#█ Agent Synched

[itsharleystuff]

- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ 𝐌Í𝐀 ❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌

Gif not mine!

— 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Javier Peña x afab!fem reader (implied hispanic/latina)

— 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.3k

— 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After a major fight between the two of you, a month goes by in which you give each other the silent treatment, figuring out if you should start seeing different people. However, Javier has a problem: he can’t get his dick hard for anyone that isn’t you. So, when he sees how easily you can move on from him, he gets awfully jealous.

— 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ content (minors dni!), sex, possessive/jealous behavior, unprotected sex, p in v, cuffs, slight dirty talk, semi-public sex, use of ‘slut’, pet names (sweetheart, corazón, cariño, hermosa, etc.), praise kink, come eating, oral sex (f! & m! receiving), mentions of drugs, smoking, a bit of angst, very little plot (mostly filth), weirdly structured plot. I think that’s it.

— a/n: there’s some phrases and words in Spanish, some are translated and some aren’t. Let me know if translations are needed :)

No use of y/n.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Javier Peña has never been a jealous man.

It's simply never been in his nature, not even when he was a child playing around with toys that he loved to share. And nowadays? Well, he had other stuff in mind that didn't leave any room for those pedestrian feelings.

As of now, he -supposedly- didn't have anything to be worried about. Specially not women.

Everyone knew he fucked hookers so good that they'd spill all their secrets in his ear, and that he was attractive enough to leave a bar with company just after a couple of minutes from arriving there. But to anyone observant, it was obvious how bad he had it for you.

Still, that didn't stop him from being an asshole.

You remember the last time you two spoke and how it turned out to be a fucking disaster: basically, he didn't like the idea of exclusivity because it involved feelings that he wasn't ready to admit, so you had called him a slut (along with many other insults) and he'd said that you were childish and sensitive. So naturally, everything went downhill after that fight.

Currently, things were pretty tense with Javier, even at work. But things just got worse when the Colombian police sent you onto an undercover mission, nothing really extravagant but still quite dangerous. And apparently, the DEA knew nothing about it.

The task was rather simple: you'd go to one of Medellin's busiest nightclubs and find out if there was a cocaine distribution line working there. The problem was what the agent had overheard from Carrillo. Not only did he knew now that you were at the place, but he also had word that one of the cartel's most wanted sicarios was about to be there too. And knowing the Coronel as well as he did, you were right in the middle of a crossfire. He arrived at the club earlier than any of them, hoping to find you quickly and draw you out before the asset came in.

But, oh hell.

What he saw the minute he stepped in almost made him lose his shit.

⩇⩇:⩇⩇

You had no business being in there this late. You'd already passed down all the information needed to your boss and now you were just waiting for the cartel's member to arrive so you could call Carrillo and let him finish the job.

But in the meantime, you decided to at least try and have some fun. After everything that went on with Peña, you felt like you deserved a distraction.

The music was loud, reggaetón reverberating in your body as you danced, eyes wide awake in case the target decided to show up. The stranger you were dancing with had his hands all over your body, holding you close to him while you moved in synch. He was handsome in a boyish way, and a bit clumsy, but good enough to take your mind off from the irritating DEA agent. At least for now.

To be honest, you didn't lack any attention at the moment. Both men and women would come up to you, hoping to get a piece of what you had to offer. It came without saying that everything about you tonight resulted appealing to the kind of people that frequented the place, being an undercover assignment you did your best to blend in. And it seemed to work out wonderfully. The flashy makeup and short dress that only accentuated your figure made you stand out amongst the rest; nevertheless, what really attracted everyone's gaze wasn't any of that, but the confidence with which you'd walk around the place like you owned it.

"¿Qué tal si nos vamos pa' un lugar más oscurito, mamacita?" (How about we go to a more private place?) The guy, whose name you didn't even know, proposed. And though the idea sounded nice, your job wasn't quite finished.

"Not yet, papi. Dame un par de canciones más." (Let's dance a bit more). He hummed in response, his hands traveling from your lower back to grab your ass firmly.

"Usted manda." (You call the shots). The answer made you smile cheekily as you lean in to him, hoping to connect his lips with yours.

However, you definitely didn't expect to be abruptly pulled back with force instead, ripping you apart from the man's hold.

"What the hell..." you start to complain and twist in the strangers grasp, who started to drag you out the dance floor and keeping your wrists behind your back.

"Hombre, ¿pero qué diablo' le pasa?" (What's wrong with you, man?). Asked your poor companion, glancing over at the guy that took you away from him.

But you knew exactly who he was even before he spoke. You'd recognize that musky cologne anywhere, mixed with the scent of cigarette smoke. Damn, even your body recognized him so well that the way his fingertips dig on your skin flooded your mind with memories from the past.

"Peña." You mutter through gritted teeth, not bothering to turn your head towards him.

"It's agent Peña to you, sweetheart." He snarls, completely blowing off anyone that would try to get in his way to lug you outside.

A new, fueled up rage crept up your spine while he harshly pulls you to te entrance, right were you see the colonel's target going in.

"Let go of me, mierda!" You struggle against him, not wanting to actually put on a fight but just make him reason. "I have a fucking job to do, so let go of me or..."

"Or what?" Javier spins you around carelessly, leaving your face so close to his that your breaths merged with each other's, chest pressed against your own as he keeps you still, his hands gripping you so hard that it would certainly leave bruises.

"I need to call Carrillo. I'm working, even if you don't believe it." You tell him, letting your racing heartbeat start to settle.

The man's eyes were dark, covered by a shadow of anger that matched his stern expression. He was always handsome, but whenever he'd get mad, Javi was hot. Although it was unusual for you to see him like this, him being always attentive and careful, though still very passionate. He would never explode, not even when the stress and tension became too much to handle. But then, you realize...

"No way..." you scoff, keeping direct eye contact. "You're jealous, aren't you?"

His reaction is immediate, turning your body again and flushing your face against the trunk of his jeep Cherokee, bending you over the car. You gasp audibly, feeling the cold metal under your cheek and his body towering upon you while he holds you down by the back of your neck. Javier's lips brush the top of your ear when he leans down to you.

"The fuck do I need to be jealous about, cariño?" He whispers lowly, his hot breath giving you goosebumps and making your knees tremble. "Eres mía, you've always been."

Ah, fuck.

Despite all the shit that you went through with him, the effect he had on you remained the same. No matter what, the agent was aware of it, conscious of how you'd always melt under his touch, he just knew all your sweet spots by core memory and what'll have you squirming underneath him. Yeah, even if your mind tried it's best to erase Peña, your body would always betray you.

"You lost your chance." You mutter in a bittersweet tone. "Now get the hell off me so I can finish my task."

He doesn't instantly let go, but eventually loosens the grip on your nape. Though right when you thought he'd actually let you free, there's a cold metallic sensation brushing on your wrist and you suddenly can't move your arms from your back. The motherfucker had just cuffed you.

"Malparido, hijo de..." You ramble, straightening your back to glance at him in exasperation.

"Don't move." He growls, opening the driver's door and taking his radio out. The agent starts to talk through it, but you're way too outraged as to pay any attention, your vision going red when you catch your name, the words 'Carrillo', 'sicario' and the place were you're at, figuring out that he's doing the part of the job that corresponded to you.

"You're sick, Peña." There's no reply to the snarky comment as he simply shoves you in the back of his truck, rather carefully, considering the situation.

You watch intently while he gets back on his seat, analyzing every detail about him. It wasn't anything special, you had seen him quite often at work after your fight, and nonetheless, now... Something seemed off.

Javier was wearing a red button shirt under his black leather jacket, from which he drew out a pack of cigs and a lighter. He appeared the same, however, you could sense the tension on his shoulders and back, the kind you'd help him deal with before, and it almost felt like he was holding back from doing something. Heck, you hated it. You completely despised arguing with him, being apart from the man almost made you physically unwell.

But that was the root of this whole problem. You were able to admit it; how much you liked him and didn't want anyone else. Him on the other hand, wasn't ready for all that. Although, despite him implying that he couldn't fully commit or correspond to your feelings... Right now, his actions were very contradicting.

Because Javier Peña never got jealous.

And yet, there he was.

Perhaps, if you spurred him on just enough and cornered him in a trap... Perhaps then, he'd be able to admit it. 

"So what now, agent?" You wonder, laying your back flat on the leather sit, feeling the coldness of the material on your exposed skin and trying to find a comfortable position. "You mind explaining yourself?"

He looks at you through the rear-view mirror, brows furrowed and jaw clenched. A challenging fire shines in your eyes when you lock glances with him. But he doesn't say anything, simply starting the car and getting the windows down before lighting up a cigarette.

"What about you, sweetheart?" He asks, the fag hanging from between his lips as he starts driving away from the club. "Care for elaborating on your actions?"

You snort, gaze diverting towards the window. "I was just killing time."

The streets of Medellin were loud and busy, specially on the weekends. But at the moment, the paths were dark and quiet, as if everyone knew that there was a storm coming and they had to stay out of the hood.

"So that's your idea of 'killing time'?" He comes again, tapping the cigar out his window to leave the ashes behind. "Letting random men grope you in those wrenched bars?" You grin, still defying him with your attitude. "And yet, I'm the slut..."

"You must certainly are, Peña." You reply condescendingly, watching the road. "When I was with you, that was it. No one else even crossed my mind. But then, you? How many other women did you have besides me?"

He grunts, taking a long drag without looking back in your direction. You recognize certain spots and locals, but none of them were anywhere close to your apartment. Instead of asking were he was taking you to, the idea you previously had lingers on your mind.

Red light.

"You know, ever since we... Well, ghosted each other. I've actually had tons of fun." His eyes darkened, but no matter all the warning signs he was sending with his body, you just couldn't hold back anymore, starting to play a game that might get out of control. "Actually, you know that guy working with the CIA? Balcázar?"

Javier looked so gorgeous while driving. His big hands over the lever and muscles flexing whenever he'd make sudden moves. Even now, tense as an arrow an white-knuckling the wheel at your words, he was the hottest man you'd seen.

"Shit, he’s good..." you purr, slightly arching your back so he'll get a better view of your breasts, barely contained in that tiny dress you were wearing. "I really miss him. Hated it when he went back to New York."

His stormy glare was on you, watching closely every single move you made. Your legs were briefly parted, just enough for him to peek a sight of your laced underwear. The agent's breathing became ragged and he had to try his best to stay concentrated.

"Careful, cariño." You hear him rasp out with a hint of danger. "You really don't want to go there."

Green light.

He puts the cigarette out and throws the tail away carelessly.

"Ay, Peña." Your voice goes an octave lower, licking your lips. "Don't act like you haven't been to every brothel in the city trying to fill in my spot."

The man huffs a laugh, shaking his head in disapproval. "I know what you're doing." You look at him through your lashes, faking innocence and confusion. "But if you really want me to say it, there hasn't been anyone else."

"Yeah, right..." That mocking tone was really getting on his nerves.

"Not even when we were together." Javi sulks out.

"Then why was it so difficult for you to be serious with me?" You question grimly. "Do you not like me?"

His eyes bore back into yours somberly, as if you'd just said the stupidest thing in the world despite the graveness in your voice and expression, lazily scanning you head to toe.

"Like you?" It sounded like he was struggling not to come off sardonic, cocking an eyebrow at you. "I can't believe you just asked me that."

You lean in towards him when he takes an unexpected turn, inhaling his particular scent mixed with the leather and smoke. Suddenly, he parks the car someplace dark and empty that resembled an abandoned gas station. Kind of creepy, but you recognized the area now. It was a neighborhood located a couple of blocks away from his apartment.

"Why?" You coo, taunting, patiently testing how much he'd spill. But Javier won't meet your glance, focused on the nothingness ahead of him.

"Because I can't even get my dick hard for any other women, for fucks sake!" He howls, rubbing his face with his palm, clearly pissed.

At first, you thought he must've been joking. But the way he said it came out so frustrated that it made it hard to believe he was lying. His bold statement gave you a rush of power, knowing that you had him in mind and body, the man that made every woman he acquainted feel like a schoolgirl crushing on a senior. You understood why he was so mad right now; it wasn't only cause he was jealous, but because he hated seeing that you could easily move on to the next man while he remained stuck.

Though it was a lie. You only responded to him and you wanted to prove him that. But Javier had to acknowledge the mistake he made.

"Perhaps you're just old." You teased, "Have you tried pills for that?"

His reaction was so unexpected that you had barely any time to process the circumstances. He got out the car and opened the passenger's seat, tugging at your arm to get you out the jeep apprehensively.

"Take a guess, sweetheart." He grits next to your ear, his chest pressed to your back.

"Fucking hell..." you mewl at the feeling of Javier's hard boner firm against your ass. His hands hold your waist for a second before manhandling you to the edge of the back passenger's seat, hunching down in front of you with both hands gently gripping the exposed flesh of your thighs and looking up at you with fiery eyes.

"If you want me to say it, fine." He bites, giving up. "I made a mistake. It was stupid." Then his tone denotes the way he's struggling to contain anger. "I can't bear it. Seeing you with other men... It drives me insane. I can't even think straight- shit, I almost blew a whole ass operation tonight just because I saw you dancing with that guy." You gulp, remembering how furious he was just a few moments ago. "But let's not fool ourselves, cariño. We both know you haven't slept with anyone else either."

How he figured that out was a mystery to you. Maybe he truly was a very good agent.

There isn't a retort in your behalf. What could you possibly say anyway? He had you figured out already, he always did.

Back in the day, when you first started working with him, Javier acted like a complete shithead. Him an Murphy would give you a hard time with the DEA, always getting in trouble, messing up your schedules and bribing confidential information out of you. That's how you grew closer to him. Peña used to invite you for dinner or beers as an apology, granted that he always looked forward to take you back to his apartment, of course. Except you had heard the rumors regarding his reputation, and that was a well in which you weren't particularly eager to fall in, specially since he was a coworker.

Yet, it was all in vain. How could you ever say no to him if he'd look at you with those sparkly, deep brown eyes that resembled a lost puppy? You fell for Javi's smug smirk, the groovy hair, plus that confident and bite-back attitude of his, knowing how it would eventually end. Even so, no one could really blame you. He acted different around you, people were able to tell, brighter, more open and honest.

"See, I'm sorry about what I said..." you start, but he cuts you off.

"Don't be. I deserved that shit." The man stands up, taking a bunch of keys from the pocket of his jeans and going to take off the cuffs. "You should feel sorry for all those poor guys you toyed with while thinking about me the whole time."

You stretch your arms and massage your wrists, unwilling to meet his intense gaze, conscious that you'd fall for his charm immediately. He worked smarter, grabbing your chin to raise your face towards him.

"Did you enjoy it?" He hissed, fingertips digging on your jaw with moderate force. "Having other men grab your ass while everyone watches? Teasing the hell out of me in the office with those obscenely tight skirts and talking to Murphy as if I wasn't right beside him?" Your tongue darts out to lick your lower lip, not breaking eye contact. "Answer me, corazón."

"Yes," you respond cockily, "I enjoyed it." His face swiftly sobered, a muscle feathering in his jaw. "But I didn't think it had any effect on you, so it felt like a waste of time and effort."

Javier laughs huskily, bending forward. You close your eyes, thinking he's going in for a kiss, but instead his lips go to rest on your jawline, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your neck and all the way down to the valley of your breasts. As of now, you're a panting mess, already turned on by his adamant behavior. The fact that you were finally getting to feel him like this after a month or so of completely ignoring each other... It felt divine.

Your tug at his shoulder as he keeps nibbling the sensitive skin. The agent knew your body better than anyone else ever could, he'd memorized all the spots that would have you moaning and squirming underneath him, which was the case just now.

"Javi..." you sigh, running your hand through his hair.

"You're such a fucking brat." He reflects, kneeling between your parted legs. "A month ago I was merely a ghost to you, a few minutes prior I was simply 'Peña'. But when my lips are on you I'm suddenly 'Javi'?" He boasts with a devilish grin. "How convenient..."

"Mmm..." he laughs gruffly at your loss of words, his fingers hooking your underwear beneath the dress and slowly pulling it down.

At this point you're so wet it's embarrassing. It was probably due to the lack of sex you've had recently, or perhaps you were really growing fond of this new phase of his and the idea of Javier being possessive over you.

"Don't you dare look away." He warns roughly, peeling the fabric off you with a tad of your help. "Keep your eyes on me. I'll only tell you this once."

You nod eagerly. "Javi, are we- are we going to do it here?" It wouldn't be a new thing, you've done similar stuff in the past, though never in such an open space, despite appearing deserted. "Your place is barely a few blocks away..." His lips graze the soft skin of your upper leg, the feeling of his mustache raising goosebumps on your body.

"Can't wait." He stated, voice tinted with lust whilst his palm caresses your calf. "Need you now."

Somehow that made the pit of your stomach feel warmer. The rush of excitement coming from that desire he had for you had gave a thrill of control, completely ignoring how he was the one in charge of this situation. Javier carefully slips your dress upwards, taking in every single reaction you had to his touch and cursing at the sight of your throbbing pussy. The heat of his breath against your exposed core only increased your arousal, seemingly encouraging him.

"Shit, this cunt really did miss me, huh?" You nod again, basking in the contact of his nose brushing your clit, sending shivers down your spine.

In spite of your low whimpers of need, he deliberately denied you of his touch were you most needed him, simply roaming his lips and fingers over your inner thighs and pubic bone. Desperate, you scratch his scalp softly, pulling a groan from him.

"Javi, please..." he was definitely going to make you beg for it, regardless of how much he wanted it too. 

"Did you let anyone else do this to you?"

"No." You breathe out.

"Good." His thumb suddenly falls on your clit, rubbing slow circles. You squeal from the spontaneousness of the action, squeezing your eyes shut for a second. "This is mine." Then he slides down his finger to slightly part your swollen lips, coating it with your slick. "All mine."

"Sí, Javi."

"That's right, corazón." He murmurs, slipping two digits into you. "I'm going to fuck you so good that you won't ever think about anyone else." He sets a pace pretty quickly, pumping his fingers in and out, curling them to hit all the right spots. "I'm the only man for you. Understand that?"

"Yes, shit-" you choke down a moan when he mildly pinches your nub. "You are."

He makes a satisfied noise before diving in your pussy, starting to lick and kiss your clit without pulling out his fingers, maintaining a relentless pace and rejoicing himself in the sounds he'd pull from you.

"Fuck, that's good..." you manage to say, knowing how he likes the praise, your hand messing up his hair.

Javier pulls away for a second, grabbing your thighs to part them further and place your legs over his shoulders eagerly, hungrily looking up at you. You arch your back, ever so responsive to him while struggling to maintain a hold of yourself.

"So pretty." He whispers, admiring how your chest goes up and down from your rag breathing, your face contorted by pleasure as his fingers disappear in your cunt, the squelching sounds of your pussy and the moans spilling from your lips making him painfully hard. "Toda mía."

Your legs were already shaking, your body being so sensitive and needy. Specially for him. Always for him. But it wasn't enough and you both knew that. Though before you can beg him for more, his mouth takes place were his digits used to be, eating you out as if you were his favorite meal, lapping you up kind of selfishly, almost like he did it for his own pleasure.

"Javi, that's-" you can't even form coherent sentences without being interrupted by your cries of pleasure. "Too fucking good."

His tongue is hot and soft between your folds, licking up your slit as he rubs tight circles on your clit, fucking you greedily and moaning graciously against your slickness. Also, the image of him between your legs was always a sight to see, adding to the pool of arousal. You start seeing white spots and the knot in your lower stomach starts to loosen as the orgasm approaches, gripping the leather seat as if your life depended on it. It's a good thing that he's holding you, cause in a matter of seconds your whole body starts to tremble and his name leaves your lips repeatedly.

"I can't- shit!" You pull his hair involuntarily and he groans in response, the sound vibrating through your core and pushing you to the edge. "I'm gonna..."

You can't even finish speaking before you're coming undone in his mouth, feeling the hot waves of satisfaction wash over you. He doesn't pull away until you're practically whining from the overstimulation, trying to regain composure as he licks you clean. When he does, his eyes peer at you, intoxicated with desire as he starts to stand on his feet, towering over you.

"I missed that sweet taste of yours." He licks his glistening lips and you wish he'd finally kiss you. "Can't get enough of it."

Your hands reach his belt, trying to unbuckle it, but he takes your wrists to stop you.

"What's wrong?" You question, genuinely confused.

"I'm taking you to my apartment. I'm doing this properly." He retorts. However, you're too turned on now to care about the place.

"Please Javi, let me do something for you." One thing that made him go stupidly insane for you was the way you were never coy when asking for his cock, looking up at him with pleading eyes. As if having him on your throat gratified you. "I need you."

He almost caved in. Almost.

"Stop that or I'll cuff you again." He grumbles, only making you smile.

"Do it. I don't need hands, I can always take you in my mou-" Javier flips your body abruptly, pressing your face against the seat, and you can hear the familiar sound of metal clipping in.

"Such a greedy slut." He fixes your dress, not without subtly smacking your ass beforehand.

"Mm, can I at least get my panties back?" You ask in defeat, turning to face him, but he was already shutting the door.

"No." He quickly starts the car as you settle on the back, catching a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror. Your cheeks were flushed and lips plump from biting them, eyes still sparkling from the high post-orgasm.

"Do you like me like this?" You wonder as he begins driving. "All fucked out, cuffed and ready for you to take?"

Peña doesn't answer immediately, not daring to look back at you but desperately wanting to do it.

"I do." He answers, eyes on the road. "I like you naked. And dressed too, specially with those pretty skirts. I like it when you tell me how your day was, or when you're reading quietly." His words make your heart flutter, blushing harder. "I like listening to your voice, and the way your gaze always seems interested whenever I talk about me. Shit, I even like you when you're ignoring me." You can almost hear his smile, if that made any sense. "I like you all the damn time, hermosa."

Honestly, you weren't expecting such a straightforward answer, finding yourself at loss of words. Nonetheless, you didn't need to say anything, cause sooner than expected you were being taken out of the truck, flashes of the building he resided in passed right in front of your eyes while he dragged you through the dark, silent halls.

"Javi..." despite having limited mobility, you lean towards him, whispering in his ear. "Please kiss me."

He laughs dryly at your plea and struggles to open the door. "You want that, huh? ¿Quieres que te bese?" Then he takes your arm to drag you in, closing the door behind him.

"Yes, mi amor. I missed you so fucking much." You stay close to him, your face nuzzled on the crook of his neck. His hand brushes the hair out of your face and he presses his lips to your temple.

"Hm, is that right?" He hums and you can feel it against your nose. "Didn't seem so."

You back off swiftly, keeping your eyes locked with his. "I'm sorry, Javier. I really am."

Something shifts in his gaze, a possessive, deep emotion takes over him and he decides to take you up on your previous proposition.

"Prove it." He commands, voice hoarse. "Show me how much you missed me." The idea of getting what you wanted pursed your lips in a mischievous smirk. "I'll kiss you afterwards if I'm convinced."

Instead of responding, you start peppering kisses all over his jaw and neck, going as far along his chest as the buttons of his shirt would allow you. He lazily unbuckles his belt and pants while you lower yourself to your knees in front of him, but doesn't bother to go any further. It was going to be difficult, though nothing you haven't done before, nearly forgetting the cuffs as you craved his taste.

You rub the side of your face on his stiff erection, feeling how hard and hot he was under the tight fabric of his jeans and a low groan scratches his throat. You mouth at it before taking the zip between your teeth and sliding it down, eyes peering up at him at the same time. Javier observes every move attentively, his cock twitching at the sight of your lust-drunken gaze, breath starting to become unsteady when you kiss and lick the head of his dick over the thin fabric of his boxers. You taste the precum throughout it, salty and good, before pulling down his underwear by lightly biting the elastic.

Your mouth waters at the view, jaw going slack even before taking him in your mouth. His girth slaps against his clothed belly, tip red and leaking, just as big as you remember. Shit, you really had missed him. Javier's hand tangles in your hair, running his fingers in between the locks lovingly. He gasps when you press your lips to the slit, kitten licking the top and starting to spread wet kisses all over his length, running your tongue along the shaft, his musky scent getting to your head quite fast. He loved how every time you were on your knees for him it felt like you adored him, as much as Javier did you.

And it was true. Knowing how good you made him feel satisfied your senses, every expression and single noise he'd make could turn you on and push you to edge so easily. The man was simply delightful.

“Fuck, sweetheart…” he sighs, caressing your cheekbone with his thumb when you finally suck him in. “That’s it, wrap those gorgeous lips around my cock. So pretty…”

He lets out a gruffly moan as you take him further, watching as he screws his eyes shut and throws his head back, the sound so divine that it immediately makes your pussy clench around nothing. Javier is thick. And it’s always so hard to get him all in your mouth, but this time you make a double effort. You run your tongue against the veins on the underside of his dick, enjoying the weight of it in you, the taste and the admirable sight of him coming undone while he tries his best not to start fucking your face without warning, laying his palms flat on the wall behind you.

“Shit- that’s…” he grumbles, head spinning from pleasure, unable to make up any thought or manifest anything into words. You start bobbing your head up and down his length, hollowing your cheeks to provide more warmth.

You’re dripping, feeling the slick run down your thighs and the ache becoming unbearable. You squeeze your legs together in order to release some of that need, letting out a whine that vibrates through him and makes his hips jolt into your mouth.

“Fucking hell…” Javier’s hand snakes to the back of your neck, massaging the soft skin. “Does it turn you on to get me off like this, hermosa?”

You hum in response and the feeling sends him to oblivion, letting out a coarse moan that shocks another wave of hotness between your legs.

“What a nasty girl you are.” He mumbles breathily, “My girl.” He’s practically shaking at this point, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat and your nose pressed against his pubic bone.

Air wasn’t a necessity at the moment, your ears ringing and the corners of your eyes watering. He warned you he was close but you didn’t back out, letting him hold you for support. He gasps out a raspy ‘fuck’ when he releases, hips stuttering and back arching slightly as his cum hits your tongue. You pull apart just enough to lap at the tip while he rides it out, feeling him throb in your mouth while you savor him until he’s completely spent, soft moans barely audible.

You wait until he opens his eyes again, brown gaze meeting yours between shaky breaths. “Will you uncuff me now, agent?”

He huffs a laugh, tugging himself back in his jeans before helping you get up and taking the metal cuffs off. For a second, none of you say a thing, simply staring back at each other with a swirl of emotions between you. But then he says your name, merely a whisper that makes you crumble.

“Don’t do that, Peña.” You scold, turning your back to him and walking towards the couch, taking a seat and listening to the leather crack under your weight.

“What do you mean?” He turns to you, hands on his hips, pants unbuttoned and hair messy.

“When you say my name like you need me and give me those puppy-dog eyes, I actually believe that you want me for anything other than sex.” He seems disappointed, mostly on himself. “So can we just fuck and get this over with?”

“Is that what you think I…?” Javier shakes his head and follows your direction, but only observes from above. “It’s not like that.”

You take off the heels, your feet starting to hurt. “Then how is it?”

His hand goes to your chin, urging you to look up at him. “I’m not good with this… I screwed up back in Texas and I did it again with you.” You gulp, your hands tightly gripping your knees. “I don’t know how to handle this sort of things, and it’s been a while since I felt like this for anyone…”

He takes the jacket off and sits on the edge of his coffee table in front of the sofa, cupping your face in his hands.

“All I know is that every time we’re together, nothing else matters. Things feel right. But when you’re not with me… Shit. Life becomes insufrible. I can’t sleep, can’t think, fuck, I can’t even have sex!” He looks genuinely irritated. “Everything’s about you when you’re away. And I can’t tolerate to see you with anyone else. It’s like someone just took a shot at me.”

You inhale sharply, taking his hand in yours without breaking eye contact. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve came back to you.”

“Precisely. I tried not to be selfish and let you go, but I can’t. It hurts too much.” He pouts, as if the mere thought made him sick. “And you deserve better.”

Inevitably, you roll your eyes. “Don’t bullshit me, Peña.” He furrows his brows at your reply, his palm falling from your cheek to his lap. “That’s crap! You think you know what’s best for me?”

“Well shit, I’m sorry for trying to look out for you.” Javier snarls back.

“I don’t need you to do that, you idiot.” You grab his jaw, taking him by surprise. “I know what I want and I was straightforward about it,” His heart starts thumping against his ribs. “So, if you want me, take me. Cause if you don’t… Someone else might.”

Your statement stirs his pot and his expression shifts. “Fuck no. You’re mine and I’m yours. That’s how this is going to work.”

“Yeah?” He lets out a throaty growl and leans down towards you.

“Yeah.” His mustache tickles your upper lip when he crashes his lips to yours and you whine into his mouth.

It was desperate and demanding, ripping all the emotions from you. Javier tasted like cigarettes, a hint of mint and of you. And you tasted like tequila, honey and of him. His cologne was a little faded, but you could still smell it.

“Say you’re mine, corazón.” He mumbles when he pulls back for air, forehead pressed to yours. “I don’t care if you’re lying, I need to hear it.”

You take him by the collar of his shirt so that he’s sitting down next to you, snaking your hand to press the palm against his bare chest.

“Soy tuya, Javi.” You tell him, laying a small kiss to his lips. “I mean it.”

He smiles cheekily as he pulls you on top of him, spreading your knees to each side of his thighs, your dress slipping upwards. Javier tugs a strand of hair behind your ear and his fingers roam your face as if he wanted to memorize every edge of it by tact alone. His thumb sweeps over your bottom lip carefully, parting your lips briefly before going to kiss you again. This time he does it slowly, taking his time with your lips prior to sliding his tongue past your teeth and relishing on your taste, almost like he wanted to lose himself in you.

To him, the world meant nothing if you weren’t by his side. And now that you were here, he intended to make the most of it.

His hands are everywhere: your waist, hips, lower back and butt, grabbing every bit of your flesh that he could, keeping you close. So close that it almost seemed like he wished to merge into you. You made out for what it appeared to be hours, until the kisses got sloppier but never less passionate, and you started grinding against him. You hold his shoulders for support, creating that delicious friction between your naked cunt and his stiff boner tucked in his pants. He jolts his hips up, making you release a whimper in his mouth.

He backed off, his lips now scrape your jawline, neck and collarbones. You arch your back when his hand slithers to pull down the zipper of your dress, granting him a better view of your tits close to his face.

“My room?” He asks, biting your earlobe mildly.

“Thought you’d never ask.”

Javi carries you to the bedroom with your legs wrapped around his waist, still finding a way to keep his lips on you in the meantime. Clothes disappear in the blink of an eye and you sit at the end of the sheets to help him take off his pants, kissing his abdomen, your dress now discarded somewhere on the floor.

“Eres preciosa.” The way he says it makes you blush, skin burning under his chocolate gaze. “I’m all yours, mi amor.”

You bring his face close to yours, infatuated with his beauty. “All mine…”

“Yes, corazón.”

You lay down on the mattress, Javier starting to play with your hard nipples, nibbling at them, sucking and kissing with his attention focused on all your reactions. You’re so aroused that you’re quite literally dripping onto his sheets, legs trembling from every light stimulation and skin scorching from desire, already spurred on by the make out and giving him head.

“Please, Javi… I- need you inside.”

He wastes no time to compel, maneuvering a hand to your lower back and aligning himself to your entrance, keeping your legs spread. You feel him inside, splitting you open with no previous warning and the tight grip of your cunt feels like homecoming to him. You hold your breath until he bottoms out, enjoying the sweet stretch he provided. Then your whole body quivers, a sheen layer of sweat covering both his golden skin and yours, a couple of curly locks sticking to his temples from it.

You watch him from below through hooded eyes, every inch of him inside you making you feel so full and complete, the outline of his fingers dig in your waist to keep you angled. You bear down on his cock, enveloping him in the warm, welcoming grasp of your body. He holds your hand above your head and leans down to kiss you again, drowning his own moans in your mouth as he draws out slowly to set a pace with his hips, the wet sounds of you pussy and skin clapping against skin sending a thrill of excitement down his spine.

You get it then, as he pours out all sentiment into you, overcome by passion. He is yours. Even though he just said it, only now does it become evident to you. This is Javier’s way of proving it.

He grabs one of your thighs and lifts your knee to the crook of his elbow, the new angle spreading you further open and allowing him to hit deeper. The impact of his tip hitting every right spot relentlessly forces you to break apart from his lips, your head thrown back into his pillows while practically screaming for more, his face nuzzled in your chest as he melts into you.

“Shit baby, I won’t last.” He warns, sinking his teeth to leave a mark between your breasts. You can feel it too, hot shots of ecstasy creeping up the pit of your stomach every time his cock jumps inside you.

You tug at his hair, a strangled moan escaping his lips. “Do it in me- Please, fill me up.”

Your request sends him right to the edge, his thrusts becoming careless as he starts grinding into you, Javi’s fingers quickly finding your swollen clit. The sole touch made you writhe and reach your high in absolute bliss, clenching your walls around him and crying out from raw pleasure. He fucks you through it, overwhelmed by the sensation. You feel dizzy, barely conscious when he finds his own release, your name spilling from his lips like it was the only word he knew, coming in warm spurts inside you. His spend is dripping from your pussy and thighs when he pulls out and sits up to admire the absolute mess he just made of you.

“Well…” he says, guiding his finger to push his seed back into you, making you whine from the overstimulation. “Hope that made it clear.”

You smile, every muscle in your body weeping from exhaustion. “Yeah… I’ll have to make you jealous more often.”

He groans in annoyance and you pull him back on top of you, spreading tender kisses all over his face, laughing in the meantime.

“Not funny.” He grumbles, despite the grin forming on his lips. Javier rolls to your side, coming to lay down next to you and immediately holding you against his sturdy chest, wrapping his arms around your waist to spoon you. “Stay with me.”

His plead is barely a murmur that filters through your ears and you’re too tired to figure out what those words actually mean. You simply let your eyelids drop and retort with a hardly audible ‘always’.

[porcelainseashore]

Ghosts from the Past (7)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Agent! Leon Kennedy x Dancer! Informant! Fem! Reader

Summary: 7 years after leaving behind everything you’ve known, you’re suddenly thrust into facing a ghost from your past, Leon. Navigating where you stand with him brings up old memories, painful truths and countless questions. At the same time, you have to deal with a bunch of strange occurrences at your dance company. Set after Resident Evil 4 Remake.

Warnings: 18+ Swearing, Recreational Drug Use, Alcohol, Eventual Smut, No (Y/N), Canon-Typical Horror and Violence, Blood, Injury, Torture, Infection, Medical Experiments, Psychological Trauma, Nightmares

Content: Post-Resident Evil 4, Exes to Lovers, Partners to Lovers, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Lack of Communication, Romance, Fluff

Author's Note: Just a quiet, little chapter to bring this series to a close. I’ve returned to my fluff roots, so expect that, some hurt/comfort and domestic coziness. Thank you’s will be at the end!

AO3 Link

Chapter 7: Begin Again

It felt like you had been in the strangest dream, one which you couldn’t recall the contents of, the next time you opened your eyes. You awoke in the sterile brightness of a hospital room, tubes trailing from your arms and the steady beep of the monitor synching with your heartbeat. Everything was still in a haze and your mind was foggy, like you had been anesthetized.

Something was clutching your hand. Another hand? You wriggled your fingers, trying to get rid of the sensation of pins and needles that hung heavily to your entire body. The smell of earth, rusty metal, and sweat permeated the air, triggering a brief memory that encapsulated what had come to pass. Your gaze landed on a light blonde mane at the side of the bed, matted but radiant like a golden halo from the sunlight that filtered into the room.

Then, it shifted groggily, and a face which had initially been buried under the blanket and sheets, slowly peered up at you. Blinking a couple of times as if he couldn’t trust what he was seeing, his grip around your hand tightened.

“Leon?” You called out, your voice crackling and raspy, like a dry sheet of paper.

His face was bloodied and bruised, but a slanted smile lit up across it. You noticed that he was still in the same combat gear from the time at Silje’s underground lair, apart from his firearms and knife, which were unholstered and secured by the bedside table. He looked like he hadn’t showered for days. How long had you been here?

As you tried to sit yourself up, a dull, aching pain coursed through your left shoulder, causing you to emit a low groan in discomfort. Leon planted a hand gently on your chest, motioning for you to lay down. “No, baby. You need to rest.”

Brushing the back of his fingers against your cheek, he echoed the promise he had made to you, “I told you I wouldn’t let them get you.”

“I never doubted that.” 

Closing your eyes, you cupped your good hand over his. He dipped his head and his silken lips met yours, soft and cautious, as if you were a precious treasure. Your noses nudged each other and his warm breath tickled your skin, as he kissed you tenderly, tasting and breathing every essence of you in.

The sound of someone clearing their throat sharply interrupted your private exchange. Leon pulled away at lightning speed, as if he had been caught red-handed stealing candy from a baby, and you observed a dust of pink spread over his cheeks, as he looked down towards the ward floor. It reminded you of the times when you were younger and he was still figuring out his feelings for you, so much so that you giggled involuntarily in response. He delivered a piercing side eye that came with a hint that you were going to be in trouble later. You bit your tongue, trying to rein in your laughter.

“Oh, great, I see you are awake,” the nurse who had chanced upon your clandestine moment sighed warily. 

“Mr. Kennedy,” she nodded in his direction, both in acknowledgement and as a subtle indication that he had overstayed his welcome. “I still need to run the last screening tests on the patient.”

“Was just about to-”

“Hmph.” She wrinkled her nose, shaking her head in disgust. “You should do something about that god awful stench!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes as he got up to leave. 

Turning towards you, he gave your hand another lingering squeeze. “I’ll be back within the hour.”

“Make that two,” the nurse asserted sternly. “Personal hygiene, Mr. Kennedy,” she pointed out again, as he waved her off dismissively, silently striding out of the room.

Eventually, you were informed that you had been cleared of the infection, largely thanks to the serum Leon had administered to you on-site. They had to extract the remaining lumps of mold from you when your body had stabilized after the blood transfusions. So, you were free, but still being monitored, just like the other dancers who had been infected. Except, they were kept in the dark about their treatments and were never told the truth about their symptoms.

Your snapped shin had healed up pretty well due to the mold, but unfortunately your shoulder would take a longer time, meaning that you wouldn’t be able to dance professionally for a while. It was too early to tell if this spelled the definite end of your career, but you tried to stay positive despite the obvious setbacks.

The theater base where The Connections had operated out of had been successfully closed down by Leon. Under the guise of discovering some unexploded World War II bombs, the area had been cordoned off, so that whatever remained of the place could be cleared out. It wasn’t as stealthy as the government had hoped for, but it did the job.

Things didn’t look so bright for Silje’s dance company however, as she was declared missing without any real leads, while your colleagues mourned her loss. The secret of what had actually transpired stuck with you, eating into you little by little each day, until you decided to steer the course of events in your own way. Before you were finally done with your life in Berlin for good, you had contacted the group of principal dancers, who were left lost without a leader. You attempted to convince them to take over the company as a collective, so as to honor Silje’s work as best as possible. In the end, she had become a monster, but you still loved her somehow. Maybe this would help to ease the guilt you felt, despite being thrown unwittingly into a situation you had no control over. You weren’t sure what results came out of your talk with your co-dancers, but you were hopeful that they would at least try.

The first few months of settling back into your home country was daunting initially. You’d not visited since you’d left. You hadn’t seen a reason to, only giving your parents a handful of calls each year, so that they knew you were alive. 

Leon had been by your side throughout your adjustment, and you appreciated him all the more for it. He was there during the bumpy road of recovery, where every move or touch hurt. Coughing, sneezing, and even breathing aggravated it. You’d roll over in your sleep and wake up in pain. He was there to comfort you when your physical state started to affect you mentally. You weren’t the same person anymore, you felt weak and crippled. Then, the nightmares came to haunt you, causing you to shun what you had loved doing since you were young, which was to dance. 

But Leon never gave up on you. He knew about the effects of muscle damage and the trauma you were suffering from, because he had been through it all himself. The main difference was that back then, he had no one with him to turn to, and he didn’t want the same to happen to you. As you began to heal, your mood lightened. It slowly felt like you could breathe again. You started taking turns caring for each other when the night terrors came. You’d learnt from him how to handle them and what the other person needed in the moment. You supported him as much as he supported you. And for that, he was grateful.

Even though blood no longer seeped through your dressing and most of your movement had come back, your body still remembered the pain. You’ve come to accept that it’ll always be a part of you and never go away. Now, you and Leon have matching pink scars on the same shoulder - a testimonial of the sacrifices you’ve made in the past. But you lived on to tell the story together.

━━━━━━━━━━━

It was one of those rare days where neither of you had woken up in the night with a start, sometimes screaming and breaking out in a cold sweat. However, you'd realized that such nights were gradually becoming less frequent.

The first rays of morning light slipped through the sheer curtains of the window of the bedroom you now shared with Leon, in the northeast of DC. It was a quieter, more residential part of town, that reminded you of where you grew up, though the irony of it was not lost on you. No matter how far you’d tried to run away from home, it still managed to catch up to you.

Casting a warm glow across the room, the light illuminated the dust motes dancing in the air and a couple of moving boxes stacked along the wall, which you had yet to unpack out of procrastination. A pair of arms were wrapped around your abdomen, cradling you like a bird’s nest; your very own sanctuary against the outside world. 

You sighed in bliss, enveloped in their tranquil embrace. It looked like it was going to be another lazy Sunday, but you couldn’t complain. Recently, you had finally plucked up the courage to connect with your dance roots again, by teaching it at the college nearby. So, weekends were reserved for quality time with Leon, which you cherished, seeing as he could be whisked away for missions without much warning.

As the light crept over the edge of the bed, the body next to you stirred. Chasing away sleep from his eyes, Leon rubbed them and yawned, kissing your neck as he murmured into your hair, “Is this real?” He pinched your arm, causing you to yelp and smack his hand playfully in return. You felt his smile against the back of your head.

“Cut it out.” You couldn’t keep a serious tone and he knew it. Turning to face him, you raised an eyebrow in challenge. “Come to think of it, I should be the one asking you that question.”

“Oh?” He humored you, waiting for your comeback in mild amusement.

“Talk about seeing a ghost from the past,” you teased.

He scoffed, before claiming your lips lovingly with his own. Taking in the sight of the room once more, he discovered a new addition to the wall. It was a photo booth strip of the two of you pulling silly faces back when you were teenagers and best friends. You had unearthed it by accident from one of the boxes not long ago.

“When did you put that up?” He probed out of curiosity, seemingly surprised at your ability to collect and preserve memories.

“Just yesterday.”

“Mm.” He carded his fingers through your hair, reliving the happiness encased in those set of photos. “We’ll make new ones.” 

New memories to decorate the rooms and hallways with. His apartment used to be cold and bare, merely functioning as a place to sleep, when he drowned himself in work as a distraction from the circumstances he had been forced into. He didn’t have someone to come home to. But now he had you. You started to fill the space with pieces of him and you - CDs of your favorite bands that you’d gifted each other like personalized mixtapes, old love letters containing your heartfelt confessions, a potted cactus plant from Hunnigan, a handmade greeting card from Sherry, a pile of vintage books from Claire, yellowed and worn at the edges… You’d arranged them diligently while he was out, busy at the office or in the field. As time went by, it grew more vibrant and bit by bit, it became a place both of you called home.

“You’re not going anywhere today, are you?” 

You drifted back from your reverie at Leon’s question. “No?”

“Good.” He drew you in closer, pulling you flush against his bare chest. “I’ll have you all to myself.��

He couldn’t get enough of you these days. Maybe it was the near-death experience or the thought of losing you again. He knew he had to ease up on his overprotectiveness at some point, even though he was afraid that the idyllic bubble you had built together might burst. The government had retired you from your duties for now, as you were no longer infected and had been relocated for your safety. However, you weren’t far out of their reach. They still monitored you from behind the scenes and Leon knew it was only a matter of time before they came knocking on the door again. A government lackey never truly retired. But he would be there beside you, making sure you wouldn’t get the short end of the stick again, even if it meant giving up something else in return. Somehow, both of you would find a way.

This time, it was your peck on his nose and prompting that brought him back to reality. “Don’t forget about the call.”

Right. That call. He sighed hesitantly. “What should I say? They probably won’t-”

You caressed his jawline stubble with your knuckles soothingly. “They will,” you affirmed. “You’re their son, and they love you.”

He looked at you almost teary-eyed as you pressed your lips against his, coaxing a faint moan from his mouth. “I’ll be there with you,” you reassured him.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, before a spark of recognition kindled in his eyes. “You hear that?”

The distant sound of a familiar guitar melody played on the radio alarm clock. As the male singer crooned in a husky tone, you grinned. It was cheesy, but it was the song you had danced to with Leon on your graduation night.

“May I?” He asked, offering his open palm to you, beckoning you to join him. Rolling your eyes in mock exasperation, you smiled and gave in. You grabbed his hand, rose to your feet and positioned yourself with him on the bedroom floor. Every now and then, he would try to help you form new associations with dancing, to replace the negative ones you had developed from the incident.

Your hands rested around his neck and his arms encircled your waist. He led and you followed, allowing him to guide you with each step and turn to the music, just as he had done so many years ago.

“What do you think our lives would’ve been like, if things were normal?” He reminisced out of the blue. “If Raccoon City didn’t happen?”

Gazing up at him reflectively, you paused for a moment in silence to contemplate the points he was raising.

“I guess I would’ve still been a cop,” he answered first, his voice tinged with bittersweet longing.

He pushed it down by cracking a joke at your expense. “But then I’d have had to see about that habit of yours.” Placing his mouth to your ear, he whispered, “My little pothead cheerleader.”

You groaned, punching his arm in a futile effort to wipe off the smirk that was plastered across his face.

He laughed in response, before his expression turned somber again. “I would’ve liked you to live with me though.”

“I know,” you admitted wistfully. “And if we could turn back time, I’d have said yes, over and over, undeniably.” 

Nestling your head into his neck, you continued, “When you were gone, I would’ve done anything to bring you back.”

“Baby…” his voice trailed off as he tucked his fingers under your chin, tilting your face towards him.

“I know what we have now isn’t perfect, but I wouldn’t change it for the world,” you professed, ultimately realizing it was better to live with Leon in the present than the past.

“Neither would I,” he concurred softly. “This is more than enough for me.” Closing the gap between the two of you, he deepened the embrace, and his lips found yours, sealing them together like a bond that couldn’t be broken.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Endnotes

So, that was the very final chapter! In case you’re interested, I imagined Leon and Reader living in Brookland and the song they danced to was Iris by Goo Goo Dolls.

It’s been an amazing journey with each and every one of you. Thank you for all your kindest words and support, my heart is full! I’ve never ever completed any of my previous fics, so I’m ecstatic that this is the first of its kind 🥰

Special thanks goes out to:

AliBelleRosetta, whom I’ve shared many fun brainstorming and venting sessions with.

Cameron, who looked through my work whilst dealing with my Leon fangirling.

Another shoutout I’d like to do is for a fic I was inspired by, and got me thinking about creating my own series. If you like, check out Chance Encounter by Iabyrinth.

Finally, I’m still deciding what to write next. I have a couple of ideas for one-shots that I might want to try my hand at. But feel free to let me know if there’s anything else you’d like to see in the comments. Thank you once again!

[lazybutsmexy]

A bedtime story

Ghost / GN!reader

Warnings: none! No romance involved.

Word count: idk I forgot to count, not very long though

Also I'm posting this at 2am so I'll check for mistakes some other time lol

A/N: just a silly idea I shared with @ragingbookdragon and I decided to write it more properly and share it with you, too :)

Inspired by this tiktok

~•~•~•~•~•~

Exfil had been confirmed for a couple hours into the future, and after some convincing from your part, Ghost laid down on a mat next to your sitting figure to get some sleep.

You couldn't help but watch him curiously out of the corner of your eye - it was sort of an open secret that he didn't get much sleep any day, and probably hasn't had REM sleep for a while. It seemed that the littlest things would rouse him from slumber, although most of the time it was the things inside his own brain that woke him up before he even had the chance to snore.

You stilled yourself as he shifted to a more or less comfortable position, with his elbows bent by the sides of his torso and his hands resting on his abdomen. There was an unwritten rule among his subordinates that stated that no one was allowed to make the slightest noise while he slept unless it was a life or death situation.

(It's not like you were all scared of waking him up, it's just that you all felt slightly bad for how little sleep he got in general.)

You checked your breathing until it was barely noticeable even to yourself, and your hold on your weapon was firm. Even the shift of your eyes between the exterior of the dingy little refuge you were waiting in for exfil and the dozing lieutenant next to you was calculated.

You were mentally preparing yourself to spend the next two hours as still and silent as a statue to not disturb Ghost, but a little sound coming from behind you changed your plans.

A soft snore coming from the man nearly gave you whiplash for how fast you turned your head to look at him. You could barely believe your ears, but your eyes weren't deceiving you. His eyes were fully shut, relaxed, and his chest moved up and down in synch with the snores.

Ghost? Snoring?

It should be impossible for him to fall into such deep sleep so quickly, it was inconceivable! It went against everything you knew about him and his sleeping patterns - or lack thereof.

Your mind ran through multiple scenarios searching for any possible reason for his sudden demise against Sandman. Was he concussed? Perhaps got a drug into his system? Or perhaps got exposed to some chemical agent? Should you radio Price and ask him to get a medical team in the exfil?

A soft murmur was caught by your ears, and you looked around for its origin. You studied the exterior of the refuge, but quickly realized the murmur was coming from behind you.

Slowly, you turned around and eyed the LT's headpiece. Was he listening to a podcast of some sort? Some people would listen to podcasts or nature sounds to go to sleep, surely Ghost probably found that to be helpful as well.

Curiosity killed the cat, you reminded yourself as you carefully slid your body closer to his head. Ghost in himself was a life threat, but a startled-awake Ghost was a death sentence, and with that in mind you thought your final good-byes to your family and friends as you leaned down closer to him, holding your breath as the shell of your ear was almost brushing the headpiece.

Your eyes were trained on his face the entire time, dreading the moment his eyes would inevitably snap open if you made the slightest wrong move.

And yet you nearly flinched when, after a brief pause in the talking, the voice began speaking again.

Sergeant Mactavish's voice.

It sounded low, soothing, almost purring as he told some story you couldn't quite make out. And Ghost's face has never looked so soft and relaxed as he slept.

Your shoulder began straining at the uncomfortable angle at which it was bent, and you carefully regained your sitting position. Another snore seemed to mark the end of a sentence, and you sat facing the exterior again, your mind reeling with the implications of your discovery, and you briefly wondered if Ghost would ever let you listen to it.

After some time, you decided to check the time on your wrist watch, just in time for the radio to crackle to life.

"Bird 1-0 to Bravo, how copy?"

A gloved hand beat yours to reaching for the radio, and you watched it move to Ghost's face.

"Here Bravo 1-0, solid. How long until exfil?"

"15 minutes, get ready to go home."

"Copy that."

You watched him speaking to the pilot, and you knew he knew you were watching him, but the moment he set his eyes on you, yours were trained back outside like the textbook image of an obedient, disciplined soldier.

The treeline had never seemed so appealing to look at than in that moment, yet you couldn't shake the weight of his stare off your back. You were determined to not crumble under his burning gaze, but you could barely suppress the shiver that ran down your spine when he grumbled from behind you.

"...if Sgt. Mactavish finds out that his stupid recording actually helps me sleep, I'll know it was you who chirped."

You had to force your diaphragm to suck in a deep breath before you turned to face his piercing stare and answered, hoping your voice didn't sound too shaky. "I'll take it to my grave, sir."

"Good, now get ready for exfil."

"Yes, sir."

.

.

.

.

.

"And no, I won't let you listen to it."

How the fuck did he know??

[acaaciia]

Site B

relationship: Gekko / Mateo x gn!reader

listed tags: slight angst, hurt/comfort, implied happy ending, semi established, confessions, one-shot

trigger warnings: wounds! blood! slight gore! gunshot wounds

synopsis: Gekko knew what he was signing up for when he first joined the Valorant Protocol, he knew there were risks to his job, but not like this, never like this, never you. 

“Stay together and stay alive. Remember, we’re just here to gain more intel” Harbor warned stepping off the helicopter and onto the drop site first, “I’m looking at you two." He directed his words toward you and Gekko. 

The rest of you followed Harbor off the aircraft, with your weapons in hand. Reyna was the first to lead the way as she scooped out the surrounding area. 

“Come on coach, you got the best crew in the house!” Gekko winked at you, nudging your shoulder with a giant grin.

You smiled in return, rolling your eyes at his antics, “He does have a point, somos los mejores.(1)” You agreed, shrugging your shoulders. 

“Orale!(2) That's what I’m talking about.” Gekko cheered, giving you a fist bump. 

Reyna rolled her eyes at the two of you, “We’ll round up again back here later, on my signal.” She declared, adjusting her gun with a stern look, “comprenden?(3)”

“Claro, Reyna.(4)” 

“You got it, Jefa.(5)” 

The four of you wished each other luck as you split into groups of two to cover more ground. You and Gekko were to explore ‘Site B’ while Reyna and Harbor would take care of ‘Site A’. The Valorant Protocol was investigating a number of locations today in an attempt to figure out where these mysterious shipments of Radianite were going to and from.  According to a mysterious tip, there were at least two locations that had active shipments moving in and out, but without a precise location, all active agents were split up to investigate the different suspected areas. It was a 50/50 shot that you would actually be the group to find the correct place. 

___

You and Gekko were perfectly synched up as you made your way towards Site B. You took the right end while he watched your left, the two of you were constantly focused on watching the other’s back. You both had grown to have an immense amount of trust in one another, having joined the Valorant Protocol at around the same time and being trained together frequently, it was inevitable that you would have formed a strong bond. 

When you weren’t training for the next mission, you two were constantly hanging out. If you wanted something to eat, suddenly it turned into a food run for two, or well six of you, if you counted his familiars. Whenever Gekko’s hair was in need of a touch up, you were the first one he called. And when either of you had nightmares due to your line of work, the two of you could always be found in either of your bedrooms, soothing the other till you fell asleep in each other's arms.

The two of you were practically conjoined at the hip and all of the other agents knew it too. Whenever they needed one of you, there was a guarantee that they would find the other as well, to them it was only a matter of time before you two would make it official. 

The two of you weren’t dumb either, you both had caught on to the longing looks you shared, early on. All the times you two had held hands under the table during team outings, rubbing each other's knuckles gently. All the subtle touches that sent shivers down your spine.

But nothing was ever made official. You never outright said that you had feelings for the Hispanic man, you never told him how the way he laughed would send your heart into failure. And neither did he. But maybe that was enough for you two, just knowing you could always count on the other to be there. 

The two of you made it to the surrounding area of Site B with no issues. You two had a perfect aerial view of the site and immediately spotted what you had been instructed to find. You both hid behind some crates while you made contact with the rest of your group. 

“We got eye’s on the target.” You stated over comms, while Gekko peeked around from where you two were hiding to get another look.

“Looks empty from up here,” Gekko imputed his own observations.  

“Great, Site A was a bust.” Harbor replied gruffly, “Proceed with caution until we can make our way there.” 

“You got it coach!” Gekko stood from where you two had been crouching, offering you a hand up which you gladly took, “You heard em’, vamanos.(6)” 

___

You both made it down to the entrance of Site B and the silence was killing you. It felt awfully too quiet for an area that was transporting something so important, it was too good to be true. 

“Dizzy’s up top.” Gekko called out, sending in the blue critter to confirm if it was safe for the two of you to enter. 

With no gun fire and no gurgles of danger from the creature, Gekko determined that it was clear, but your gut was screaming otherwise. Just as Gekko was about to take the lead in entering the area behind Dizzy but you pulled him back by the end of his sweater vest.

He paused in his steps, looking back at you, “Gekko…I don’t feel too good about this.” You expressed your concerns, “Maybe we should fall back for now and wait for the others.” 

He turned and took your hand from where it previously held onto his clothing, rubbing gentle circles on the back of your palm, “Estamos bien,(7) Dizzy confirmed it’s clear.” He reassured you. 

Although you were still unsure despite his reassurance, you decided to push your feelings behind you. Having faith in the confidence he held with his words, you hesitantly agreed, letting go of his hand as you ready your weapon. 

You entered B Site behind Gekko and kept guard as he retrieved Dizzy from where she spun out. Once she was settled, the two of you continued to ensure the area was clear. 

You made your way back to meet up with Gekko in the center of the shipment center once you had made sure your area was clear…or so you thought.

Your ears rang harshly making you disoriented, your body flung forward and roughly onto the ground without your approval. It all happened too fast and your mind was unable to focus on the area surrounding you and the warmth you felt flare up in your lower abdomen and in your calf. 

The noise felt deafened in your ears but you could still faintly hear your name being called out multiple times, followed by the sound of more gunshots firing above you. Finally, the noise ceased and you felt as though you could finally let your heavy eyelids rest for a bit.

One minute you were laying face-side down, the next, you were flipped onto your back carefully. Your eyes squinted in order to block out the harsh rays of the sun beating down on you until a buzzed, bright neon green head took its place. 

“Shit, shit!” Gekko exclaimed, looking down at your body that held multiple gun wounds. He quickly pulled his sweater over his head and turned it inside out. He cut off a piece and instructed Wingman to apply pressure on the wound on your calf, before applying pressure against your abdomen to keep the blood from gushing out from your wound. 

“Apuranse!(8) [Name]’s down.” Gekko called out with urgency, a series of curses flooding comms immediately. 

Gekko had always known what he was getting himself into when he first joined the Valorant Protocol; he knew the risks that came with his job. But not like this, never like this, never you. He never thought he’d grow to care for someone as much as he did you, but as he kneeled here, keeping his hands over your body with steady pressure. As the blood seeped through his sweater slowly, grazing the palms of his hands, dying them a deep crimson. 

He could only think of all the things he should’ve said earlier. All the times that he held you in his arms and didn’t come right out and shower you in the pet names he wished he had. All the moments you two had come inches away from sealing your first kiss that always managed to get interrupted. 

Maybe if he hadn’t insisted and listened to your gut feeling then maybe you two wouldn’t be in the position you were in. If he had just-

“Is it that bad?” You choked out, interrupting his thought process, swallowing the clot of blood that you could feel coming up from behind your throat. You already knew the answer to your question, but the silence between you two and the way his face was so stern and concerned, it was too much for you. It wasn’t a look that suited him. 

Gekko looked back at your face, trying to keep a smile, “Claro que no, carino(9) He reassured, the shakiness in his voice betraying him, “It’s nothing Sage can’t fix, but I need you to keep your eyes open for me, okay?” 

“Carino, huh? At least take me out to dinner first.” You joked, taking note of his slip up, trying to ease the tension before a small coughing fit ensued from you,”Mierda.”(10) 

“Tell you what, you stay alive, and the minute you’ve healed up I’ll take you out on a proper date. I’ll buy you the flowers you deserve and take you out to that sushi place you love.” He promised you, “No more sneaking around with this, yeah? I want everyone to know que eres mio.”(11) 

“I was thinking some Mierdonalds(12) and a movie, but I think I like your idea better.” You laughed, reaching up to cup his face and wipe the tears that had formed along the corners of his eyes.

Using what little strength you had, you pulled Gekko down for a chaste kiss. Pulling away, he kept his forehead against your own, while still maintaining a hand to your wound, “Te quiero muchisimo.”(13) He confessed. 

 Yo también te quiero.(14)

Here is the key for those who do not speak Spanish lol. It’s not proofread, so forgive my mistakes. 

1. Somos los mejores: We are the best.  2. Orale: Expression of approval/encouragement  3. Comprenden: Got it? 4. Claro: Of course 5. Jefa: Boss 6. Vamanos: Let’s go 7. Estamos bien: We’re okay 8. Apuranse: Hurry Up 9. Claro que no, Carino: Of coure not, dear/love 10. Mierda: Shit 11. Que eres mio: That you’re mine 12. Mierdonalds: Mierda + McDonalds, a play on words lol. (what my s/o calls it) ShitDonalds 13. Te quiero muchisimo: I love/care about you a lot.  14. Yo tambien te quiero: I love/care about you too. 

[helyiios]

Bedside lullaby

(Brandt/Hunley, 1.5k hurt/comfort drabble. Pre-relationship, but if you squint real hard it’s here)

One shot. One bullet, straight to the stomach. There had been blood, of course. A lot, he’d heard. They’d kept Luther close to him until backup had arrived, and by the time they were there, their Secretary was covered in gore.

Serves him right for trying to be a secret agent à la Ethan Hunt, he thinks, grumbling to himself as he throws his shitty coffee cup in one of the hospital’s bins, leaning back against the corridor’s wall. Some people are meant to give orders from the comfort of an office, there was no need of changing the order of things.

One of the doctors suddenly catches his attention, nodding to him as if to make him understand that he could finally come inside his superior’s room. He’d been waiting for around seven hours, had visited approximately all that a visitor could, had seen the different wings of the buildings at least twice, and had had the time to count the amount of ceiling lights in wing W, which were at a total of 247. How fucking peachy.

“He’s awake,” the man in the white coat tells him, but truth be told, he’s barely listening to him, “he’s extremely numb and vulnerable, so try not to push him too much. The bullet barely grazed his stomach, a few millimetres more and he was a gone man.”

That’s great, thanks a lot.

“Alright,” William Brandt says instead, offering him a tight lipped smile. “Thank you.”

“Of course. We usually only allow family, but the man who was with us in the ambulance gave us your contact info. We assumed he had no other next of kin.”

“Yeah I’m…we’re coworkers,” he defers, technically not lying. “Sorry, I’ll leave you to it. Thanks again.”

The doctor nods curtly, exiting the room quietly. Brandt watches him disappear around the corner of the corridor before inhaling deeply, smoothing the lapels of his jacket, trying to pretend like he hadn’t just spent the most boring and stressful day of his life. And anyway, his face and the dark bags that adorned it would probably tell the story for him. No need to play pretend.

He makes his way inside the hospital bedroom, taking in how spacious it was. The bathroom was wide, and there was a small couch near some sort of diner table. He almost wants to roll his eyes at this—how many missions had he gone through, waking up in the world’s shittiest and least clean hospitals he’d seen ? Talk about special treatment.

His superior is in the bed, one arm hooked to a catheter, his chest rising and falling to the rhythm of the bipping of the machines, eyes closed. He looked almost peaceful.

“I know you aren’t sleeping,” Brandt groans, grabbing a chair and letting it drag on the floor with an uncomfortable screech, “asshole.”

“Ow,” comes the immediate reply, “you could afford to give a little more sympathy to a wounded man.”

“If you had stayed in D.C, you wouldn’t be here.”

“One has to make sacrifices, in this line of work,” Alan Hunley retorts, but his voice isn’t either playful nor amused. He sounds extremely tired, and he has difficulties speaking. “It’s fine. I made it out, in the end.”

“Barely, yes.”

“Yes, sorry about that, I’m sure you learning of my demise would’ve brightened your day considerably,” Hunley offers, finally daring to let humour slip through his words, “I’ll do better next time, I promise.”

“I don’t fucking feel like joking, Alan,” Brandt almost spits, fists closed in anger, “this isn’t funny !”

“No, it’s not.”

The Secretary closes his eyes again, sighing deeply as he let his head sink deeper into the hard pillow. The drops in his IV were falling almost in synch with the beating of his heart.

“Why are you here ?” he asks then, turning his face a little so they were looking at each other, “don’t you have mission files and reports to fill ?”

“I’m here because you’re a lonely guy whose closest next of kin is his subordinate,” Brandt icily replies, locking their gazes forcefully. “That’s a little sad, isn’t it ?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m sure your mother is fond of coming to your bedside everytime you hurt yourself on missions.”

“Okay, funny guy. Hilarious. Just—that was a really close call. And I don’t feel like joking about it, is all.”

“I’m not making jokes,” Hunley notes, “I’m deflecting. The mood of this place is daunting enough as it is, no need to add your forever gloomy face to the mix.”

“My face isn’t gloomy. I’m—concerned.”

“Well, you shouldn’t be. I’m alright, I’ll be good as new in a few months, ready to overwork you and your team of self sacrificing idiots.”

“Unless you’ve forgotten, you are part of this team too,” Brandt says, “and anyway, talk about self sacrifice when you’re the one who jumped in front of a bullet.”

“How sweet. Just what I needed,” the other mocks, the shadow of a smile still appearing on his bow shaped lips. “I may be the one who has gotten shot, you don’t look too well either. Did you run into a wall, perhaps ?”

A scoff, and Brandt’s crossing his legs self consciously, tugging at his loosened tie.

“I’ve been here since 1AM yesterday,” he mumbles, running a hand through his short hair, “there isn’t much to do, in a hospital.”

That seems to take Hunley by surprise.

“1AM ? But it’s early morning.”

“Yeah, Sherlock. It’s almost 9AM.”

A frown.

“Why on Earth would you stay the night ?” the older man asks, clearly confused, “that seems counter productive.”

“Oh, are you fucking kidding me ?” Brandt frustratedly exclaims, throwing his hands in the air, “because someone needed to check on you, is why ! Because there needs to be someone to tell the IMF if their Secretary General fucking died in surgery !”

“While I appreciate the sentiment, I’m sure doctors would’ve notified you all the same without you having to stay here,” Hunley remarks, raising his index at him. “All I am saying is, you could use some sleep. That look on you is…ghastly.”

“Honestly, go fuck yourself,” the other annoyedly replies. “I stayed because I wanted to. And yes, I look like shit, but at least you’ve got someone to talk to while you’re waking up from your surgery, and you’re not staring at the ceiling waiting for God knows who until God knows when.”

“Mm. That would imply that I want to talk to you.”

“Well, you are. Aren’t you ?”

A huff.

“Alright, sure. You look jumpy, though. Are you sure you’re alright ?”

“Am I sure I’m a—fuck, Alan !” Brandt can’t help but yell, face in his hands, “you almost died ! What is it about that that you don’t understand ?!”

“No, William, I understand the gravity of my situation quite well, thank you very much. What I do not understand, is why you seem so worked up about it.”

The younger man lets out a high pitched scream inside his palms, shaking his head dejectedly. His shoulders are shaking.

“Brandt ?”

“I guess I got scared, alright ? I got—I got scared you really were dead,” he finally says, defeated. When he raises his head again, his eyes are wide. “I panicked, and I felt helpless. I knew I should’ve taken the job with the rest of them. Fuck.”

“Well, I’ve made it out, haven’t I ?”

“A few millimetres to the left and you wouldn’t have,” he continues, parroting the doctor’s words. “I don’t know, okay ? I was scared. Fuck. I don’t even know why I’m admitting this to you, it’s going to inflate to huge ego of yours.”

Hunley lets out a soft laugh at this, clenching his fingers as his catheter slightly shifted on the sheets.

“I’m touched you seem to…care so highly of my person to worry that much. But I promise to you, William, that I am quite alright. Nothing I can’t recover from, at least.”

“I know that,” Brandt mumbles, averting his eyes. “It’s whatever. Forget it. Forget I said anything.”

“No, I think it’s sweet,” the other jokingly remarks, “but really, you should go home and rest, now that you know that I’m okay. You really don’t look good.”

“‘s fine. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“My, are you playing bodyguard ?”

“If that’s what it takes for you to stop putting yourself in stupid situations you aren’t used to tackle, sure,” Brandt says, shrugging stiffly as he took his suit jacket and tie off. He folds them on the back of the chair neatly, patting them for good measure.

There’s a slight pause, and the muscle in his jaw visibly tenses. Like he’s thinking about something.

Finally his hands rises, barely, landing on the other man’s, palm warm.

He gives a soft squeeze, something that’s barely there.

“It’s good to have you back, mister Secretary,” he settles on saying, the corner of his mouth curling until what could be considered a smile. “Don’t go dying on me while I sleep.”

He takes his hand off, and Hunley finds that he misses its warmth.

The other’s snores keep him awake.

[itsdappleagain]

it is time for the crackle goes kiwi caper!

oh man. im so close to being caught up. hold on, stockholm, I'm coming and i WILL be on time (i hope)

thats auckland btw

notes under the cut as always

OH okay ive been saving a really old edit for this episode

you're welcome

oh opening thoughts on the episode. ummmmmm its good. i like it. only reason i would have to dislike it is i guess the sort of red crackle stuff from it but i dont hate red crackle on default so it stands as a good episode. i like the dancing and the stakes actually feel pretty high a lot of the time!

not player hacking into the russian government

ah, neal. neal the eel. he is indeed. an eel

also rhys darby is my favorite voice actor on the planet

also also autistic dr bellum real and true

YOU WILL TRY

YUHHH GET IT

neal loving puns 👍

the "coo" neal does after he escapes into the vent is the bane of my existence i hate it with a burning passion

i wonder if "project tripwire" is supposed to be an experiment left over from the cold war or something?

zack is enjoying his sandwich!

that lean over carmen's shoulder one hand on the desk one hand on his hip move shadowsan is doing is the most dad thing

top ten moments before disaster

GIRL THE 3/4 PROFILE IN CS STYLE DOESNT WORK STOP USING IT

i love that the vile harddrive is like. VILE google

CRISPY FRIED CARMEN

player: we need an electrician who knows their stuff so carmen doesnt get electrocuted to death!! the job they need done: wooo slidey thingies....ooooooo dont let it touch the line!! woooo!!

player in s1: we CANT let crackle get ANYWHERE near you he may be a SLEEPER AGENT or put you in DANGER player in s2: we cant 🥺 even bring him back to play for the good guys? 🥺🥺🥺

i guess thats probably because shadowsan confirmed that he doesnt have any memories or sleeper agent tendencies lmaoo

fun fact! graham's cafe does not in fact exist. it is a housing complex/ lookout

carmen could not have picked a more. i mean just what a cover story. obviously i get that its personal to her but imagine being an electrican and this lady who is even younger than you comes up to you and is like oh...yeah i run an international charity. for abandoned children how unaccomplished would you feel wheeze

i will never stop saying this but SAY GOODBYE OR SOMETHING PLEASE CARMEN

interesting that the "cuppa" he insists she has with him kind of sets off a shit ton of stuff for s4. if acme hadn't taken gray in they wouldnt have probably ever been able to help carmen get out of mind control, or it would have taken much longer. she wouldnt have been able to discover and destroy the robots. weird stuff

insert meme about people calling paper star tammy because of that one time she used that as a codename here. except its with player and peter

ALSO HEEY PLAYERS ACCENT FROM S1 PAID OFF...he was practicing...

where did they get that ballet which is perfectly synched up to the lights he needs to turn off

not bellum's ominous green lighting black shiny lab. so subtle

also you would think that the power station bellum draws ALL her power from would be better protected wouldnt you?

did they let crackle practice the "lights" because if they didnt- yikes that sucks and if they did- bellum's security mechanism just going haywire as he practices pjgkkjsghd

mm this scene is good

OH also. eternal bounce looping gif because mmgh that animation is good

that animation of gray adjusting the slides where he goes in like. an arc in reverse. good shit

carmen is so not normal about the electric fields i love her. i get you're supposed to be dancing but girlie just run and jump its ok

even more bouncy because i cant be stopped

I LOVE HOW BOUNCY SHE IS. LOST IN THE SAUCE (the sauce is tchaikovsky)

a nearly electrifying performance is the best way to tell your best friend you didnt just die in a really horrible way

honestly the quip about sheep is a pretty good one. neal is SO COOL his fight scenes are really fun. takes a lot of ingenuity for our mains to outdo him

also his score is SOOO COOL its like. its slithery idk how to explain it

HAHAHA SHE PROTECTED THE FACE AND HE WENT FOR HER LEGS

i love how she was just like "nah fuck this" and ran the other way

HIS "OUGH" WHEN SHE TRIES TO KICK HIM IN THE FACE DHGDJHGKD. WASNT EXPECTING THAT ONE I GUESS

she goes down really hard a couple times fighting him. you can hear after he mule kicks her against the wall that it hurt

carmen's signature move, the titty twister

that "slick" line has become a line i just repeat with the same inflection like five times a day wugewghdh

player's kiwi went a little irish there

why did he go out the back door looking for carmen if the rest of the "theater" was supposed to be the other way 😭

oh okay nevermind he's just. he just doesn't listen

gremlin bellum appreciation

gray is literally the luckiest motherfucker alive please

didnt carmen lock the door behind her also??? im so confused how did he get in

"carmen?" "sandiego" (clapping noise from the intro)

the little confused noise gray makes pls its so funny

also love how his first question is "what kind of concert hall is this" and not "why are we sprinting down a hallway"

THATS THE NIGHT THAT THE LIGHTS WENT OUT IN AUCKLAND (sick guitar) THATS THE NIGHT THAT THEY H wait a minute

so hot i love her

kill, my queen

WILHELM SCREAM!

i love the disgust and annoyance that immediately overtakes her face when neal shows up again

are we ever going to talk about how neal was trying to snap her neck or no

no? okay

it would have been really funny if that crackle rod was set to lethal

i love how she says "zackivy" as one cohesive unit

pls carmen looks so short next to cracker

sharon muthu is such a queen

love also how carmen is more concerned about gray recognizing the voice than bellum threatening to take out auckland. yes girl priorities

fantastic shot of her grinning and then getting all smirky about it. she's so hot. again

michael put his whole pussy into that scream/crikey

"it won't blow up in our faces will it?" "um just. stick your hands in there okay"

i love when cs uses "bad" colors like the red flashing warning light to indicate goodness like carmen winning

the crikeys are killing me

THE TRIPLE SHOT OF THE TRIPWIRE PROJECT BLOWING UP IS SO ICONIC

i love neal going from horrified at the explosion to looking at bellum like. what did you just say

crying over how carmen just looks at him with no expression on her face after he makes a kiwi joke

and now a series titled "OW!"

thank you

also carmen does a WHOLE FLIP when she crashes (not doing photos because its hard to see) but she goes down on her neck, does a flip, and then slides in on her stomach

wow! good thing carmen is okay after crash landing in the woods due to something going wrong with a glider flight. im sure that won't happen again, and even if it did I'm sure the consequences couldn't be that terrible!

it would have been funny if he had died on impact im just saying

maybe he did and the power of carmen saying the wrong name brought him back

if the copyright wouldnt blow them to hell and back im a thousand percent certain they would have had crackle ask if carmen was like james bond

carmen: ill explain over that coffee also carmen: explains nothing

wow look the line that jumpstarted me writing fanfiction. my first fic was a red crackle fic based off of this scene/the afterscene of acme looking at the cameras and speculations of gray joining acme. guilty ✋

carmen vaporizing on the spot and leaving graham with thousands of dollars is a vibe

yeah vile didnt lay eyes him. yep

ALRIGHT FUCK YES IM CAUGHT UP WITH CS WEEKLY!! STOCKHOLM HERE I FUCKING COME ON TIME YES BITCH MY FAVORITE EPISODE

[tbonechessor]

Fucked up sci fi transportation idea.

Instead of crossing entire star systems to get to locations, agents upload their brains to a quantum communication array and have a copy of their minds uploaded to clones who are rapidly produced on-site.

Maybe their OG bodies are stored somewhere safe with the orig memories intact incase anything goes wrong with transfers.

If cloning technology isn't that good then maybe sleeves are produced with natural decay in mind so any one person would be on-planet for a set amount of time depending on their tour there and their occupation.

Like a migration liscence or green card that includes how long your clone is expected to "last". Ideally some process is included that ends the clone and re-synchs consciousness with the OG so the subject doesn't suffer the slow death of the clone body too much.

Options to purchase pre-installed cybernetics and implants for the clone are available pre-tour so that particular instance can be tailor made for the purposes of that visit.

[silyabeeodess]

FusionFall Headcanons: Nano Training (Expanded)

Overall, much of the training a nano receives isn't too different from their IE Donor's simply because, once you have a nano, the bulk of time training and fighting is spent with them at your side. Nevertheless, it's still important to closely monitor your nano's independent growth.

While it is possible for nanos to adopt a wide array of their original model's abilities, full mastery of them is another matter. There's not much of a rhyme or reason to their innate talent since--like so many other aspects--it depends on the influence of their IE Donor as much as their original model. Therefore, it is up to the IE Donor to carefully observe their nanos and see where their strengths lie. Many of their abilities can even be dangerous to you and other allies, so figuring all of this out early on acts as a precautionary measure as well. All original models have a set of data collected on them courtesy of the Nano Project, so don't be afraid to gather what information you can to get a better understanding of the little doubles.

As mentioned in other posts, another option is to have your nano train under their original model directly. Some original models will give opportunities for nanos to learn how to master their abilities, typically as a large group. Examples of models more inclined to teach their nano copies include Blossom, Wilt, Numbuh One, and Dee Dee. In contrast, those who rarely get involved with nanos include Eddy, Bloo, and Hex. Depending on the personality of the model in question, an IE Donor might feel more or less inclined to allow their nano to attend these lessons though if there's a concern that they may adopt the model's negative traits.

It's important for an IE Donor to remember that nanos aren't tools, they're teammates. They may have been made for war, but they still feel and act as independent creatures. As such, in downtime, you should find opportunities to connect with your nanos. Building a sense of trust will naturally increase your ability to lead them in-turn.

While it may seem unnecessary for a nano to go through the same physical training as their IE Donor, participation in some physical training will give them a better sense of how you move on the battlefield and how they can move in-synch. This will help them cover your blind spots as well as get you both acquainted with how to maneuver around each other.

Matchups are extremely important to getting one's team running like a well-oiled machine. A successful fusion fighter should be able to fire out commands in an instant in a battle, their nanos responding in quick succession as though they were one body. Strategizing your matchups (both by nano type and nano ability) will allow you to take on fusion monsters much easier. For example, having one nano as a standby healer in the event of an emergency is common among less adept fighters. Barring specific circumstances, it is often recommended that you organize your team so that you're set with one nano of each type-limiting the possibility of facing a natural weakness in combat. Avoid favoritism.

Just as IE Donors are expected to learn some degree of medical knowledge to tend to their nanos in the field, nanos should also be prepared for a worst-case scenario. Especially for independent agents within Earth's forces, there's a danger of a fusion fighter falling in battle without another soldier around to help them. With the exception of Resurrect 'Ems, this leaves their fates entirely onto their nanos. With their much smaller size as a massive disadvantage, the nanos will have to get their IE Donor to a safe location and administer aid as needed. Obviously, healers and nanos with the recall ability will have the easiest time of this, but it's still important to come up with a plan in case of an emergency. Other knowledge your nanos likely should have for such an event include army signals/channels in order to call for help and an overview of the human body's needs, such as maintaining a healthy temperature.

Similarly, your nanos will also need to know how to survive without you in the event of separation. There is no advantage to having them completely dependent on you. Most of the time, if they are in serious danger, they can simply return to their nano chips--locking themselves inside. However, moving too far out of range of the chip/damage to the chip is still very much possible. When divided from their teams, nanos are encouraged to prioritize their own safety. If they can't regroup with their own team, they are to bunker down until the danger has passed and then return to a base/find another fusion fighter to help them as soon as possible. Fighting fusion monsters alone should be a last resort.

[sugarlipsmcgee]

He wore an all black suit, one leg propped up on his knee and a faint knowing smile dancing in his eyes. Exceptionally groomed down to the last detail. He sipped easily on a glass of blood orange wine and looked around him at the gathering of strangers sitting at the outdoor café.

"He's one confidant S.O.B., that's for sure," Rossi said with a smirk.

"He thinks we can't touch him," said Hotch.

"Wanna prove him wrong?"

Hotch nodded curtly, then walked alongside Rossi, up to the table where the assassin sat.

Murdoc's ears picked up the sound of two synched footsteps traveling his direction from behind; he looked up from his glass before setting it aside. "David Rossi, Aaron Hotchner" he said. "Please," he gestured for the two empty seats opposite the table from him with an empty hand. "Take a seat gentlemen."

Hotch and Rossi glanced at each other, gauging how safe they would feel accepting the offer, but following the assassin's instructions all the same. They came around the table on either sides before taking their seats. Murdoc sat, amused while writing in a small notebook balanced on his knee.

"You seem calm, Murdoc, meeting us out in the open and all."

A smile slowly grew across Murdoc's handsome face, his pen swirling over the blank white paper. "You've done your research, Agent Rossi. It takes quite a bit of digging to produce as little as my name. Impressive." Finally looking up, he met eyes with Rossi and shrugged. "Of course it's not my real name. Though I'm not sure if something that old can be dug up. But if I have my details right… Penelope hasn't quite figured out how to find that yet."

Back in Quantico, Garcia's eyes widened as she watched on from her computer. "H-he knows my name," she stuttered. "H-how does he…"

Gently, Spencer hushed her, staring intently at the screen. Murdoc had chosen a table where only the faces of their coworkers were illuminated by the lights. Garcia had pulled up the real-time footage from a camera outside the café where the three men sat.

[briar-rolfes-research-oubliette]

A mate lent me The Wind’s Twelve Quarters by Le Guin ages ago (I’m not good at reading books people lend me. I have books I was lent on my shelf from when I still lived in Geelong! It is a character flaw I am working on) and I’m finally giving it a crack.

The first story, Semley’s Necklace (originally published under Dowry of the Angyar) first surprised me with an animal I thought was definitely a horse (it was definitely not a horse) and then made me feel very sad in a complicated science fiction way.

The second story’s introduction was really delightful to me, though, because she talks about being paid for her writing for the first time and what it meant to her as an artist:

I never feel patronised reading Le Guin, which just makes me more fond of her. I really like her framing here; getting paid simply means you’re getting read, and doesn’t give you a position of authority (pun accidental but I’m pleased by it). And, considering that when my American book contract is signed my teeny tiny 1/3 advance on signing (minus double agent fees) will tip me over the HECS threshold and cost me as much if not more money than it earns me… I’m really glad she doesn’t associate being paid with making a living.

Also, oh my god. It’s such a green flag that she never synched with John Campbell.

[99point9percentwhump]

WHUMPTOBER 2022, DAY 2,Cornered

Bodie devilishly went to say something when Doyle interrupted two arms of bitter.”

She eyed with a with a knowing look as Bodie who still smiled at her eagerly “Two bitters it is” and went off to fill the beer glasses and thumped them down on the wooden bar the pair grabbed their drinks and went and sat at a table each enjoying their cold drinks “can't believe we have a night off finally.”

Doyle sighed his comment caused Bodie to nearly choke on his ale then sigh heavily “ah Sunshine what’d I tell you about saying that kind of thing.”

Doyle shrugged “I was only stating it's been a while since we had one.”

“No, you're jinxing us is what you're doing now you watch before we finish the Cow will be calling us in.” Bodie paused for a minute “Did you bring your radio in?”

Mid sip Doyle shrugged and shook his head

“Yeah me neither.” and went on drinking the glass of bitter as the evening crawled on.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

It wasn't long before the two CI5 men had just about finished their first round.

“Another?” Doyle asked Bodie threw back and gulped the last of his “Why not.” he quickly glanced back his eyes, finding the barmaid still working “Shall I?”

“You haven't a chance in the world.” Doyle scoffed and Bodie shot him a challenging look “oh and you do?”

Ray rose gathering the glasses “Nope cuz Im not gonna try for that one.” he put simply and went off for another round.

Bodie shifted back in his seat when he heard the door to the pub open, habit caused him to check on anyone that entered the pub, he was not disappointed by what he saw.

A brunette with her high heels clicking with each step flowing skirt sweeping back and forth across her legs as she walked in slowly a sleeveless pleated front blouse tucked in giving her hourglass figure and a small handbag perched on her shoulder Bodie liked the look very much.

As she got close he quickly stood “You looking for someone?” a wiley smile perking on his lips she shyly tucked her hair behind her ear and glanced nervously around Bodie’s instincts were picking up something was wrong.

“I don't want any trouble I'm just trying to avoid my former boyfriend at that moment the pub door opened Bodie looked up in synch with the girl a man was staring dangerously at her he was average height but his dark eyes burned Bodie tensed ready but the man looked towards the agent obviously standing between him and his prize he slowly backed up and let the pub down shut leaving the pub in peace the blonde let out a sigh of relief Doyle came stepping up a pint in each hand having watched the interaction while collecting the drinks “What's going on?”

Bodie gently wrapped an arm around the girl's shoulder “Why don't you stay with us for a while.”

Bodie noticed as he put an arm around her she felt his pistol snug in its shoulder holster under his jacket she pulled away “it's alright sweetheart.”

Bodie smoothly pulled out his CI5 ID card “We're the good guys”

Her eyes read the badge “I think I should just go.” she wasn't out fast that was obvious Doyle piped in “Want us to take you home?”

She pulled free of Bodies protective arm “I really should go thank you” she stated quickly she took no more than two steps when the heel of her shoe sheared off nearly sending her tripping to the floor if it wasn't for Bodies quick reflexes catching her by the arms “Why don't I call you a cab then.

Look there's one outside Bodie pointed through the glass windows showing a taxi sitting waiting for pub crawlers looking for a lift home

The girl went to counter the agent but Bodie was having none of it he scooped her up in his arms she gasped in surprise finding herself suddenly in the man's arms.

“Can't have you limping through the pub on a broken heel can we.” he smiled warmly at her she looped her arms around his neck “ok but just to the cab.”

Doyle was still standing there, still holding the bitters “You'll be back in a minute?”

“In a minute old son don't spill my beers eh I'll be right back.” he smiled a glint in his eye Doyle rolled his eyes and sat at the table two pints of bitter in front of him as his partner swept the girl out the pub into the night.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

The night air had a chill as Bodie carried the girl smoothly out to the cab but they hadn't even gotten through the door when another patron closed the taxi door and it took off “Ahhh.”

Carefully putting the girl down she kept an arm on him for support and she slipped off her heels going barefoot “What's more silly barefoot or trying to walk on one leg?” she giggled

“You wanna go back in?

“No can you walk me to the phone booth?” she pointed to a booth on the corner

“Course.” Bodie offered his arm as the two went

“Won’t your friend be worried? She asked as she slipped her hand bag off her shoulder to her hand as they walked “he's a grown lad he’ll be alright for a few minutes.” the agent reassured with a wink a they crossed the road towards the booth

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Doyle was getting restless; his second glass of bitter was empty and his partner was now playing the hero. He looked at the still full glass he'd gotten for Bodie “Sod it.” he said to himself as he took the glass and took a sip while he waited.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

The girl had relaxed so much more Bodie was enjoying her light laugh as they came up to the booth he heard something approaching but the girl distracted him enough to miss how fast the sound of steps were coming up on them.

A man came running and grabbed her handbag and took off around the corner, instantly Bodie took off after the man rounding the corner he slowed the man was nowhere in sight.

Suddenly a clanging of a glass bottle skidding across the pavement grabbed his attention in an alleyway that looked to wind back to the pub, he started down in getting about 10 yards in when he saw the end of the alley it was a dead end various discarded items and smashed bottles lined it.

Bodie kicked a long abandoned whiskey bottle in irritation, he turned to head back out of the alley when he turned he found not one but two men standing menacingly watching him.

where the hell did they come from

“Now gents I don't want any trouble.” he held his arms by his side weighing what to do next he's taken two before it's doable he plotted out his actions as the two took a threatening step towards him.

Bodie went for his pistol but it barely cleared the leather of the holster when something heavy smashed into the back of his head sending the agent sprawling to the ground and his gun skittering across the tarmac.

Not missing a beat, Bodie twisted around and kicked his assailant sending him reeling back then jumping to his feet he turned to find the first two men charging, Bodie ducked the first swing and threw a right hook at the second sending him back when arms wrapped around him from behind.

The agent drove an elbow back hearing a satisfying 'ooph' and then he was free as two decided to try again as they got close on ducked lower grabbing Bodie around the torso the second catching his swinging arm and threw a punch into the CI5 man's jaw.

With a forceful twist Bodie freed himself of the man holding him and kicked the downed man in the ribs the man howled in pain.

But recovered quickly grabbed the agent's assaulting leg causing him to misstep giving the others a chance to hit the agent sending him falling heavily to the ground.

Bodie couldn't see who lashed out at him but he felt every blow landing one especially solid kick to his gut knocked all the wind out of him leaving him gasping he saw a motorcycle boot swinging up towards his face and then he didn't see or feel anything else.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Doyle was getting impatient or more accurately worried Bodie took his time when dealing with girls but this was a bloody long time and he'd finished the glass that was meant for Bodie deciding this wasn't going anywhere fast.

Doyle rose and made his way out of the pub and stood on the kerb the cab and Bodie nowhere to be found, he shook his head this was low even for Bodie leaving him in the pub and taking off with a bird he looked towards the Capri parked and started for it when he saw across the street the girl Bodie had been with at the mouth of the alley.

That didn't make any sense.

His copper nerves were going off and he walked across and up to her “ ‘scuse me?”

The girl jumped a mile, recognizing him she started crying and pointed in the alley “Help please!” she shrieked

Doyle's eyes peered in the alley seeing a lump in the middle unmoving Doyle felt his stomach drop “Bodie!”

He drew his sidearm and rushed in scoping the alley as he went, finding it vacant except for Bodie he slid the revolver back into his resting place and carefully rolled bodie onto his side.

Doyle placed his fingers on his partner's neck, happy to find a steady beat. The girl's voice spoke from behind him “What shall I do?” She sounded partly hysterical.

Doyle remembered both their R/Ts were in the car.

Without glancing back “Call an ambulance!

Bodie's eyes flickered open and connected with Doyle's. Doyle smiled in relief, Bodie was a bloody mess,literally.

His expression was dazed and smiled back at his partner ever so slightly then his eyes went wide Doyle was just about to ask what was wrong when pain exploded at the side of his skull.

He'd lost all sense of what happened next till he started to come to, he was on face down on the tarmac forcing his eyes open Doyle managed to get a look at his partner who still lay where he'd seen him last the thought of trying to rise made the CI5 man stomach turn but the alarm bells were going off in his mind there was something bad happening but he couldn't bring his mind to catch up.

The pub something about a pub his hearing picked up in a sharp clicking that seemed to walk up on his other side he didn't want to turn his head with the pain he was in but his nerves were telling him he really needed to look, he swallowed back the nausea.

Doyle turned his face from the view or his downed partner to find on the opposite side a pair of bright red high heels he cast his eyes up accidentally finding their way up a skirt he forced them passed to see a familiar face of the girl

Bodie helped from the pub then…

He recalled he saw her in the street then the scene in his mind began to piece back together her once pretty face was now scowling down at him movement behind her caught his attention.

Two men sauntered to her he went to tell her to look out but was cut off when the girl swooped her leg back and drove the rounded toe of her heel into Ray’s forehead sending nearly all sense out of him

Thought she broke her shoe

That was the last fleeting thought playing through his dazed mind: the roar of engines and the screech of tires skidding up and people shouting were the last thing Ray Doyle's conscious mind registered.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

When Doyle started to wake he knew he was somewhere else the smell was clean, overly clean, which even in his foggy mind told him hospital part of him wanted to drift back to the comforting nothingness when his mind sounded an alarm Bodie!

He sat bolt upright his head pulsed a terrible pain and he groaned clutching the side of his head finding a bandage wrapped around it then another memory the girl then pain he wince but more at the thought of what he walked into he wasn't sure where it hurt more the front or back of his skull but his thoughts were interrupted by a gentle hand on his shoulder.

He looked slowly to his side and found his partner Bodie looking like he'd been to the wars and back bruises on his face and a split lip, his eyes full of worry but seeing Doyle look at him turned his worry into a small smirked

“Thought you we're gonna sleep through the dawn.” He said a grin forming Doyle couldn't help but grin back

“You get beaten by a girl too?” Ray grimaced as he ran his hand over his forehead Bodie didn't try and his amusement at the statement as he retrieved a glass of water and offered it to his partner “No, not me old son took three blokes to take me.”

Doyle groaned again he knew this was gonna be brought up a lot the next few weeks Bodie wasn't going to let him live this down.

Ao3 link

[cathygeha]

REVIEW

The Broken Truth by Reavis Z. Wortham

A Tucker Snow Thriller #2

My ~ Oh My ~ What a great addition to a thrilling series!

What I liked: * Tucker: widow, single parent, needs time to grieve but always there for his teenage daughter, strong, lethal, has his own moral code, has been uncover with his brother, thought his job with the TSCRA would be easier, seems to be “snakebit” more often than desired ~ Love him and want to see more of him

* Harley: Tucker’s younger brother, partner when under cover in the past, family man, married to Tammy with two young sons, adopting Jimma, a bit hyper, in synch with Tucker on the job, civilian with a business of his own

* The relationship between Tucker and Harley and they way they work fluidly as a team

* Chloe: strong, resilient, survivor, good friend to Jimma, has been through a lot, missing her mother and younger sibling, would like to just be a teenager at some point in time – as would Jimma

* Tammy: Harley’s wife, strong, lethal, protective, good mother, loving wife, can identify with her

* Russel & Jenny: good friends, strong, capable, there for those they care about

* The plot, pacing, setting, and writing

* That I felt part of the story and cared about the outcome

* That some of the criminals wore gray rather than black hats and perhaps some can change their ways

* Being made aware of the part the oil industry and its product has on the world

* That it made me think

* Knowing there is another book to look forward to

What I didn’t like: * Who and what I was meant not to like

* Wendell Cross, who he works for, the methods and means he used to implement his plans, and his disregard for just about everything – except himself

Did I like this book? Yes

Would I read more in this series? Definitely

Thank you to NetGalley and Sourcebooks-Poisoned Pen Press for the ARC – this is my honest review.

5 Stars

BLURB

The endless Texas landscape hides all manner of sins… Special Agent Tucker Snow knows there's big money roaming the fields under the wide Texas sky—and the cattle rustlers committing large-scale thefts on remote ranches know it, too. But when a prominent local rancher dies unexpectedly and his property is quietly sold to an unknown buyer, Tucker suspects there's something more sinister going on in his jurisdiction than the usual steal-and-resell racket. Still raw after the tragic death of his wife and young daughter, the lawman can't bear the thought of more innocent lives destroyed by people whose greed poisons everything around them.  Working alongside his brother, Harley, Tucker uncovers a dark ring of organized crime that goes well beyond cattle rustling—a breed of deception and greed that has turned into a silent killer and will take down anyone who crosses its path. The question is whether Tuck and Harley will be able to shut it down before it finds the people they love the most…

[astrxlfinale]

The Swarm Descends. Arbiters of decimation and ravager of all resource, life and hope. How will the Trailblazer act seeing a once bright sky find itself wholly eclipsed with writhing hell?

Never has the skies fell to darkness with an age old song amidst their winds upon this world. Wingbeats, an uncomfortable heat, pillars of sunlight found themselves being wolfishly eclipsed by any remnants that squeezed through the growing millions above. It's a view that holds a macabre, stunning branch of horror as all activity upon land found itself naturally drawn to peer at the anomaly above. This song in itself was a war chant that found itself visited amidst Simulation and through hollowed, clinical halls within reality.

Well outside the realm of calculations and thought drawn to life, no, it was harrowing power that led panicked screams, sounding alarms and just about any measure to move that could be commanded. Civilians fled, this world's defenses quickly bolstered their defenses, yet even throughout the morsels that he and countless other beings represented, it'd be the fiery nature of his cursed light that serves as a beacon.

There was no ignorance to their instincts. The Swarm recognized a foe who's done battle with them countless times before.

Caelus's eyes ignited with fiery light as a lance of jewel-like Amber forged itself into his grip through a pillar of flame. "Bastards--" The word is heatedly clipped from his lips, only to be thrown into disarray from the chorus of wings and the yells of the inexperienced. Seconds, sweet and precious seconds were upon the table to usher some kind of warning. Thankfully, he's known well enough for his word to hold respectable weight amidst the fighters and public.

"FIND COVER FOR YOUR FACES. Their wing beats spreads a hallucination agent!"

Beyond that? No time, lesser stings, their explosive kamikaze types, variants never before seen found themselves flooding the streets within an instant. Life found itself at an easy forfeit before this boundless hunger. Normally that would've been the immediate case.

Except the flames of a Trailblazer intends to carve an immolated of shattered carapaces and viscera. An unseen barrier formulating his armor and protective scale from their biological offensives.

Hell would no longer be drawn solely by the Propagation's design.

Multiple bodies would be relinquished of their colorful blood, immediately being melted down to a hazy mist that's rendered to oblivion. Wrathful strikes of the Guardian Lance would either pierce through it's prey, only for a twist of that hilt allowing for Path power to be drunk from his body akin to a chalice. The intensity of his emotion, the sharpened state of thought and bodily ability, a warrior against Emanators would tear through this starting flank with brutal efficiency.

Gunfire, alchemical tinctures turned into boon and weaponry alike, another song of life would bloom amidst this cataclysm in light of the Trailblazer's stride. Enough room to brief, for thoughts to be grasped and not find themselves arrested by terror, this would be the start to Caelus's answer against this voracious maw of gluttony. Tayzzyronth's progeny would find no fields to easily, mindlessly consume and breed upon.

For that brave star would shoot towards the skies, similar to a comet ascending to the abyss above, a spiraling twirl of his body assisted by the jet propulsion of his lance creating a sickening rift through another bundle of insectoid bodies. Teeth bared, even as their blood atomizes before falling onto him, the stirs of Destruction and Preservation alike found themselves synched by the Harmony.

More of that potential was being rapidly conjured by the second, serving as the bastion to ensure that as many lives could pull through this in a singular piece.

Caelus will fight. A clear, crisp goal of etching fear into the very Path of Propagation itself alongside protecting this world.

[jack-yutani]

Monarch Godzilla Variant Profile "Hera"

Overview: The Godzilla variant Hera, is agreed to be the weakest of the Godzilla variants. Though her biggest strength is her strange, motherily bond between Variants Leviathan( See Profile "Leviathan/Bloop" for Context) and Sekhmet( See Profile "Sekhmet" for Context). Hera has a Perseus( See Profile "Persues"for context) as her biological child, but Persues is more attached to Niko Tatopoulous the leader of Humanitarian, Enviromental, Analysis, Team(H.E.A.T.). But there are cases of Persues showing sibling relations with Leviathan and Sekhmet.

Thanks to the data from H.E.A.T. Unlike most Godzilla variants, Hera and Persues are mutated descendents of normal ignuanas from high exposure to radation caused by nuclear testing in the Atlantic. Hera lacks Atomic breath and is replaced by nuclear fire that doesn't cause much damage compared to other Atomic Breaths. Hera shows neutral and terroirtial behavoir towards humans and is advised to never attempt contact.

Now, to the New Mexcio Incident(See full Incident Report #342 on Data Files). Before the Incident it was reported that people in the outskirts of New Mexcio had begun to suddenly dissappear . Hera, Sekhmet, Leviathan, and Persues were all in New Mexcio. Sekhmet and Leviathan seprated from Hera not long after Hera was caught and subduded by a Kajiu called Kumonga. Kumonga's venom may had not only nearly fatiliy killed Hera, but blocked off telepathic messages to Leviathan and Sekhmet .

When Leviathan and Sekhmet had found Kumonga's lair, seeing Kumong with Hera asumimg she was dead. All of thier pain, thier suffering both physical and emotionial returned, they didn't just kill Kumonga he was tortured to death and thus began the incident. For short context on incident # 342, there was a population 3.566 million people in New Mexcio, after those that died of radation posioning there was only 200,000 left in the entire state.

At the time of the Incident Hera was revived with both Monrach agents and members of H.E.A.T. had synched an antivemon for Kumonga's venmon and inserted it orally into Hera yet was digested at a slow pace, and this was all while Leviathan and Semhket were destroying half of New Mexcio. When Hera was revived she immeddily reestabished telepathic contact with Leviathan and Sekhmet, both Leviathan and Sekhmet had stop thier rampage and returned to Hera.

Godzilla Varient Relations: Hera's relations towards fellow Godzillas other than Leviathan, Semhket, Persus, and Heraclues( See Profile "Heraclues/Horus/Richard" for Context)are more cooperative and neutral. Hera sees Richard as all the Godzillas see him as the Alpha and are highily cooperative with orders from Richard. Godzilla Variants Levithan and Semhket are always seen around Hera, and have been seen playing games with Hera inculding a reverse hide and seek which is popular between l three variants. Hera's relations with other Kajiu including Mothra Variants and Incarnations are terratorial and hostile.

Conclusion on Godzilla Variant: There is alot to learn about such a strange bond between Hera and her foster offspring, and with Incident #342 not only shows what happens when you hurt "Mommy", but on how a Mother's love so strong that it blankets the constant pain of Leviathan and the never ending suffering of Semhket.

[alexthegamingboy]

Toonami Weekly Recap 03/16/2024

Ninja Kamui EP#06: The organization begins searching the city for the lieutenant and Higan. After retreating to heal Higan, the lieutenant reveals herself to be Emma, otherwise known as Aska. She explains to Higan that she was sent by the clan in order to spy on him under the guise of a rookie FBI agent. Aska informs Higan that it will be virtually impossible to defeat the organization without using an armored suit and informs him that she has taken one of the most advanced models during their escape, the Kamui. To use it, Higan must be directly synched to the suit via neural pathways for it to function. Before putting him into deep sleep for the procedure, Aska confirms she was the one who saved him back during the ambush and helped him infiltrate the city. Lil manages to locate their hideout and Aska engages him in battle before ultimately being defeated. During the synching, Aska subconsciously relays to Higan that she was only able to save him because she didn't arrive in time. She explains that Mari saved her life long ago and that the two of them stayed in touch since. Higan finishes the synching and confronts Lil in the Kamui.

Lycoris Recoil EP#09 - What's done is done: Takina manages to force Himegawa to flee, but she still applied a high voltage discharge into Chisato's heart, making it unable to be recharged, giving Chisato only two more months to live. This devastates Takina, but Chisato returns to her daily life, unfazed. Kusunoki recruits Chisato for a raid on Majima's hideout, but she only agrees if she reinstates Takina. Kurumi has Mika reveal ten years ago, despite her talent, Chisato suffered from a congenital heart disease that only gave her six months to live. Seeing her potential, Yoshimatsu arranged for Chisato to receive an artificial heart, under the condition Mika raised her like their own daughter, and ensured she used her talent for killing. However, Chisato saw Yoshimatsu as her "savior", and thus used her abilities for good. Takina and Mizuki overhear the story, and they all agree the best way of tracking down Yoshimatsu is through Majima. Meanwhile, Majima learns about Yoshimatsu and comes up with a new plan. Takina decides to return to the DA to help Chisato, and arranges for a day off to spend time with her. After visiting the park, she thanks Takina and gives her her scarf as a present before leaving. Meanwhile, Yoshimatsu and Himegawa are ambushed and captured by Majima.

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba: Entertainment District Arc EP#17 (44) - Never Give Up: Tanjiro survives his fall but is confronted by Gyutaro, who mocks his inability to protect Nezuko and his friends, slamming him around the burning city. He offers to transform him but Tanjiro responds by head-butting him, secretly stabbing him with a poisoned kunai. With Gyutaro immobilized, he attempts his Hinokami Kagura once more to behead him. Daki intervenes but is attacked by Zenitsu, reaching her neck with his fastest form. Gyutaro removes the kunai and recovers. Before he can kill Tanjiro, Tengen, having halted the poison's effects, intervenes, battling Gyutaro despite his wounds. Seeing his chance, Tanjiro reaches Gyutaro's neck but is stabbed in the jaw. His scar transforms into a fiery mark, giving him the strength to slice through. Zenitsu loses momentum without cutting Daki's neck but is joined by Inosuke, revealing he moved his internal organs upon getting stabbed, causing Gyutaro to miss his heart. The Demon Slayers simultaneously behead the siblings, but in the aftermath, Gyutaro’s body suddenly erupts with blood blades, destroying the city.

[stephenjaymorrisblog]

The Nirvana Effect

Stephen Jay Morris

9/11/2023

©Scientific Morality

The Early 60’s was an innocent time in America if you were White and middle class. Well, on the surface it looked like that. Every sin was a secret. Superficiality was as phony as a three-dollar bill. You were never allowed to express your true feelings because it was bad optics. Your clothes were a status symbol and so was your car. It was the second decade of the teenager and the first time that age groups were recognized as real people.

During the prior decade, Rock & Roll had burst onto the scene, scaring the adults to high heaven. Dance styles emulated sexual movements in bed. Black singers were sexualizing our pure-as-white-as-snow children.

Then, scandals ruined the music movements. Payola was one of them. Record A&R promoters would bribe disk jockeys to play their records. Jerry Lee Lewis married an underaged girl. Elvis got drafted into the Army. The Big Bopper, Ritchie Valens, and Buddy Holly all died in a fatal plane crash.

By 1960, the era of JFK Camelot had taken hold. Rock & Roll was replaced by teen idols—good looking chads with nice pompadours. The fossil fuel industry made millions selling hair tonic to horny, teenage, White boys who wanted to get laid. If you were handsome and could sing, you got an agent who got you a record contract. Then, you had a team of song writers who penned you a hit record. You appeared on teen dance shows and lip synched your hit song. Millions of teenage girls had your picture on their bedroom walls. You had it made! For four years, starting in 1959, teen idols dominated the charts. They ruled the airwaves.

Then, on February 9th, 1964, the Beatles debuted on the Ed Sulivan Show. Afterwards, Franki Avalon, Booby Rydell, and Fabian lost their fame. Some teen idols survived by starring in B movies; others ended up as auto mechanics. One teen idol saved his career by singing a song about an underage girl, “Come Back When You Grow Up, Girl.” For a while, Ephebophilia was a trend in popular music.

All in all, the has-been teen idols blamed their showbiz failure on the Beatles. The Beatles, however, reminded Americans what Rock and Roll was all about. They changed everything about popular music and culture. Long hair replaced slicked-back pompadours. Tennis shoes were replaced by Beatles boots. The Beatles had one Ephebophilia-themed lyric that went, “Well, she was just 17, you know what I mean,…” It was called, “I Saw Her Standing There.” American conservatives claimed the Beatles were after our White, virgin, maidens. Actually—it was the other way around!

Fast forward to the 90’s. The music industry was on top of the Fortune 500. Money and cocaine ruled the decade. The Punk Rock movement fragmented into various sects. Heavy Metal became androgynous; all the metal bands looked like the 70’s New York Dolls. Synthesizers and drum machines dominated the radio airwaves. The Grateful Dead became a traveling hippie band to Gen X goofballs who missed the Summer of Love. College radio stations became popular because commercial radio sucked ass. The so-called Rock stations were playing 70’s Heavy Metal music. Only college radio was the saving grace of real music. Kids knew how fake music had gotten, with the silly clothes and hairdos.

I used to live in Los Angeles, in the Fairfax district. There was a street called Melrose, a two-lane thoroughfare that stretched eastward from West Hollywood to East Hollywood. It had independent store fronts for stuff like plumbing supplies, paint, and carpeting. It also had a few small theaters for actors trying to make it to the big time. Then, suddenly, due to cheap rent, a myriad of shops popped up; trendy shops for the “dedicated followers of fashion.” Before long, the sidewalks became crowded with teens in costumes defined as goth rockers, new romantics, mods, punk rockers, and heavy metal geeks. West Melrose Avenue became a mixture of England’s 1966 Carnaby Street and the Sunset Strip of the same year. I stopped going there.

Everybody became alienated by the superficiality of music. Instead, kids were being drawn to Speed Metal and Hard Core Punk.

Then, up in Aberdeen Washington, a new band appeared. They looked like early 70’s Hippies. They played a mixture of Punk and Heavy Metal. They didn’t give a shit about their appearance. They had no money for nice clothes or haircuts. It was because of this that Rock critics gave them the moniker, “grunge.” They were “Nirvana.” After they hit the scene, like Detroit in the 60’s, Seatle became the new capital of Rock. The Seattle bands took Rock music back to their roots!

Overnight, nobody hung out on Melrose anymore. Glam Rock clubs closed, chicks with dicks bands disappeared, and Techno Pop vanished from radio.  Subsequently, these types all blamed Nirvana. So-called “Alternative Rock” was born. Then, Gangster Rap came crashing into the youth’s consciousness. Grunge took over, as did Speed Core bands. Rock was back! But not to stay; It lasted just 10 years.

A lot of 80’s musicians blamed Nirvana for their unemployment. They have themselves to blame. There is more to Rock and Roll than drug orgies, outlandish outfits, and fancy guitars. It was all about the music. 80’s rock stars wanted glory and fun, but not the hard work of creativity and artistry of the music.

Thank God for the Beatles’ and Nirvana’s revolutions. What will be next?

Big mystery!