervise you through your first season at SIRS," Emma directed, "I have a debriefing with the Home Secretary to get to. I leave you in capable hands. Officer." She nodded once at Cameron, gave Richard a pointed look, before stalking away.

The two former military officers turned to each other.

As she sized him up, Cameron made a mental note not to stand too close to him. Else the height difference would be way too obvious.

"Let's get to work, then," she filled the silence with her voice, stepping towards the stairs entrance.

"You never answered my question."

"I thought it was rhetorical."

"I don't waste words in such a manner," Richard drawled.

Cameron sighed. Now this was the fabled version of Richard Malik she'd heard about. Straight-faced, as arrogant as he was tall. Bit of a dick.

But even still, somehow, Cameron was sure he would turn out to be better company than the MI officers. And so she shot him a smile.

"We're gonna get along aren't we, Lieutenant?"

"That purely depends on how well you do your job," Richard replied plainly, slipping his hands into the pockets of his Brioni slacks. He stepped past Cameron, covering probably eight feet in two long strides and reaching past her to open the door.

He stepped back, holding the door open for his new subordinate, looking down at her with an impenetrable gaze.

"And you're an Officer now. Your days of being addressed militantly are behind you. As are mine."

Cameron nodded noncommitally. "Right…" she started to walk through the doorway.

"Leon."

"Sir?"

"'Pucelle'?"

Cameron grinned immediately. "You know, like La Pucelle, Joan of Arc. Because I'm a hero and whatnot," and then she started down the stairs. Richard smiled wryly.

How arrogant, he thought, This will be interesting, at the very least.

~end~

[kukukape]

HOLY SHIT THIS WAS AMAZING-

New Family

I don't wanna talk about it. I had talked about this subject in my group chat, and I decided I wanted to make it. It's shit but it's here.

Summary: After being released from his little holding cell, Richard receives a call from his mother, and it's not a welcomed one.

Word count: 1,612

“Brought down by a group of terrorists, hm? Well, I supposed I never expected much from you.”

Richard feels his stomach churn, nausea washing over him like a tidal wave. DedSec had released him from his little prison a couple weeks ago, and the first call he had gotten since his incarceration was from his mother, Victoria. He had been hesitant at first when the caller ID popped up, but had answered nonetheless. A part of him had been almost excited. Though he and his mother hadn't been on the best of terms, he had deep down wanted to reconnect with the woman, desperate to hold on to the last bit of family he had.

And yet, he had been met with this. No “hello” or even “how are you?” had come from the woman's lips, only the insult that cut him deep. Sitting on the sofa in the safehouse, Richard leans forwards to rest his elbows on his knees.

“Hello, mother,” His voice is bitter as he lifts his glasses up, pinching the bridge of his nose. Why hadn't he just ignored the call like he had done the other times? Curse him for having a moment of weakness. Now look at what he was dealing with.

“And blowing up an embassy!” she continues, raising her voice and making him softly groan. Everything he had tried to forget about while in the cell was coming back as Victoria continued ranting. The fact he had killed Emma Child, his higher up and someone he had considered a friend, and for what? In an attempt to bring down Zero-Day? That he couldn't even do himself?

“Why have you decided to call?” There's a scoff on the other side, and he can almost see now; her nose turned up and her brows furrowed. It's a vivid memory that always came to light whenever he thought of his mother. She was a woman with champagne taste on a beer budget, and she always seemed to despise his father. Perhaps a diesel fitter didn't pay enough for the woman's taste, or maybe she always felt Richard was the reason why she couldn't spend as much as she wanted. Still, it always tore him down inside whenever he heard her condescending voice.

“Just wanted to check up on you,” He rolls his eyes as he hears the sneer, but his heart tugs when she continues. “Still a failure, I see. Couldn't even last as Director of Counter-terrorism for more than a day. Is that why you bombed the Canadian embassy? Oh, and thenyou let a bunch of terrorists win! I'm surprised you're still alive, honestly.”

He had to agree with her last statement. He had heard some of the members chatter before, the younger and more fiery ones suggesting they just put a bullet in his skull and call it a day. Still, it felt... odd to hear her continuously refer to DedSec as terrorists.

“You don't know how embarrassed you've made me,” she continues, “You've shamed the Malik name. Your father would be disgusted with you, as am I.”

The breath catches in his throat and he bites his tongue, holding back his snappy response. No, he couldn't lose his cool. He couldn't let her win. Taking a deep breath, he finally opens his mouth to respond, only to have the phone snatched from his hand. Dan's standing before him, a disgusted look in his eyes as he ends the call, tossing it down on the couch beside Richard. He's dumbfounded.

“Ya don't need that cunt in your life if she's gonna treat ya like that,” he grumbles bitterly, “Don't listen to her.”

“You seem to talk from experience,” Richard comments, sitting upright so he can look at the man better. For a moment, he doesn't respond. Dan just grips the edge of his shirt, pulling it to the side and revealing an ugly scar near his shoulder. It looked old and had faded, but it didn't resemble a bullet wound like he would've expected.

“Me da used to do say the same shite to me,” he tells him, slipping his finger out of his shirt and fixing it. “Called me every name in the book, put cigarettes out on me. Ya get numb to all it after a while.”

“Yes, well, it wasn't the hello I was expecting,” Who would've expected to hear that from their own mother after not speaking to each other for so long? He supposed he was foolish for thinking the conversation would've went any other way.

“Stop expecting anythin' from her,” Dan's pulling a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket, tapping the bottom against his palm. “Ya don't need her, anyway. She'll just bring you down.”

He takes his leave after that, leaving Richard to go through his thoughts. Had he been right? He always held onto that remaining thread, feeling guilty to ever just cut the woman off completely. He supposed he was desperate to cling to that last bit of family he had. He had no siblings, his father had died when he was a teen, and he never spoke to his aunts or uncles on his mother's side of the family. They had the same snooty air, and it always wore him down. The way they criticized his clothes, how he styled his hair, what profession he was in – was that why he had studied so hard when he was in school? Why he had thrown himself into his books after his father died?

“What's wrong, dear?” The soft and gentle voice of Annika catches his attention, the old woman pushing aside his phone so she could take a seat next to him on the couch. He picks up the device, slipping it into his pocket.

“Nothing. It's nothing,” He tries to brush her off, but she reaches out to place a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“You know how loud Danny's voice is,” she hints, a small smile forming. “Now, how about you tell me yourself, love?”

He hesitates. He felt so silly letting the woman's words get to him the more he calmed down, but his heart still felt heavy. Annika waits patiently, and he finally sighs softly as he turns to her. She had always been one of the nicer members of the group, always sneaking him sweets and the like. She hadn't judged him, not too harshly like the others had. With a deep breath, he finally tells her, starting with the most recent phone call that had abruptly ended. The smile finally falls, a look of disgust on her face as she scoffs.

“What a horrible woman!” she exasperates, shaking her head. “No mother should ever speak to her children in such a way.”

“I've grown accustomed to it,” he sighs, “It's how she's always been, ever since I was young. She got worse after my father's... passing.”

“Now, that is no excuse!” She's reaching out to grip his shoulders now, nowhere near tight, but enough to catch his attention. “You are a good man, Richard. Sure, you've done... awful things, but your heart was in the right place.”

“You... really think so?” He nearly chokes on her words, his name almost sounding foreign. All of the operatives had referred to him as his last name, even after being able to finally leave his little prison. And to hear her call him a nice man, and even go as far to say his heart was in the right place. It felt weird, but nice.

“We're your new family now!” she announces, straightening up and holding her head high in pride. “Don't you let anyone tell you otherwise, dear! And if they do, just send them over to me and I'll whoop them into shape.”

“Thank you, Annika,” He forces a small smile onto his face. She seems satisfied with his response, patting his cheek gently before standing up and disappearing into the small train that was inside the safehouse. He's left alone with his thoughts, the old woman's voice ringing out in his head. To think of DedSec as his new family... it was a thought that seemed surreal. The same group he had sought to dismantle and destroy in an attempt to save his county was the same group that had finally seemed to accept him and his flaws. Or, at the very least, the they hadn't thrown the past events in his face and belittled him.

The more he thoughts about it, however, the more he got accustomed to the idea. He had seen how some of the operatives acted around one another. How Lorcan would hang off of Jeremy in an attempt to get his attention, and how Franklin would train the younger operatives with the stun guns, showing them how to aim and use the thing. He had even seen Dan and Lorcan spar with the newer operatives, always accepting their requests to train. He never wanted to admit it out loud, or even to himself, but sometimes he would feel that desire to join in conversation or even some playful fights. Maybe he did truly want a family deep down. People who would accept him and work with him, rather than turn their backs on him.

Yeah, maybe this would be okay. Maybe Annika and Dan were right. He didn't need his mother to call only to berate him. It felt nice to have people who supported him, even if it was just for the moment. Maybe DedSec would eventually become his new family.

[kukukape]

For anyone who needs this today 😊

starting to think about happiness as something that could be attained every day instead of something you chase for years and years until the conditions are absolutely perfect

[kukukape]

“Like tears in the rain”

Not a full fanfic. Not a oneshot since i think i’ll make multiple parts. Got inspired to write a little something after i talked with @kukukape

Context ; You’re finally done your with the basic final exams at the uni and you wanted to celebrate with your boyfriend. Turns out he was already celebrating with someone else. SO you’re slowly loosing it and you’re thinking about the past. And maybe…the future. ♪

__________________________

It’s been weeks since his last message. And her final exams as been preventing her from answering. Now she got all the time in the world doesn’t she ? No more exams or classes until the results. And no more boyfriend. He made it very clear that she wasn’t here, available enough for him. Since another woman was occupying her couch and Greg’s mouth. Why would she stay around ? Cecilia was walking down the street on a rainy night with a little bag in her hands. A hood over her head. Nobody can see you cry in the rain after all. After an hour, she finally gained access to a abandoned rooftop. She sat on the precipice, putting her bag next to her. A bottle of wine was inside. She wanted to celebrate the end of the year with… someone dear to her. Instead of throwing it into the void, Cc started drinking. She went through her phone, looking at social medias, ignoring Greg’s and Winston’s calls. An old selfie of her and Richard caught her attention. It was the last one they took before they had to part ways for their studies and military careers. Hesitant for a few seconds, she drank again, then went to Richard’s most recent messages. He was giving her advices, how to manage her stress and all the informations going through her head. He was giving her the keys to success basically. Then ask her how she was doing. How she was managing etc. She finally decided to answer. Wiping away the tears, putting her hair behind her ears and hiding the bottle. « Hey Richie…. I’m sorry if I took so long before answering. I was… well uh busy. Exams and so on. I did my best to follow your advices. They really help me out. Now I just gotta wait a few days. » scratching her head, trying to think and hold back her tears at the same time, « Now I’m free. Sort of. I’ve got nothing left.. to do. Beside one thing. Meeting my old man. Face to face for the very first time. I’m…. not doing fine at all. I don’t know what to do anyway. Got nothing to loose so yeah. » She now finally faces the phone like she’s trying to face Richard. « You’re the only one I’m telling all of these. So please, don’t tell anyone anything. Keep this to yourself. Cause even if I don’t tell you were I’m going. You’ll know where to find me. Don’t come until I sort things out. Goodbye Richard. See ya soon. »

She stays put. Letting the message record for a few more extra seconds before she actually realises it. Having trouble getting down the ladder cause of the wine she had earlier, the girl missed a step. She somehow manages to fall right on her feet, hurting her left ankle a bit. Slowly but surely, Cc finally made it back to her place safely. Once at home, she started to pack. At the moment, she didn’t feel anything. Not a single emotion. Emptiness perhaps ? Or the impression of being disconnected ? She doesn’t know. She’s doing her bag like she was a little robot until she saw her own reflection into the window. With a hesitant step, she got closer and closer to the reflection. « My god I look pathetic. » thinking to herself. Her makeup makes her look like a damn panda. Her hair looks like she hadn’t sleep for days. She slightly touches her own face before putting the hand away almost immediately. Instead of continuing packing, she took her phone and sat by the window. Looking for a long time for the first plane to Egypt available. Once she did find what she was looking for, she stands up. Looking longingly to the bags she was packing. Cc won’t need any. She doesn’t know what she’ll find over there. Perhaps nothing good. But she needs to know. As her only friend for the trip, she just took her purse and left her home.

After what seems an eternity waiting, Cecilia is finally on that damn plane. Sitting by the plane window, all by herself thankfully, she took her earphones and unplugs herself from the harsh reality. With the lovely melody of the blade runner soundtrack, the girl fell into Morphée’s embrace. Somewhere, at the other end of the world, a phone rings in the middle of the night. The man was sleeping peacefully for once. But he mumble something under his breath as soon as he hears the notification. He sat on his bed and finally dare to look at that message. He then took his glasses out once he recognized the face on the vid. Richard was happy to see Cecilia again for a fraction of second until he notices the crack in her voice. He was analyzing every detail to know what’s going and to try to take a guess at what’s making her upset. Starting to get worried and overthinking, he puts a hand over his mouth and rewatches the message again and again. She has been drinking and is probably making a serious mistake. He puts the phone down and sight, massaging his temple. Richard suddenly had an idea. Getting out of his bed pretty quickly, he started working on his computer. He tried finding her with the many differents cameras of every airport in the city. Then launch a facial recognition with mid 50 years old men in Egypt. A few long minutes later, he finally finds a result. Got the « wanted » mention all over his face. The man Cc was looking for was a very known and wanted mastermind criminal. Richard immediately thought she was walking straight into the biggest trap of her life. « Guess I’ll see you in Egypt. Please don’t do anything stupid. » he says. Richard then took a long hard look to the bracelet Cecilia gifted him in high school before they part ways. The inscriptions almost erased by the time. The most precious and secret thing he has owned so far. The bracelet is getting old, obviously. He’s slightly rubs it with his finger before getting up and ready to face the woman he had a crush on after so many months. Hoping it wasn’t too late.

[kukukape]

Baby boy looks so tired, I love it. And Lily looks ✨dapper✨

I DID A THING. AND I FEEL HAPPY.

Lily: BUSINESS! SUITCASE! PATRIOTISM!

Malik: that's not how I sound!

Lily: Sophisticated! Elegant! Bossy Boss Boss!

Heres concept

[kukukape]

Context: Richard's childhood friend is the operative. He's thinking about how he's going to have to inevitably betray them, and smiling at the thought of what could've been…