#after they're both done i will properly render them... maybe

[ballcrusher74]

little faux suit peek + inspector's new suit wip cus his one rn kinda sucks

[apoptoses]

♡ + Armand/Marius?

It took me a minute to answer these because I wanted to answer in detail. And they’re sweet questions, so here’s some sweet answers ♥

•Who’s the most affectionate?

In Venice? Armand. It's a wonder Marius ever got anything done with him slinking around, always trying to sneak a cuddle or a kiss. He was like the cat that manages to work its way into your lap no matter how much you twist around and try to put your laptop in the way. Marius could hunch over his desk with his journal and Armand would still find a way to drape himself over his back until he could no longer be ignored.

Modern day? Marius. The man's got some making up to do and it's high time Armand get pursued.

•Who initiates the handholding?

At home it's 50/50. In public I always picture Armand as someone who holds onto his partner's elbow, which is a suitably dignified level of PDA for Marius and also means if Armand is in a mood he can subtly drag him around by the arm with no one the wiser about who's leading who.

•Who worries more for the other?

Marius absolutely worries himself into knots about Armand, he just has such a difficult time showing it. I don't believe that a single day went by in between the kidnapping and the reunion in QotD that he wasn't worrying. It was just that he pushed those thoughts down inside himself and tried to bury them.

•Who is more likely to ask for help?

Unless the threat of death is imminent? Neither of them. Though in a less serious way, I see Armand using needing 'help' as a bid for attention 'Help me open this jar', 'help me wash my back', 'help me get dressed'. With all of those laces on 15th century clothes? You better believe Armand pestered Marius to 'help' him tie up his hose and in doing so got what he really wanted, and ended up stripped out of them.

•Who is the one always losing the keys?

God, both of them. They both have tendencies to collect stuff and hyperfocus, and we all know what that does to a person when it comes to keeping track of little items. Thank god for their immortal gifts rendering keys unnecessary.

•Who leaves little love notes for the other?

I like to think that Marius, upon learning how his fatalistic commentary in his journal wounded Armand, decided to correct course by writing kind things about him and leaving them around where he knew Armand could see. Maybe apologizing in words is difficult, but leaving his journal open to a page where he describes Armand's lovely eyes? That's not so hard at all.

•Who can’t sleep unless the other is there?

Armand. As a mortal his body just knew when Marius had left, and he would jerk out of his sleep and find the bed empty. It would take him ages to fall back asleep, tossing and turning the whole time. Perhaps on that very first night of immortality he climbed willingly into his own coffin. But after that? Just before sunrise he would sneak back out and open the coffin beside his, and climb in beside Marius to let sleep take them both.

•Who is more likely to propose to the other?

I'm not sure they're the proposing type- they both have so many other relationships. But I totally see Armand remembering the diamond ring Marius gave him, the one he described as having the white light of god. And once they've properly made up and smoothed things out between them for good he would seek out a similar matching set so that Marius, like his other loves, has a ring with a gemstone that goes with one of his.

•Who introduced the other to their family first?

Well, we have this answer in canon, don't we? I wonder though, if Armand wishes that instead of standing in the shadows Marius would have spoken to his family with him. He got to see them all for one last time but they never knew who the man with him was. He never could have told them the full details of their relationship, of course- but it's bittersweet that Marius was right there the whole time watching them.

•Who is more likely to play with the other’s hair?

Oh, it's 50/50. Armand had the nicest perfumed hair in Venice from Marius taking him into that big bathtub and washing his hair for him as often as he could. And then later when they were lying in bed Armand was fascinated by how long and pale blond Marius's hair was, silkier than even Bianca's. He'd have his fingers tangled in it as he fell asleep and Marius would have to gently pry them out so he could get out of bed every morning.

•Who makes sure the other has meals/stays hydrated?

In the past? Marius would ply mortal Armand with food and keep their cooks working into the night, for if he had a whim to feed him honey and figs at midnight he was going to do it. It was a special pleasure watching Armand eat, because he was always so fascinated by the exotic things Marius managed to have imported into Venice for him to try. And then later, when Armand was immortal- watching him feed then was a special pleasure too.

Now? With his lapses into focusing too hard on painting or on his work at court, Armand is compelled to check in on him. He has a smart mouthed way of hassling him to get his nose out of a book and get out in the city that's so reminiscent of young Amadeo that Marius can't help but shake his head and do as he's asked.

•Who is more likely to stand up to anyone for the other?

Oh man, what question considering their history lol I think they both know they're capable of fighting their own battles but if anyone stepped to Armand in a dangerous way Marius would be there, hoping to make up for his past failures by protecting him this time.

•Who is the most likely to prepare a surprise for the other?

In TVA Armand mentions the boys preparing things to read or music to play when Marius came home and I think he was instrumental in organizing some of that. He would pick the readings or the music for the night, or if he was feeling feisty he'd put together a little fencing tournament with the boys to surprise Marius and Bianca together.

And then in the modern day, when Armand picks up art again- he would surprise Marius with that, and leave one of his first paintings in half a millennia in his rooms as a gift for him.

•Who makes the other pinky promise not to do certain things?

Armand does it, specifically for the dry look he gets when, in front of the entire court, he makes Marius pinky promise to let this meeting end on time and not sit there asking Lestat questions that they all know Marius will ignore the answer to anyways.

•Who puts a blanket over the other when they fall asleep on the couch?

Marius. It's a habit he developed when Armand was mortal and more affected by temperature. He'd drift off on the bed and, unwilling to wake him and make him get under the covers, Marius would get one of his silk velvet cloaks out to cover him with. It's the same now if he passes the sofa and sees Armand has drifted off with a book. He finds the nearest throw blanket and tucks it around him.

[azpaintingltd]

Brutally Honest Tips About Painting Your House

If you're like me, painting your house is not a DIY project. You know that an amateur job will only lead to a waste of time and money. The good news is that if you follow the tips below, you'll be able to save yourself a lot of hassle—and ensure that your home looks great!

Painting is not a DIY project.

Painting your house is a complex and detailed process, one that requires knowledge and experience. If you're going to paint your home yourself, it's important that you know what you're doing--and have the right equipment, supplies and materials on hand. You also need to have the right tools for the job: brushes (a good quality natural bristle brush), rollers (1/2" nap), scrapers and more!

Get the prep work right.

You want to make sure you have all of your tools and equipment ready before you start painting, so that once it's time for action, there are no delays or distractions. This includes:

Cleaning up any leftover paint from previous projects (or even just dust). You don't want old paint clogging up brushes or getting stuck in crevices where it won't dry properly--and besides, nobody wants to live in a house with leftover paint around! Make sure all tools are clean as well; even if it looks like there isn't much left over on them, if they're not cleaned off regularly then some could still be present when you use them again later on down the road...and then suddenly BOOM! Instant messiness! If nothing else works out right this week (and let's face facts: sometimes things just don't), at least we'll always have our good friend Mr./Ms. Murphy cheering us up by reminding us how bad things could be if only we hadn't been careful enough with those brushes earlier today."

Pick an experienced painter and make sure they know what they're doing.

When you're looking for a painter, there are a few things to keep in mind. First, ask for references from previous clients. You should also make sure they have enough experience doing what you want them to do--if you have an old house that needs major restoration work done and the painter has only ever painted houses with vinyl siding, then maybe look elsewhere (or wait until they've had more experience).

When checking out the contractor's insurance policy, make sure it covers both liability for injuries and property damage as well as workmen's comp if anyone gets hurt on site while working on your home. You should also confirm whether or not they carry general liability insurance coverage before signing any contracts or making payments toward services rendered by them during their term of employment; this will protect against any unforeseen incidents that could occur during normal working hours such as accidents resulting from faulty equipment or materials used during projects like painting houses.*

Don't skimp on supplies or equipment.

The difference between a $20 roller cover and a $5 one can be the difference between a painting job that looks like it was done by professionals and one that looks like it was done by someone who just found out they were pregnant.

For example: I bought some cheap paint brushes once because I was trying to save money and didn't realize how bad they would be until after my first couple of strokes in the wall--the bristles started falling out as soon as I touched them against my wet walls! Don't make this mistake; buy quality products from companies like Purdy or Royal & Langnickel instead of going with something generic at Walmart (or worse yet, Home Depot).

Plan your painting schedule from A to Z.

Before you start painting, make sure that you have everything on hand: brushes, paint rollers and pads, drop cloths (or plastic sheeting), masking tape or painter's tape. And don't forget the right kind of primer for your walls!

You also need to know how much time it will take for each coat of paint--and if there's any prep work involved before applying the first coat. For example, if your walls are textured or have wallpaper on them that needs removal, factor that into your planning process as well.

If something goes wrong during the project--maybe an unexpected problem arises at work and delays your arrival home by 45 minutes; or maybe someone asks for help moving furniture out from under one corner of their house while another corner remains untouched--make sure everyone knows what needs to happen next so everyone stays on track with their plans without getting stressed out over small details like these when they could be enjoying themselves instead (or just relaxing).

Hire a professional if you need it done fast, or if you just want it done right the first time around!

If you need it done quickly and right the first time around, then hire a professional. You can also hire a professional to do your painting if you just want it done right or if you have any doubts about your ability to paint correctly. If not hiring an expert is in budget and/or time constraints are tight, then consider hiring someone who knows what they're doing!

We're AZ Painting Ltd., and we've got you covered. We are a team of professional painters in Vancouver, BC who specialize in commercial painting. We have been working hard to become the best in our field and pride ourselves on providing a quality product that stands up to the test of time. We take great care to ensure that we are able to meet all of our clients' expectations and make sure they're happy with their finished products.

We're AZ Painting Ltd. and we are the painters in Vancouver who you can trust to make your commercial painting Vancouver projects a reality. We know what it takes to get your project done right, and that's why our company is one of the most popular commercial painting companies in Vancouver. Whether you need interior or exterior work done, we've got you covered!

AZ Painting Ltd. 7235 18th Ave, Burnaby, BC V3N 1H4 1(778)231-6622 https://azpaintingvancouver.ca/

[caffeineforbucky]

As Time Goes By...(Chapter three)

A/N: This one took a while to write. I've just been so busy doing absolutely nothing all while procrastinating, so special thanks to that. No, but I really hope you like this, fellow reader. If you like the series, let me know if you want to be tagged!

(Side note: I've been playing RE8, thirsting over lady D, and dying over and over...it's going great! It's part of the procrastination...)

Also, has anyone seen the Bridgerton musical tiktoks? I swear I've had the 'burn for you' song in my head all last month and if you've been living under a rock...here's the link:

https://youtu.be/EwY9_m5qeow

Word Count: 2,299

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem! Reader

Warnings: I don't know....angst? As always, John Walker!?! AKA; Fake Cap. Umm...If I missed any let me know.

(A little PSA: I don't hate John Walker: or the actor. John is a well-written character. This is just strictly for the purpose of where my story is going. I'm more reiterating how Bucky treats him in the show. Thank you!!)

You groan, rolling from your left side to lay flatly on your back, arms spread out beside you. You inhale deeply, becoming aware of the moistened dirt and crushed wildflowers beneath you as they release their aromatics. Birds chirped around you, the busy sounds of traffic fading away while you lie still in the field, oxygen feeling heavy in your lungs.

"Y/N?!"

You barely heard the worrisome calls of Sam over the sound of your heart pounding in your ears. You lift your head, the view of icy mountains in the distance, blurry figures making their way towards you while you somehow managed to sit up. Your head was spinning, a sharp ache on the side of your thigh.

Your eyes flickered down, taking note of the small paring knife lodged in your thigh. You exhaled softly, nodding your head at the sight of it. "Okay," You grumble in agreement. With shaking hands, you wrap your fingers around the handle, bracing yourself by taking intervolved breaths before carefully pulling it from your thigh.

You worked fast, ignoring the crunch of rocks and dirt under the acknowledgeable footsteps of Sam and Bucky. Taking babochka, you cut off the end of your pant leg, wrapping the spandex around your wounded thigh before securing it with one of the holsters, tying the ends into a knot. You remain quiet, carefully pushing yourself up to your feet, transferring all of the weight to the opposite leg, eyes drifting up to meet the guys. "Are you guys okay?" You murmur, dusting off the clumps of dirt and dead leaves from your jacket.

"Are you?!" Sam exclaimed incredulously. "You're bleeding!" He points out, gesturing to the bright red staining the skin of your calf as it dripped down to your boot. The wrap might've held the wound shut, but that didn't mean blood wouldn't have soaked through.

"Oh, this?" You ask, glancing down at your leg, the wound throbbing in agony, but you did your best to avoid it. "I've had worse." That was true, from all those years fighting as an avenger. Getting shot, kicked, stabbed, beaten until you were purple, and undergoing mind control. This tiny stab was the least of your worries. It still hurt like hell, and you couldn't hide the discomfort in your features.

"Do you want a piggyback?" Bucky asks suddenly, slightly annoyed at your nonchalance and still concerned nonetheless. You weren't expecting it, the odd but kind offer, especially from the menace himself. Though you weren't one to pass up being carried. With a hesitant nod, you agree, watching Bucky crouch just a bit, allowing you to climb on his back.

The position was awkward for both of you. With his hands tightening on the back of your knees and your arms wrapped around his neck, neither of you could think straight. Yet, you were still thankful. The road to the airport was a long one, and you weren't sure if you could make it in your state. Bucky held you as if you weighed nothing, his super-soldier strength showing off while he carried you on his back, footsteps matching up with Sam. He didn't mind doing it, especially since he was the one who offered, and the proximity was just a bonus.

"Sorry about Redwing," Bucky muses, breaking the silence while the three of you sauntered down the empty road. There was nothing for miles, only empty plains of grass and dirt. Young trees scattered, lacking the greenery around them, evident of the cold weather in Munich.

"No, you're not," Sam remarks, narrowing his eyes to a pinprick at the winter soldier. "You've always hated Redwing."

"That doesn't mean I'm not sorry about it," Bucky grumbles, tightening his hold on you as he felt you slipping. You gasp at the sudden strength, clinging better to his shoulders as well. "How're you doin' up there?" He asks, jaw clenching from your touch.

"All things considering," You sigh, pushing aside the butterflies in your tummy at how close you were to Bucky. "I've been better. We've gotta find out where that super serum is coming from."

"Yeah," Sam chimed in, glancing at you. "-And how the hell after 80 years are there eight super-soldiers runnin' loose?"

Loud honks of a horn ring in your ears, tires treading on the gravel as an army jeep slows down beside the three of you. "So, that didn't go as planned, huh?" John chuckles, pushing the door open only for you to keep walking, paying no mind to the man in stars and stripes.

"Okay, keep going," John utters, signaling the driver to keep up as he pulls the door shut. "Look, at least we know what we're up against, huh? And I'm pretty sure it's one of the big three...so,"

"Aliens, androids, or wizards," Lemar comments as John nods his head in agreement.

"There's no such thing as wizards!" Bucky grunts, keeping his eyes forward, hands on the back of your knees.

"Fine, aliens or androids," John settles, sharing a look with his best friend beside him. "Look, it's 20 miles to the airport, and you guys need a ride. Gary, stop," He instructs, the wheels slowing down. John opens the door once again. "Get in," He sighs, motioning all of you inside the jeep as Bucky and Sam's footsteps came to a halt.

Bucky gently sets you down, taking note of the small whimpers falling from your lips. No matter how tough you appeared to be, you still carried so much vulnerability. "You okay?" He asks, eyes filled with so much concern it almost scared you. He hadn't looked at you like that in a while. "Do you want any help?"

With a soft nod, you oblige to Bucky's ask, needing more help than you anticipated. You didn't want to add any strain or force to your injury. You didn't even realize it happened, and that part of it was Sam's fault for swooping to grab you while you had a knife in hand, but you weren't going to start pointing fingers. You wrap your arm around Bucky's shoulder, using him as support while he boosts you up on the jeep after Sam climbs up first, helping you settle beside him.

"Woah!" John exclaims, almost rising to his feet at the sight of your thigh, your hands stained with blood. "Are you okay?"

With a curt nod, you adjust yourself to relieve some of the pressure while Bucky takes a seat on your left, leaving you to be right smack dab in the middle as he pulls the door shut. You blow out a breath, knowing damn well if it hadn't been for the mishap, you would've walked the damn 20 miles.

"Lemar, hand me the first aid kit," John instructs, pointing to the steel case beside his friend. You wanted to protest, but even you knew that the strap wasn't going to work. Mouthing a thank you, you take the case from Lemar's hand and clip it open.

"Okay, so we got eight super-soldiers on a bulk supply run," John continues, the jeep beginning to roll down the road. You hand the case to Sam, asking him to hold it while you searched for gauze, medical tape, and butterfly bandages, you were probably going to need stitches, but you'd worry about that later. "Why?" John asks, watching closely as you patched up your wound.

"They say their mission is to get things back to the way it was during the blip," Sam answers, handing you another strip of tape. "Maybe they're just tryna help."

"They had a funny way of showing it," Bucky adds, his eyes trained on you, a hiss slipping through your lips as you roll down the remaining spandex. You sigh in relief, the ache becoming dull as you shut the case, giving it back to Lemar.

"Better?" John asks, earning a single nod as a response. "I don't think we've properly met. John Walker," he smiles, offering a shake of his hand, but you didn't move, only staring at the outstretched palm in front of you. "Does she talk?" John mumbles suddenly, looking to Sam or Bucky for a reply.

Your eyes cast down, gaze hardening at the sight of the shield in his grasp. Flashes of Steve running through your mind, the many times he'd catch you trying to throw it like he would. Steve Rogers meant a lot to you, having joined him in not signing the Sokovian accords, being an outlaw, and helping to clear Bucky's name with Sam. So, seeing a man who wasn't Steve hold the shield awoke something in you. Something unkind and hateful.

"When she wants to," You claim, John squirms in his seat, sensing the tension as your eyes flicker to his. "And frankly has no desire to speak to you."

"You don't even know me," John defends, glancing at Bucky, a sly smirk on his lips, and Sam, who rendered quiet, his eyes looking elsewhere. John sets his attention back on you, lips razor thin.

You scoff, shaking your head softly as you fold your arms over your chest. "Jonathon F. Walker," You begin, leaning back in your seat, your eyes never leaving his. "Former Captain of the U.S Army's 75th Rangers Regiment. Graduated at the top of your class from the United States Military and the first person in American history to receive three medals of honor, ran RS-one missions in counterterrorism and hostage rescue."

John's tongue darts between his lips, a frown spreading throughout his forehead at the information you were giving him. Either you did research on him or, you just read his file, which you had done both. You were not one to go into a mission without potentially knowing who you were up against. It was better to be safe than sorry.

"So you saw the news?" John chuckles, the frown falling from his features while he shrugs. "Big deal, so did the entire world."

"Custer's Grove High school alumni."

John's smile falters.

"There you met, Lemar Hoskins and your current wife," You tilt your head in curiosity. "Olivia, right? Or am I getting it wrong?"

Clearing his throat softly, John broke eye contact with you. So you did know him, and you probably knew more than you led on. "Do they always just stare like that?" He gestures between you and Bucky, who had displayed the same distaste for him.

Sam glances beside him, observing the matched body language you shared with Bucky, its no wonder Bucky had taken a liking to you, even if he'd never admit it. "You get used to it," Sam smirks, turning his head back to Walker.

"Okay..." John drags, eyes flickering to the more sensible one of the trio, and that was Sam. "Look, that serum doesn't have the greatest track record, no offense," He waves his hand, dismissing the insult directed towards the only super-soldier in the car.

"We need to figure out where they're going. How'd you track 'em here?" Sam asks, "The flag smashers."

"Uh," Lemar murmurs, scratching the back of his head. "We didn't track them. We tracked you through Redwing."

"You hacked my tech!?" Sam gripes, straightening out his back as he sat up.

"Sorry," John laughs, "It's not exactly hacking. It's government property...kind of the government. Alright, you know things have gotten kind of..."

"Chaotic," Lemar adds.

"Yeah," John nods in agreement. "The GRC, they're doing their best to get things up and running smoothly post blip. If you guys teamed up with us-"

"No." Bucky interrupts. He couldn't let Walker finish that sentence.

"I've got mad respect for all of you," Lemar praises, looking between the trio before him. "But you were getting your asses kicked 'til we showed up."

"And who are you?" Bucky bemuses, cocking a brow at the man next to John.

"Lemar Hoskins," You mention, "I could've sworn we've been through this." You shake your head at the old man, for being 106, he couldn't hear a thing.

"I see a guy hanging out of a helicopter in tactical gear," Sam shrugs, "I'm gonna need a lot more than Lemar Hoskins."

"I'm Battlestar, John's partner."

"Battlestar?" Bucky repeats, narrowing his eyes at Lemar as he nods, confirming his alias. "Stop the car!" Bucky shouts suddenly, brakes screeching as the wheels come to a stop in the middle of the road. Bucky pulls open the handle, ducking, as to not rail his head on the bar-frame above him before hopping off the jeep.

"Look, I get it, okay?" John sighs, calling after Bucky. "I get the attitude, I do. You didn't think the shield was gonna end up here. I get it, Bucky. And I'm not trying to be Steve!"

"Good," You interject, rendering John to settle his eyes on you. "Because you will never be. And just because you're the one wielding it..." You grab the bar above your head, using it to pull yourself up. "It doesn't make you Captain America." And with that, you carefully jump off the jeep, following after the heated super-soldier.

Sighing in frustration, he rips his eyes away from your retreating figures. "I'm not trying to replace him either. I'm just trying to be the best Captain America I can be." He explains to Sam, hoping the falcon would cut him some slack. "-And it'd be a whole lot easier if I had Cap's wingman on my side."

Sam's eyes widen in surprise, his tongue darting between his lips. "It's always that last line," He scoffs, shaking his head as he jumped off the car, following you and Bucky.

John's lips thin out, face scrunching in a scowl. "Let's go," He instructs. The sound of the jeep leaving making its way to your ears.

[jamkookies]

Okay

Description : A trip to Malta for the shooting of Bon Voyage seems peaceful enough until the moment things take an unexpected turn...

Word count : 3.3k

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

"Please, sir! I'm begging you! Open up, please!"

It was surprising how the both of you hadn't even moved an inch despite the cries that had begun to turn downright hopeless but as Jungkook's arm shields your body defensively, you decide that you just can't take it anymore.

"Jungkook, we should take a look." you say hesitantly, turning your head in his direction.

"No way. It's a trap." he claims. "I'm sure of it."

Your eyes keep boring holes into the door as if your vision could penetrate it.

It's quiet for a while.

Maybe he left.

Maybe he-

A thunderous boom to the door.

"We have to at least take a look, dammit!" you exclaim and push his arm away, now decisively heading towards it.

"Wait!" Jungkook yells after you but instead of stopping you, he joins your side. Before you can make any further attempts, he mushes his face onto the platform and looks into the tiny peephole. Curiosity can hardly keep you still.

At last, Jungkook retreats and motions for you to take a look as well but you don't know whether to expect a garnison of soldiers or a horde of wild bisons behind the door because the expression on his face is unreadable.

The cold surface of the platform touching your forehead only makes you grow even more uncomfortable. Then, your eyes are able to discern an obscure figure behind the magnifying glass. "You've got to be kidding me, " you whisper as your eyes naturally widen.

This could not be.

Him, out of all people....

Both you and Jungkook exchange a look of silent agreement and he pushes the open button with no words needed. The door swings open to reveal a slightly dishevelled-looking man with multiple cuts and bruises marking his face. Those eyes you'd seen gleaming with vigilance are now tired, drowsy yet still scarred with horrors you could only imagine. You'd never forget those eyes because they had been the ones that had given you a chance to escape, a chance to save yourselves.

"What are you doing here?" Jungkook wonders, not bluntly but rather in a puzzled demeanor.

"Let me in, please. I'll explain everything, " the old bodyguard says and throws a look behind his back and down the stairs.

You and Jungkook exchange another look and then the latter opens the door wider, giving him space to enter. The bodyguard's face almost melts in relief upon the gesture. He crosses the doorstep in two huge strides, putting the farthest distance from it.

From the moment the lock clicks back in place, a deafening silence hangs into the air, adding even more to the suspense.

You decide to break the ice first. "What do you mean they're gonna kill your family?"

The bodyguard takes notice of where your eyes are fixed and he unconsciously touches a bruise on his chin. "Actually, I lied about that. I had to convince you to open the door."

Your anger flares like wild fire but before the flames can grow higher he quickly compensates for his mistake. "I'm really sorry. I had to.They...they did some things to me...I'll explain everything but I don't have much time."

"Why?" you demand. "Are they following yo-"

"What are you doing here in the first place?" Jungkook interrupts.

The man appears to be going through an internal conflict as his eyes shut tight, hands clench and unclench and the line of his eyebrows angles into a wide V. His distressed condition explained so much and yet so little. His eyes that up till now had been staring at the ground, lift to level up with yours and then flick to Jungkook's. "I went through hell itself to get here unnoticed. I'll have to go soon. But before I do, there's something you should know."

* * *

As much as Jungkook refused to drop the disgruntled attitude, he still made the man sit on the couch and then proceeded to offer him a much needed glass of water. The man drank and drank and drank like he'd forgotten its taste and freshness and after his thirst was sedated, he started chirping like a bird.

"First of all, I want to apologize about trying to take you by force back in Malta, even though in reality it was not my choice."

"We'd figured that out, " you confirm. "But why did you help us escape?"

You'd been racking your brains out for a long time now, trying to come up with a logical explanation but no answer fit in the frame. You just couldn't understand why he would put himself in danger so you could run away.

It didn't make any sense.

"I couldn't just let them take you like prisoners, " he says. "I had to at least give you a chance because I myself wasn't given one."

Jungkook's brows wrinkle in confusion. "What do you mean?"

A look of something like shame casts upon the man's face and he stares at his clasped hands. "When I first got this job, I didn't know what I was getting myself into. Being a bodyguard, I had taken everything into account, including the fact that I would probably have to give up my life at some point but I never thought I'd be involved in criminal affairs."

Criminal affairs? What was he talking about?

"I thought it was normal at first. I thought this was how things normally went but when you decided to go to that trip in Malta I realized that I couldn't get out of this sucking hole no matter how much I tried. And the worst thing about it is that you've had to suffer along all this time without even knowing it."

Jungkook raises a hand to stop him. "Whoa whoa whoa, hold on there a second. Are you talking about Sejin making Y/N leave? And the the thing at the plane? I know he went a little too far but-"

"You think that's a coincidence?" the man shoots back. "He set everything up. From the tickets to the hotel to everything. Every single piece of it was planned out."

Your teeth grind against each other with a mixed state of anger and shock putting them into action. When you throw a glance at Jungkook's traumatised form, tears start to form at the corners of your eyes. The man's statement seemed to had jarred him to the bone and rendered him speechless, incapable of forming a coherent thought.

"I apologize for that, " the man continues. "I didn't want to say it straight away because I knew it would come as a shock to you but Mr.Sejin is not who you think he is. I've had to live with this knowledge for years now."

For a moment, Jungkook's eyes clear up and he blinks a number of times till his attention is completely aimed at the man's face. "Is this a joke or something? Did he send you here to play with us?"

The man's expression remains stoic, forever expressionless but even through his mask you could make out the scars of horrendous truths.

He wasn't lying.

You both knew that but you just couldn't accept it, even though deep down you had always sensed that the origin of your ordeals had been somehow designated.

The said bodyguard points a finger at his face. "You see these bruises, sir? They gave them to me as a punishment for not being able to bring you back. Beat me up till I fainted. When I woke up they made it clear that this time the job had to be done properly. That's why I'm here. To bring you back. But I won't be doing that. I'm here to make sure that you know who you're dealing with. I don't have the authority to talk with his superiors. Trust me, I've even tried to but he's always one step ahead of me." He smiles sadly. "I've gotten countless warnings because of that."

Jungkook puts his head in his hands and agressively ruffles his hair. "How long has this been going?"

The man doesn't hesitate. "6 years. Since the moment Ms.Y/N set foot on that company. He was obsessed with the idea of a boy-group only and didn't want any other intruders. I can witness the number of times he complained to his superiors about not letting her join. He kept pestering them, kept telling them all sorts of things but PD-nim was the one who insisted on taking her. After that he was absolutely furious. You should've seen the way he flung things around in his office. It made me scared for a moment."

He releases a long-kept sigh and shakes his head dreadfully.

"This went on for as much as I can remember. He never changed, always kept making attempts into kicking her out and covered it with a fake smile. But this time he had it all planned out to the smallest detail and couldn't afford to just brush it off as usual. That's probably his biggest mistake so far. He just couldn't stand hiding in a bush anymore so he went 'go hard or go home' I guess."

All this new information was making your head spin. Your mind wasn't helping either, continuously attaching images to the words, helping build up the portrayal of the man who had detested you for so many years, piece by piece. To say that you'd been dismayed was an understatement. You just couldn't believe your ears, couldn't wrap your head around the idea.

"What exactly had he planned?" asks Jungkook with a tint of hesitation in his voice. Understandable enough, taking into consideration the fact that he was fed up with the truths he'd heard. The bodyguard takes a sip from his glass and gulps audibly. He keeps throwing nervous looks at the door, as if waiting for someone to burst in.

"If you can remember....the accident with the saesang girl...."

No

Not that

Anything but that

"It was not an accident, " he confirms. "Your manager planned it."

No

No no no no no no-

"He hired that girl knowing she was a saesang and told her what she had to do. He promised her Jungkook would be hers if she managed to get the job done. That night, when you sneaked out into the forest, it's like you offered yourselves to her in a silver platter. And that's how it went. She took care of everything; the car, the tools, even her assistant."

He shakes his head and you see a melancholic smile cast upon his lips as he looks directly at you. "Stupid girl. She hated you so much to the point where she even ignored Sejin's orders for a moment. He'd never intended to kill you. Obviously, he wasn't that stupid. But she didn't care at all. Thought about getting rid if you since she had the chance and went all-psycho. Unfortunately for her, you managed to escape and that's when Mr.Sejin got angry. Really, really angry. His face got all red and puffy and when Namjoon-ssi tried to talk to him, worried about you gone missing, he yelled in his face."

Joon.

You can almost feel the nostalgic taste of the word in your tongue. It was like smelling that familiar aroma of fresh flowers that grew in your back yard and being swept into a wave of old memories. Sick of you, to not think enough about him all this time, when all he'd ever did was worry about you.

You missed them. All of them. So much to the point where it hurt.

Were they okay?

Now that you were certain about your manager's intentions, you couldn't help feeling concerned about the rest of the boys.

Unaware of your thoughts, the man continues with his story. "And things got even worse when she shot you and you jumped into the stream. I guess she panicked. Her voice was literally shaking from the other side of the phone during the call with manager-nim. I don't know what she said exactly but it still didn't make him give up. After all, he had to prepare for the grand finale."

Jungkook's sharp intake of breath switches your attention to him. You examine his face carefully, looking for any signs of panic but nothing makes it to the surface.

At least not yet.

"-called the ambulance to make sure you wouldn't die."

The momentary distraction had made you zone out and you're only able to catch the last part of the phrase.

"Then what?" Jungkook asks softly.

It's like the man's physiognomy is put into action; eyelids blinking furiously, lips opening and closing, hands fumbling with each-other. He seems nervous to keep talking and that only puts Jungkook on edge even more.

"Then what? " the latter insists. Bolder this time.

The man chokes the words out. "Th-then you wrestled with that girl's assistant. And-"

"And I killed him." Jungkook finishes for him. You notice the way his eyes turn glassy and distant, as if they'd travelled back in time, recalling the events.

"No, sir. He's alive."

Both yours and Jungkook's head snap in his direction with lightning speed.

Had you just imagined him saying that?

"What?" you voice.

"He didn't kill him, " the man confirms and this time you can clearly see his lips matching the words. "It was all a trick."

Clash

"No!"

Tiny little glass shards scatter across the floor, but you don't even have time to react as another loud noise joins it.

"No!" Jungkook yells again after taking out the anger on the second vase. " I don't believe you! You're lying!" He's fully risen to his feet, his chest puffed from breathing too hard. You've never seen him like this, so angry and panicked and scared.

"He's alive, sir. I'm not lying. They enacted the death-"

"Shut up!" Jungkook screams.

"-to make Y/N-ssi feel guilty and leave. Please, sir. You have to listen to me. You did not kill anyone."

A storm of emotions drowns you whole and it's impossible to pinpoint a particular feeling in the midst of all the chaos. Pain, sadness, relief, anger. They all come as a flooding mess, an absolute wreck.

But none of that matters now.

Not as you notice Jungkook from the corner of your eye, slowly sink to the floor and curl into a ball. It's just like that night at the hotel. He rocks back and forth with no awareness of his surroundings, completely lost in his despair.

The storyteller gives him a perplexed look. He must be wondering why Jungkook was reacting this way, why he didn't sigh in relief upon the news of his innocence.

That's because the man didn't know what the idea of killing someone had done to him and how hard it was to just rip that thought out of his mind. He'd convinced himself over and over that he was guilty, that he was a murderer. You'd witnessed it yourself during all those restless nights filled with nightmares driven by his own conscience. You'd both tried to speak as little as you could about it by trying to avoid that fact but now that he's given up and let himself fall apart, you're able to see how it had ruined him beyond repair.

You glare at the bodyguard to stop him from going further and rush to Jungkook's side on the floor.

And your heart shatters into a million pieces.

He's sobbing like a little child.

A grown-up man turned into a little kid just like that, with his arms wrapped around his knees, head buried low within.

You carefully approach him and crouch on the floor, putting a hesitant hand on his shoulder. "Kook..."

He doesn't even acknowledge your presence and his sobs only seem to increase but that doesn't discourage you from throwing your arms around him in a wide hug.

"It's okay, Kook. You're okay."

Suddenly, his hands wrap around your waist and he hugs you so tightly, you almost fall back. You thread your fingers through his dark silky hair and pat his head.

Another choked sob escapes his throat.

Oh how you wished you were the one suffering, not him. If only you could take all his pain from him, you'd gladly do it. You'd do anything for him.

His fists scrunch the fabric on the back of your shirt as hit tears spill on your collarbones.

"You're okay, you're okay, shhhhhhh." you whisper in his ear.

All is forgotten by now. The only thing you can focus on is to let him know that you were here, that you understood, and that it was okay to feel like this.

It was okay not to be okay.

* * *

You'd lost all sense of time with Jungkook in your arms that you'd failed to even throw a look at the man in the corner, silently waiting for the situation to cool down.

"I'm sorry." you hear Jungkook's worn voice at the side of your neck.

"Don't be." you answer. "It's not your fault."

He finally unties his hands from your waist and takes a deep breath. A dark veil still hangs in his eyes but he tries to cover it up with a weak smile. However, the smile turns a tad bit more genuine when you cup his cheek with one hand and gently caress it.

"I'll get you some water," you say and make to get up but he grips your hand and looks up at you with pleading eyes.

"Don't go."

If you could choose to have an image branded at the back of your mind, this particular one would be it. Those big round eyes and the messy curls that fell over them carelessly, that scar on his cheekbone, the one you'd always loved, and the pouty lips under the frame of which a tiny mole showed.

You feel like crying and laughing at the same time.

Yet you still understand.

He needed the physical support as much as the he needed the emotional one in order to have something to hang onto. A safe harbor to keep him from straying off into the dark corners of his traumas.

"Okay." You sit back down and Jungkook clings onto your arm almost immediately.

"Sir, " the man finally decides to speak. "I'm really sorry about everything."

Jungkook nods in affirmation.

You're just about to add something when the man's inner pocket of his coat starts to vibrate.

He gulps.

Looks at the door.

With shaking hands, he reaches inside his coat and retrieves his phone.

"It's him." he says upon taking a look at the screen.

Your senses tingle with a mind of their own. What you'd been talking about all this time takes the form of a man. The source of all your fears and sufferings.

The floor suddenly grows uncomfortable.

Bzzzzzzzz

It's like the vibrations are digging into your brain, each buzz more unbearable than the other.

The man can't seem to take it anymore. He taps on the phone and pushes it to his ear.

A gruff voice joins the line.

You're not able to catch any of the words but the man's face says it all.

Something happened.

"Don't hurt them, " he croaks.

More yelling on the other side of the phone call.

Then, silence.

At this point you don't know what to expect. You tightly squeeze Jungkook's leg in reassurance.

The man's begging eyes turn to plead with yours, desperate, hopeless. "I'm sorry, " he says and runs off to the door.

But instead of leaving, he pushes the open button.

And waits.

Your heart leaps in your throat when a dozen other bodyguards rush inside.

[blueplanettrash]

If you're still doing Voltron fics, could you do one with a Winged AU where Lance hides his wings because they're different, pretty, but different, and when something goes wrong on a mission he uses them to save everyone with some really cool unique power he has? I mean, if you want to. I really love your work and wanted to know.

This took me like three days to do because I couldn’t stop colouring wings for them. Anyways, I hope you guys like this.

Lance watched his teammate’s fly around the nest he was laying in. They set up the nest in the hanger’s rafters so they could easily go up there after missions and still have plenty of room to fly around when they were traveling through space. He found it funny; when he first met each of them in the Garrison he was puzzled by their wings but now that they were in space, it all made sense. Shiro soared above him, his black and white speckled wings stretched out to either side of him. Unlike usual, he looked completely relaxed as the air blew through his fringe.

He dodged neatly to the side when Keith shot up from underneath him, trying to knock him off course. They laughed and circled each other in mock fight formation. The red, yellow, and orange wing beat wildly trying to make up for the sheer size that Shiro’s wings had over his own. He laid his head on his arms to look over the side of the nest when they fell into a nosedive towards the floor.

Hunk and Pidge both shriek and dove out of the way, Hunk’s chocolate brown and golden wing instinctually covered Pidge even though they were already standing on the ground. She huffed and pushed the limb off as Hunk gave sheepish apologies. She only gave him a fond grin but looked up at Shiro and Keith with an annoyed glare, which they didn’t notice as they were still chasing each other around the hanger. Her emerald green wings snapped up and she gave chase, surprising the two at her speed. Hunk laughed and gave a powerful beat and was gliding alongside the others. Lance looked on with a smile, he loved seeing his friends fly. They were able to forget about where they were and what they were meant to do and just became kids again.

‘Maybe it’s time to tell them the truth,’ Lance thought with a small frown. It had been months since they came to the Castle and they had undoubtedly bonded as not only a team but closer to a family. He heard the sound of soft flapping and looked behind him to see his team with ruffled feathers and carefree smiles on their faces.

‘No time like the present, I guess,’ he turned to them with a smile.

“How come you didn’t join us?” Shiro asked curiously trying to stroke his feathers into place. Lance looked down with a nervous gulp and started wringing his hands together.

“I was actually thinking of that right now,” he said. Looking up he saw that he had every paladin’s attention. He pressed his hands together to try and stop them from trembling.

“What is it?” Hunk asked. His forehead was creased in worry as he looked at his best friend. Not even he had seen Lance’s wings and he had known him the longest out of everyone. Not by much, they met the first year of the Garrison but still.

“I-um,” he mumbled trying to work up the courage. It wasn’t supposed to be this hard, he trusted them and he wanted them to know.

“It’s okay Lance, we’ll understand,” Shiro said encouragingly with a small grin on his face.

“I- I’m wingless,” he finally blurted out.

‘Shit,’ he thought. He cautiously looked up at his teammates and almost cringed at the pity that was plan on their faces. They all rushed forward, engulfing him in a hug and began chirping and cooing at him in comfort. He sighed into the group and after a while ducked down out of it. Although being wingless wasn’t uncommon, they still felt guilty that they had been flying around carelessly while he was grounded.

“Lance… I am so sorry,” Shiro said after a moment of silence. The others nodded in agreement looking heartbroken at Lance. He gave them a single shrug and slightly turned away from them.

“It’s alright I guess, I’ve lived with it my entire life,” he stated softly. He walked to the edge of the nest and made to get out.

“Where are you going?” Keith asked. Lance turned to them and gestured to the door at ground floor.

“I’m pretty beat, I’m going to crash for the night,” he replied with a shrug.

“You could sleep up here,” Pidge suggested looking at the rest of the team. They nodded and looked at Lance with hope. He bit his lip and looked away.

“I would but I, uh, have to shower and do a face mask and stuff still,” Lance replied shooting finger guns at them to their disappointment. He felt guilty as their wings drooped slightly.

“Maybe if I’m not too tired I’ll come back after I’m done,” he sighed. They immediately perked up again with a smile. He headed for the ladder attached to the beam and shrieked in surprise when arms lifted him up and began descending to the ground. He glanced up and saw Shiro grinning down at him. He gently placed him on the ground and ruffled his hair.

“I hope I see you later,” he said before taking off again back up to the nest. He nodded even though he knew that Shiro couldn’t see him and trudged out of the hanger.

“What the hell is wrong with me?” Lance growled at himself as he turned the water in the shower on. He paced in front of the mirror and wrung his hands together in agitation.

“Wingless?! Really?” He groaned dragging his hands down his face. He faced the shower and grasped the hem of his shirt and carefully peeled it over his head. He carefully unwrapped the bandages wrapped around his torso and let the cloth slide down his feathers. He sighed and ran his fingers through the dull blue feathers and looked in the mirror. He winced as the ache in his joints when he lifted and flexed the four wings on his back.

Not two.

Four.

As far as he knew he was only the third person to ever have four wings. The first he came to find, told the world of his condition believing himself to be descended from a god. Ultimately he was captured by the government and experimented on to find out more about his mutation. The second was a newborn girl who was taken away from her mother the minute she was born.

She didn’t make it to her second birthday.

The government dubbed anyone with four wings as a rowan.They found that that the wings were far more durable than normal wings almost as strong as a military grade armour. When they seemed threatened they turned into sharp and hardened like steel, it rendered them incapable of flight but the feathers were razor sharp. This is what made the government so wary of rowans. That and the fact that the first subject immediately attacked them after he transformed his wings this way. However, it was after months and months of merciless experimentation.

Lance was lucky and blessed to have been born to a very large and loyal family. He had his mother and registered midwife of an Aunt to thank for being born in the family home instead of in the hospital. He was registered as being wingless from the moment he was born and grew up being carefully monitored and maintained his whole life. Not that he minded much, he knew the danger he could potentially face if he was ever found out.

They couldn’t keep him locked away for long and relented when he decided to apply to the Garrison. Thanks to his distantly related Uncle who worked as a medical examiner he was able to get in and confirmed as wingless. He may have been lying to the government but hey, they lie all the time and no one gives them shit about it.

He knew that he could potentially be in a lot of danger for doing this but it felt like something that he needed to do. Maybe one day, he would become a famous explorer and he could become an advocator for rowans, just like him. That is if there were people like him on Earth. He looked mournfully at his tangled and muted feathers and wanted nothing more to soar through the air with his new family but he wasn’t sure what they would do. They were all still members of the military and were constantly briefed on what to do if they ever encountered a rowan in the field. He missed feeling the wind in his feathers though, he hadn’t had the chance to fly since he joined the Garrison.

He sighed and climbed into the shower letting the warm water wash away his thoughts. He couldn’t exactly go back to the nest tonight and tell everyone that he wasn’t wingless but actually a rowan. It would be too much for them to process. He would just have to wait a little bit longer until he knew for sure what they thought of him. He smiled at his plan and decided that it was the best course of action for now. If only to make himself feel more comfortable with the situation. After a half hour, he got out of the shower and attempted to dry off. He shook his feathers slightly trying to rid them of water but stopped when they started to sting from overuse. He sighed and locked his door in case anyone tried to get him in the middle of the night, he would have to leave them uncovered to dry properly and wrap them again in the morning. He carefully laid on his stomach and propped his head up to look at the door. Deep down he wished one of his teammates would come and ask if he was going to join them but he knew that they would be busy enough grooming each other’s wings to worry about him.

Usually recon missions went very well for them, all things considered. When your bones were light enough to step without making noises and were able to quickly fly out of a galran’s visual range, it was quite hard to detect them. Because of this they usually didn’t have a contingency plan prepared if something went awry.

“We’re pinned, Shiro!” Keith yelled into the coms. The sound of Keith’s bayard slicing and shots from Hunk’s cannon were loud in the background.

“Everyone head to Hunk and Keith’s location if you’re able,” Shiro commanded.

“Roger,” Lance said in response, he turned from his own defeated sentries and headed towards their position. They were lucky that this particular outpost was occupied only by sentries and drones as it had been abandoned by the Galra a long time ago.

“I’m close guys,” he heard Pidge say. Looking at the schematics of the base, he could see that Shiro made it to them and Pidge was heading down the corridor to join them, making Lance the furthest away. He sighed when he noticed that they had been corralled in what looked to be a sealed storage hanger and the only exit was the way they went in. He gritted his teeth and leaned forward into a full sprint determined to help his teammates. He could hear their laboured breathing and pain grunts as they took hits from the sentries.

“There’s too many of them!” Pidge yelled out in panic. He darted around the corner clutching his bayard tightly in his hands. The minutes felt like hours as he rushed through the halls, the sound of his teams panicked yells and shouts of pain. He froze when he saw the state that his team was fighting in. It almost felt like he was watching the scene in slow motion. Pidge’s foot being grabbed as she tried in vain to fly away and being slammed into the ground. Hunk trying desperately to shoot away the sentries but being tackled mid shot. Keith swinging his sword wildly and the look of surprise when he was punched in the jaw; and Shiro, oh Shiro. He was already on the ground and was absolutely covered in them, he swung his arm taking out sentries left and right but he was still trying to drag himself over to protect the others.

It only took a split second for Lance to take all of it in and begin storming towards the opening. Without thought, he banished his bayard away from him and began running towards the entrance. There must have been almost one hundred sentries activated, maybe more but he wasn’t about to falter.

“Lance! Run!” Shiro shouted when he noticed the paladin coming closer to the battle. At his voice, the sentries turned their attention to the newly arriving human. The marks on their body gave an ominous red glow as they began running at Lance. The others began struggling anew, wanting desperately to help their friend. The one they thought would be more helpless than them because he was wingless.

“Lance!” They screamed out in terror for him. Their eyes widened in shock when the back of his armour shattered and metallic looking wings burst out. He twisted around with the wings pushed out. They sliced clean through the first line of robots. They watched in shocked awe as Lance twirled around with his wings spread, destroying sentries in a deathly dance. As the last one fell he faced away from them, his wings lifted.

“Rowan,” Pidge breathed out in shock. The wings dropped in realization and Lance looked over his shoulder at them.

“I’m sorry,” is all he said before he ran away from them. They leapt up ready to follow close behind him but Shiro held out his hand for them to stop. They looked at him in confusion.

“We need to give him a little time, just enough for him to settle,” he said. They reluctantly agreed and walked out of the hanger.

After exiting their lions, they decided that they had to look for Lance. It wasn’t that difficult since they found his abandoned chest plate near the rafter ladder. They landed in the nest and saw Lance huddled in a ball at the other side of the nest. Without the metallic sheen on Lance’s feathers, they could see how lifeless and messy the wings really were.

Without a word, they all cuddled up against Lance. Shiro and Hunk on each side and Keith and Pidge in front of him. They didn’t need to say anything to him, and they didn’t need his explanation. They already understood why he was afraid to tell them. They could feel Lance begin to tremble between them and start to let out small sobs between breaths. Hunk gave a small smile and cradled Lance’s head against his shoulder. After an hour of silent comforting, Shiro laid a hand on Lance’s wing and carefully folded it out over his lap. Lance abandoned Hunk’s shoulder to look at him in confusion. Shiro grinned at him and began brushing his hand through his feathers, gently untangling them.

“You don’t have to Shiro,” Lance mumbled.

“I want to Lance,” He replied grabbing Lance’s cheek in his palm. “Let me do this for you,”

“I want to too,” Hunk said excited and carefully draped his other top wing onto his lap. Lance’s head whipped to Hunk’s side again in shock.

“No arguments either,” he said when he saw Lance begin to open his mouth. He gave Hunk a pout but obeyed.

“Me too,” Pidge grinned reaching for his lower wings. He didn’t even try to put up a fight this time, even when Keith mumbled something and got to work on the last one.

“Thank you,” he said gratefully. He rested his chin on his folded arms as he leaned on the edge of the nest. He wasn’t sure if he could look at any of them without bursting into tears, so he looked down at where he could see Blue instead.

“Maybe after this, we can go flying?” Pidge suggested. The rest of the paladins nodded their heads but this time they all turned to Lance as well. At their silence, he turned just enough to see them.

“Um, I haven’t exactly flown since I joined the Garrison,” he stated sheepishly.

“Well, then it’s about time you stretched your wings then isn’t it?” Hunk smiled.

“I guess it is,” he smiled back after a moment’s hesitation. Everyone gave a small cheer and got back to their jobs. Just as careful as before but now with a sense of urgency. Lance beamed down at Blue, feeling absolute love for and from the people around him. He couldn’t be any more lucky and blessed than he was right now.

Stories Masterlist