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violetswritingg · 16 days

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Only in Darkness

Jason Todd X OFC!

Description:

"Only in Darkness can you see the stars."

Marlowe Knight stumbling upon a girl prophesied to end the world and going on the adventure of a life time.

Rating: M (Blood, cannon typical violence, sibling rivalry, scars, torture, trauma, angsttttt)

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Gotham City, New Jersey

November, 2017

Heavy footfalls filled the long hallway of Wayne Manor, well-worn high tops slapping on the carpet on top of hard wood. The laces sloppily tied and swinging about, threatening to come undone at the slightest tug.

The owner of the shoes carrying a dark cloud over his head as he trudged on. His lips curled down in a scowl, muttering obscenities under his breath, a couple faint dots of crimson painting his cheek from his activities earlier in the night.

"Jason!" The light voice of his newfound training partner ringing out with hurried, jogging footsteps.

"I don't wanna hear it Marley." The nickname let the girl know he wasn't angry with her, but her shoulders were tense as she caught up and surpassed his pace. Whirling in front of him and holding out a hand in front of her, her fingers just brushing his shoulder.

"Where are you going?" Marlowe worried, her brows cramming together in the middle of her forehead.

"Anywhere but here." Jason ground out, Marlowe sighing heavily in response, "What? Are you gonna lecture me too? Please, tell me everything I did wrong tonight." Jason's biting sarcasm hurt the girl, who thought they had come farther than that in their relationship, but she didn't let it show. Her jaw clenching, eyes flashing with annoyance.

"I'm sure Bruce already covered everything." Her tone wasn't unkind but Jason could tell she wasn't happy with him. Bruce was enough for him tonight; he didn't need to hear how disappointed she was in him too. He just wanted to leave, but she wasn't letting him. His hands started to twitch, missing the feel of his switch blade he used to carry on the streets, hidden in any pocket he had and ready to be whipped out in a moments notice. The switch blade he had to use one too many times when someone tried to steal his stuff when he slept.

Marlowe breathed out and dropped her hand, letting Jason pass, but keeping pace with him down the hallway and into the foyer.

"What are you doing?" Jason questioned harshly, his exhaustion betraying him and showing itself in his stance.

"Tagging along.... If that's okay?" Marlowe tried, softening at seeing his shoulders slump. The warm lights of the manor illuminating the way his eyes flickered with something dark and intangible to anyone who hadn't been through the kinds of things they had been.

"....Fine." Jason sighed, shaking his head as he gave in. Knowing that if Marlowe cared enough, she would just follow him in the shadows, something she was getting better at thanks to Bruce's teachings. They hadn't known each other long, but they considered each other allies at worst and friends at best. The boy reached across Marlowe to the closet by the door and grabbed a coat, all but shoving it at Marlowe before stepping through the doorway, "Keep up."

Marlowe smiled at the jacket in her hands, the smooth leather motorcycle jacket soft in her hands.

"Wait up!" Marlowe rushed to slide her arms through the sleeves and jog after Jason, closing the door behind her with a quiet thud.

In the cave, Bruce, still in his suit minus the cowl, watched the crystal clear camera feeds he had set up early in his Batman career around the city. Alfred's footsteps, with an extra click of his cane, ringing down the metal staircase and filling the air of the cave.

"Master Jason and Miss Knight have left the building." Bruce only acknowledged his long time friend and family member by getting up and offering him his chair.

"They'll be back."

"I just thought you'd like to know the goings on of our two young guests. Miss Knight especially, since you did promise Jack you'd look out for her, let her be a normal teenager." With his last few words, the butler sat and sent Bruce a meaningful look, the man's jaw twitching as he shifted a millimeter. Subtle movements nobody but the people closest to Bruce learned to look for.

"She's a fighter, always has been. It's not in her nature to just sit back and do nothing, Jack has good intentions but he's blinded by his emotions. Always has been. What she needs is training, and to not be treated like a flower that could wilt at any second." Bruce gruffed, standing to his full height, shoulders back. Offering Alfred a hand up.

"Oh, is Gotham safe for the night?" Alfred quipped, taking the help. Bruce smiled, just a little bit, a softer amusement dancing across his face.

"It's Gotham. Things could be worse."

"I've never heard a truer statement."

Bruce was right, things could be worse. In Gotham, in Opal city, he just didn't know how bad they would get in the coming months. The horrors that would come to pass and darken Marlowe's soul even further, turning her from the light she had fought so hard to get back after Kyle went rogue. Bruce was right.

Things could be worse.

~~*~~

Washington, District of Columbia

2018

There was a clear division in the group as they regrouped by the cars. All the members of the party dressed back into civilian clothes and loading up their cars with their equipment. Dick shoving his case into his hood trunk with a vengeance, feeling hot guilt climbing up his throat, making it hard to breathe.

"I don't remember Robin being so..." Marlowe trailed off as she watched Dick move from across the space the man had put between them.

"That makes two of us." Hank muttered under her breath, Marlowe glancing his way, the cogs in her head turning.

Soft footfalls alerted Dick that he wasn't alone anymore, he couldn't find it in himself to actually turn around and look whoever it was in the face though.

"Junior Olympics, May, 2015," Marlowe's voice drifted the space between them in the alley, "They were held in Gotham, who the hell knows why, but they were. I had just finished my bar routine that landed me a spot in Olympic trials. Perfect score. Not a second after I landed my dismount, the windows in the convention center exploded. Glass went everywhere. Gas, green gas started to fill the room, screaming – laughter. I, and all of my teammates had no idea what the fuck was happening, it was a shit show. In true Gotham fashion."

Dick slowly turned halfway, memories filling his head while Marlowe continued, "I was in shock, I didn't know I had been separated from my coach or my team until I was getting trampled by the crowd pushing to get out. I thought I was gonna die, that was a scary thought back then...." Dick fully turned, intense eyes watching the girl in front of him look down and kick at the ground. Finding her words once again Marlowe wet her lips and started, "And then.... A hand pulled me out. You. Well, Robin."

Marlowe chuckled halfheartedly, "I can barely really remember what happened after that or how I got out, I think I hit my head. But... I do remember watching you fight off a couple of Joker's men as you tried to get me outside. Get me to safety. It wasn't like that...." She gestured to the warehouse with her head. Eyes finally coming up to meet Dick's.

Shifting on his feet Dick was the one who looked away this time, Marlowe moved on quickly, seeing all that she needed to see, "Didn't even know I had a shard about yay big," She held up her pointer finger and thumb roughly one and a half inches apart in the air, "Imbedded into my leg until I got checked out by the medics outside. I still have the scar."

"Sounds painful."

"I couldn't even feel it." Marlowe chuckled shaking her head. Dick smiled slightly at his feet, glancing up at her through his eyelashes like a dog waiting to be kicked before going back to righting his case. Trying to keep himself busy.

"Adrenaline is nice that way."

"You're not wrong." Marlowe noticed Dawn motioning for her and took the out, nodding in that direction before looking to Dick's turned back once again, "I'll see you back at the apartment."

Dick tried to be slick as he watched Marlowe get into the car with Hank and Dawn, a smirk forming over her face as she no doubt made fun of Hank from the backseat. The man biting back, softer than if he would if he was actually mad.

Dick unable to keep the small smile off his face, even though it didn't really meet his eyes. Knowing that he was doing the right thing in his mind but the bubbling guilt only choking him even more.

~~*~~

The tense atmosphere didn't dissipate when they made it back to the apartment, Dawn and Hank leading the way to their door with Marlowe in between them and Dick. Dawn, Dick, and Marlowe bunched together behind Hank as he unlocked the door, Marlowe uncomfortably stuck in between the brunette and the platinum blonde.

"You weren't kidding about having changed. I've never seen you like that before." Dawn didn't wait for a response as she followed Hank into their apartment. The door creaking, giving way to the dim light inside the living space. Marlowe glanced Dick's way before entering behind the owners, calling out for Rachel, not immediately seeing the girl. No response led to Dick doing the same as he entered the premises. Again no response.

Blood covered gloves and glassy coffee brown eyes invading her mind and making it particularly hard to breathe.

"I'll check the bathroom," Marlowe didn't wait for a response before she was off and looking for the teen girl she had silently taken responsibility for. Her heart found a home in her throat and she all but tore apart the apartment, Dick's voice carrying down the staircase leading to the roof and through the open door of the apartment a saving grace. Marlowe ran up and all but burst through the door.

"What the fuck Rach? I was worried, I thought something bad had happened." Marlowe rushed up to the girl, taking up the spot next to her opposite Dick. Rachel grabbed onto Marlowe's hand by her side, confusing the older girl but Marlowe let it happen. Confusion plaguing the blonde when Rachel ripped her hand away as if she had just been burned.

"You knew." The betrayal in Rachel's eyes set off Marlowe's fight or flight.

"My sister told me she'd always have my back no matter what. You're just like him you know? Always fucking lying."

"What are you talking about?" It was only then that Marlowe saw the stuffed envelope in Rachel's hands and came to a conclusion she really hoped was wrong. With her luck though, the worst case scenario would happen and somehow get even worse.

"You were gonna leave me here. You said you weren't but you lied. And you knew." Rachel was calm, icy, directing her words to the bird cage in front of her. Ignoring both Dick and Marlowe. Marlowe swallowing thickly, and avoiding Dick's eyes, trying to connect with Rachel again.

"Rachel-"

"You must lie a lot, you're good at it." Marlowe didn't know who that was directed to but felt the punch behind the words in her stomach. Rachel glanced at Marlowe for a split second as she played with the envelope, "I thought I could trust you."

"Rachel-" Marlowe was interrupted again by Hank and Dawn coming through the rooftop door, the blonde huffing in annoyance, a buzzing building under her skin and tying her stomach in knots.

"What is she talking about?"

Rachel walked to meet the couple and handed them the envelope, Marlowe shooting a glare at Dick and following the girl, Dick two steps behind her.

"Rachel, I wasn't going to lea-"

"Hank don't read that-"

"It's got my name on it," As Hank opened the envelope and skimmed it's contents Marlowe tried to connect with the Rachel, reaching out for her hand but Rachel didn't care for the contact. The older girl getting the message and taking the hit. Stepping back and giving the girl space, pacing away as she dragged a hand across her mouth. The buzzing under her skin getting worse. "What the fuck?"

"You were gonna leave them here? You were gonna pay us?" Rachel, done with it all went back to the bird cage, Marlowe tracking her with her eyes. Not missing the 'them' but not really caring. She would have taken Rachel with her, away from Washington DC, away from it all. Made sure she was safe, probably in Opal with Hailey, Rick, and her dad – where she would be surrounded by good people who would keep her safe, and then get back to her original mission.

"It's not that simple."

Marlowe scoffed on instinct, running a hand through her hair. Hank read from the letter sounding like glass shards on chalk board. Her blood was boiling. Her skin buzzing as if caffeine had inlaid into her cells. Heart beat elevated under her sternum, threatening to bust out of it's skeletal prison.

"My sister told me she'd always have my back no matter what. You're just like him you know? Always fucking lying."

Marlowe, like the others, was too caught up in what was happening to hear the rooftop door open and close. And Also like the other's was snapped out of the situation as the saccharine voice called out a robotic greeting.

"Well, hello there you five."

~~*~~

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bersergner-blog · 1 year

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Practice 1_1.2 - Gathering Inspiration

A few inspirations instantly sprung to mind.

For Composition: Daniel Warren Punisher, Hotline Miami, Patrick Brown, John Woo gunfight chaos

DANIEL WARREN JOHNSON (2017). [Online] Available at: https://twitter.com/danielwarrenart/status/946796548754759685/photo/1

PATRICK BROWN (2020). [Online] Available at: https://www.joblo.com/awesome-artists-weve-found-around-the-net-patrick-brown/

For Colours: Hotline Miami, David Hartman, Seung Eun Kim (Palette)

SEUNG EUN KIM (2021). [Online] Available at: https://www.artstation.com/artwork/4X9Lv1

TWITTER (2020). [2020]. [Online] Available at: https://twitter.com/HotlineMiami/status/1272216295799500802/photo/1

For Character: Tetsuo (Akira), Akira (Rival Schools)

PXFUEL. [Online] Available at: https://www.pxfuel.com/en/desktop-wallpaper-tilqo

FIGHTERS GENERATION. [Online] Available at: https://fightersgeneration.com/np7/char/akira-project.png

Moodboards

A collage of images I used for inspiration.

References Bergner, E.B. [Sketches] 8TRACKS. [Online] Available at: https://8tracks.com/deluxeturbopuns/collections/dorohedoro AMAZON. [Online] Available at: https://m.media-amazon.com/images/I/61SpYj+V3iL.AC_UF894,1000_QL80.jpg PINTEREST. [Online] Available at: https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/2251868551208392/ MADABOUTHORROR. [Online] Available at: https://madabouthorror.co.uk/product/scream-greats-killer-klowns-from-outer-space-fatso-8-figure-pre-order/ MERRIAM-WEBSTER. [Online] Available at: https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/harlequin ARGOS. [Online] Available at: https://www.argos.co.uk/product/3334807 ALEXIS RIVES. [Online] Available at: https://www.artstation.com/artwork/g0GLRQ WIKIMEDIA. [Online] Available at: https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/c/ce/Neon_White_cover_art.jpg PINTEREST. [Online] Available at: https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/winter-outfit-idea-a-really-big-jacket-and-cool-sneakers--354377064430711535/ MOTOLEGENDS. (2022). [Online] Available at: https://www.motolegends.com/reviews/Motorcycle-leather-suit-vs-textile-suit-Which-is-best PINTEREST. [Online] Available at: https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/372461831680449765/ DUPONT. [Online] Available at: https://www.dupont.com/fabrics-fibers-and-nonwovens/motorcycle-gear.html ETSY. [Online] Available at: https://www.etsy.com/uk/listing/953397913/leather-deadpool-cosplay-costume PLAY-ASIA. [Online] Available at: https://www.play-asia.com/figma-durarara-x2-celty-sturluson/13/70ajpn DURARARA.FANDOM. [Online] Available at: https://durarara.fandom.com/wiki/Celty_Sturluson?file=Celty_character_sheet.png SLASHFILM. [Online] Available at: https://www.slashfilm.com/802551/akiras-motorcycles-came-straight-out-of-another-sci-fi-classic/ PINTEREST. [Online] Available at: https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/super-glossy-black-giant-puffer-coat--633389135100281974/ PATRICK BROWN. (2015). [Online] Available at: https://www.deviantart.com/patrickbrown/art/Deadpool-576146472 TWITTER (2013). [Online] Available at: https://twitter.com/HotlineMiami/status/305451269072490497 FILM SCHOOL REJECTS. [Online] Available at: https://filmschoolrejects.com/john-woo-action/ TRIPOD. [Online] Available at: https://fabkid.tripod.com/wootrade.html PINTEREST. [Online] Available at: https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/oni-mask-lol-video-game-8x10-craft-sewing-cotton-fabric-block--434386326571351037/

#concept art #character concept #digital art #digital illustration #art references #drawing references

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motorcycleleathersuit · 5 years

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leathercollectionus · 5 years

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Womens leather motorcycle jacket

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misedejem · 4 years

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I wrote 75 headcanons about Kannao

25 for Kanji, 25 for Naoto, 25 for them as a couple

Why?

Why not.

Kanji Tatsumi

1. He does actually need glasses, but he was hesitant to ask for contacts, so he spent most of P4 struggling to see until Naoto brought up that he looked like he was having a hard time. He wore contacts for a bit, but eventually he just stuck to glasses.

2. The scar on his head was a source of speculation for the other members of the Investigation Team for years, because he never cared to explain, resulting in some very wacky theories. Eventually they found out it was just from a fight with a gang member, but considering he got it when he was twelve, the story is still pretty interesting.

3. He hates mentioning medical stuff to anybody, but he’s prone to fainting spells out of nowhere. Thankfully, it never happened in the TV, which several members of the IT very angrily said to him when he blacked out in front of them one day.

4. He’s the spitting image of his father, only with shorter hair. He could never let it grow out for that reason.

5. He’s the only one from the Investigation Team B to go to college. He studies textiles and trains to become a teacher in Tokyo. He ends up being an art teacher at a middle school.

6. He’s actually pretty good at literature and humanities subjects, though he struggles applying those skills in a school setting until a teacher who hasn’t given up on him yet helps him through them.

7. Rise forced him to take dance classes the minute he moved to the city because he was ‘super good at it dammit’. Ditto the drums. He can sing too, but she’s not allowed to know that.

8. He actually just tends to go along with Rise’s plans a lot, partially because he knows her well enough to know stopping her is futile, and also because she understands his tastes very well once she learns what they are

9. He doesn’t dislike the way he used to dress in high school, but it wasn’t quite him. It needed more cuteness, and softer colours, which is how he started to dress once he graduated high school.

10. The black hair and glasses stay forever, but when he’s sewing, he still wears his hair pushed back. Yukiko gave him a hairband for it when she noticed him growing slowly more irritated with it getting in his eyes.

11. As well as his nose and ears, he also gets an eyebrow piercing in college.

12. He manages to make a small group of friends in college, with his course being the perfect way for him to find likeminded individuals who applaud his skills rather than shunning them

13. Kanji is the best cook in the Investigation Team. His baking skills, especially, are exemplary.

14. He has an online, worldwide store where he sells his plushies and the occasional drawing and outfit. He’s semi-fluent in English by the time he graduates college, so when Naoto travels abroad sometimes he goes too and hits up the conventions.

15. Ann is his go-to model once they meet. He helps her with outfits for a college final once and they work together so well that she sticks with him.

16. The reason Koromaru dislikes him is that he can tell he’s kinda rough with physical affection. He doesn’t realise it for the longest time because nobody points it out. He is really good with animals otherwise though, and he’s also really good with kids.

17. He’s a back-up fighter for the Shadow Ops should they need him, by virtue of being married to their resident detective.

18. The main reason he keeps training his body though is actually because Chie is determined to beat him at arm wrestling one day, and he’s too proud to let anyone win without a fight.

19. When Naoto’s cat, Mochi, had kittens, he got to name the one they kept. His name is Pocky. He has a little leather jacket that Kanji painstakingly crafted one night when he couldn’t sleep.

20. He needs a lot of alcohol to get drunk (which makes nights out with the IT interesting for him, given that the others are all serious lightweights)

21. If you give him a life sim, especially that one with the cute animals, you will not see him again for days at a time. He’s not huge on video games, but life sims will take over his life

22. Even if he does retreat into a cave to build a pristine village though, he will still probably emerge with a smooth face because he doesn’t grow facial hair very easily. He can, but it takes a while.

23. He can’t sleep as easily unless he’s holding something soft.

24. The easiest time to get him to speak his mind about certain things is when he’s sick and more vulnerable, which doesn’t happen very often. For example, the IT had no idea their jokes at his expense bothered him until he confessed it while extremely out of it on cold medication one time. He doesn’t remember saying it either, but he did notice they were more sincere with him after that.

25. Everybody in the Investigation Team ends up facing their Shadow again in their adulthood, but by the time Shadow Kanji returns, Kanji has become so accepting of the self the Shadow had represented in the past that he takes on a completely different form. Naoto is the only other person with this same experience.

Naoto Shirogane:

1. By the time they stop growing, Naoto is nearly 5’1” and they absolutely make it a point to let their friends know

2. They don’t really know how to look after their hair at all, hence the cap and general messiness. They tend to forget about it until it becomes too long and gets all tangled.

3. They’re very accident prone, and are covered in a lot of scars from their childhood. The worst one though is one on their back from that time Sho stabbed them at Junes.

4. One of said scars came from their neighbours’ huge dog biting them when they were five. To this day, they’re still absolutely terrified of big dogs.

5. They’ve experienced panic attacks for most of their life, though they occur less frequently as an adult.

6. They resemble their mother more than their father, but the height comes from the Shirogane side. Grampa Shirogane was quite small as well.

7. They are the only member of the Investigation Team who can tolerate Rise’s cooking. The others suspect potential spice immunity.

8. As well as piano and ballroom dance, they were also trained in a choir as a child, but fell out of favour with it in their teens. The Velvet Siblings hold a final Theatre Showdown with their guests in 2019, and this is when Naoto fully rediscovers their musical side again.

9. If you ask Naoto how much those specially tailor-made clothes cost, they will mumble and then change the subject

10. Naoto returns to Yasogami as a full-time student in third year after Mitsuru enrols Labrys in the school out of nowhere, intent on investigating her motives.

11. They hold the school’s record for highest graded paper for decades. It was on Sherlock Holmes.

12. Naoto has written a lot of Sherlock Holmes fanfiction as a kid. The others are aware this exists, but are not allowed to read it.

13. They don’t attend college after graduation, but don’t have much time to figure out what they will do. The mental shutdown incidents begin the same year, and Naoto decided to help the Shadow Operatives with it as much as possible.

14. Naoto hates the title ‘detective prince’, and actively tries to shed it. Akechi was a godsend in that light.

15. They actually hate the media’s attention in general but figured that they may as well use the platform they have for a good cause. They want to be the kind of person they needed to see on TV as a kid, but they very vocally opposed the ‘detective prince’ crap until it ended – which it did quite abruptly when the truth about Akechi came out.

16. Much of what Goro Akechi likes, he got from Naoto’s indirect influence, from the way he dresses to knowledge of that jazz club in Kichijoji. They’re more of a regular there than he is.

17. Rise set them up on social media, but they don’t really get how to use it. Their fans discovered it though, so they still have a fair number of followers.

18. Naoto has a slight friendly rivalry with the people who run a local escape room place. Their goal as a company is to one day leave Naoto stumped.

19. Naoto doesn’t actually like coffee. Too bitter. Tea is their go-to.

20. They got a standard-size motorcycle at eighteen but doesn’t drive a car. Yakushiji and Kanji refuse to let them behind the wheel.

21. After becoming comfortable with their childish side once again, they became openly enamoured once more with Neo Featherman, and have a lot of very expensive figures on display in their house. They even cosplayed at a convention once with some of Kanji’s college friends (though it was difficult to convince them to do it)

22. Yosuke was paid back all the money the IT owed him shortly after Naoto joined the team and discovered they were mooching from him. Yosuke doesn’t know for certain where it came from.

23. They adopted a kitten they named Mochi in 2017, who they found abandoned outside a supermarket (in an old box that had contained a shipment of mochi, hence the name). She’s an orange tabby, and she became something of a comfort animal when Naoto was at their lowest.

24. Their grandfather died from an illness in early February 2017. They didn’t handle his loss well, and they ended up falling into a depression that they never really came out of, though they weren’t able to admit that they weren’t okay. It was an encounter with their Shadow that eventually led to them seeking help.

25. While they’re still a Private Detective in theory, most of the work they do following the events of P5 are Shadow-related. The Shirogane Agency became one of the Shadow Operatives’ closest allies. Makoto Niijima is currently doing an internship there (they met after the Phantom Thieves helped the SOs deal with another incident in Tokyo in 2018)

Kannao

1. Naoto ‘came down with a fever’ around the time of the Love Meets Bonds festival that had absolutely nothing to do with their friend Kanji suddenly seeming way cooler than before.

2. The ‘fever’ got worse when they started having classes together in school, and Naoto agreed to help Kanji with his college entrance exams.

3. At this point Kanji had kinda accepted his feelings existed, but were unrequited, and that he didn’t want that to interfere with their friendship. Naoto was one of the only people who really got him, and he didn’t want to lose them so soon after building a rapport with them. Little did he know.

4. Naoto was the first one to eventually confess, once Rise, Yu, Grampa, Nanako, several books and google searches, and a random stall vendor at the summer festival in their hometown had convinced them that the weird feeling in their chest wasn’t actually an illness. They did it in the summer of 2013, at said festival.

5. They were also the first one to say they were in love. The realisation hit them one day as they were watching Kanji play a cute life-simulator game in his college dorm.

6. While they’re no longer awkward around each other all the time, there are ways they can still make the other very flustered. For example, with Naoto, it’s any time Kanji is wearing a suit.

7. They got married at Christmas in 2019. Kanji had a proposal planned. Naoto misread the vibe and proposed early and spontaneously on the day he had planned to, though he still got to go ahead with his as well.

8. Kanji doesn’t really like PDA. They get a lot of people staring at them anyway because of how they look, or because Naoto is recognisable from the TV, and he doesn’t want to make the stares worse. In private though, he’s the more affectionate one.

9. Naoto accidentally fuelled the rumours that ‘Kanji Tatsumi is in a biker gang’ again when they first started dating by parking their motorcycle outside the textile shop. Ma Tatsumi was quick to tell anybody who questioned it that it belonged to her son’s significant other long before she was supposed to know they were dating

10. Kanji keeps forgetting to specify which number in his phone is for Naoto’s personal phone and which is for work, which has lead to such wonderful anecdotes as ‘I accidentally hired a private investigator to fix my broken car’

11. They’re both used to the other bolting upright in bed at 3am because they’ve had an idea for a new pair of socks for the cat, or another hypothesis for a case. Naoto also wakes up quite a bit due to nightmares.

12. They lived together with the rest of the Investigation Team since 2016, but they don’t get an apartment as just the two of them until the year they get married. It doesn’t take long before there is an entire room in that apartment filled from floor to ceiling with toys.

13. Kanji is much tidier and more organised than Naoto, even though Naoto isn’t bad, so he’s the one who figures out where things should go. Decorating the house is his favourite thing

14. They are the unparalleled board-game kings. Somehow, they’re an unstoppable force of nature when paired together for them.

15. Surprising everyone, Naoto is the more likely of the two to use pet names. They are the only person who won’t be threatened if they call him ‘Kan-chan’.

16. Before it became common knowledge amongst Naoto’s fanclub that Kanji was their boyfriend, they thought he was their bodyguard. (The Risette fandom had the same idea)

17. Kanji never helped that rumour die, considering that when the media tries to shove cameras into Naoto’s face, he yells obscenities and gets in the way until the footage is unusable.

18. They have a daughter in 2025, when Naoto is 30 and Kanji is 29. She’s named Chihiro, mostly because it’s like a phonetic portmanteau of Kanji’s father’s name (Koichi Tatsumi) and Naoto’s grandfather’s (Yasuhiro Shirogane). But also, that was the name of the actor who played Naoto’s favourite version of Feather Swan. Naoto isn’t creative enough to come up with a portmanteau.

19. They are each 80% of the other’s impulse control

20. Naoto couldn’t care less that Kanji isn’t the brightest, despite common misconception. The Shirogane family, and the people who work for it, always placed emphasis on a person’s intelligence (hence Yu’s requirement for a lot of knowledge to start the Fortune link) but Naoto is strongly opposed to that mindset. To them, it’s freeing to have somebody around who doesn’t want to be an intellectual 95% of the time.

21. They are very private when it comes to their relationship, to the point that sometimes even friends or colleagues have no idea what’s going on in their lives until it’s let slip somehow. When Junpei and Yukari – the Shadow Ops Naoto worked with the least - found out they were expecting, it first had to be explained to them that they’d been married for five years.

22. They sometimes get mistaken for father and son at restaurants until their early thirties, to which point Naoto will make a scene of ordering a lot of alcohol to prove they’re old enough. Naoto can’t really handle booze.

23. They’re really bad at making face to face announcements about anything big to their friends, so they always find some way to do it elaborately instead. They told the IT they were having a kid, for example, through a series of puzzles put together by Naoto

24. Kanji loves making couples costumes and outfits, but then gets too embarrassed to wear them

25. Naoto is a fiend for stealing Kanji’s clothes as pyjamas. They are large and warm, and when they’re travelling for work, they remind them of him. It got to the point where Kanji would pack a shirt of his secretly in Naoto’s suitcase, knowing that’s why his clothes always went missing.

#persona 4 #kanji tatsumi #naoto shirogane #kannao #headcanon

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markleesthighs · 5 years

Text

Black Mamba | Chapter 1

Pairings: reader x mark, reader x hendery, reader x jaehyun, feat. ot21

Genre: nct mafia!au, angst, fluff, light smut (suggestive), comical

Warnings: light swearing, mentions of death and blood

Words: 4.083k

【➀ ❷ ❸ ❹ ❺ ❻ ❼】

Chapter 1 - The Origin

Seoul, Korea, 2005

y/n Wang, you were a sweet 6-year-old enjoying your life. You knew you lived lavishly, but your parents made sure you weren’t spoiled, they still wanted you to work for what you wanted. You wanted a new toy? Get a 100 on your next 3 tests. They would only give you gifts during holidays and birthdays. You knew you were different, everyone looked at you weird that you had bodyguards pick you up from school, and kids in school would stray away from you. You didn’t know what your parents did for work, they told you they worked in a business that paid a lot of money. The only friend you really had was your older brother, who was 5 years older than you. He was a moody 11-year old tween and talked to you when he wasn’t in a bad mood. You also didn’t get much attention from your parents being due to being busy, so you spent most of your time studying or reading.

One night, however, it’s blurred in your mind, so you only remember certain aspects of that night. Your brother came into your room and woke you up saying he heard gunshots and came in to make sure you were okay. You started to hear gunshots and trembling, hugging your brother. Your dad had trained your brother how to hide and use a gun and knives at such a young age since he would inherit your father’s business when he’s older. Your brother would be in life-threatening situations and needed to defend himself. But in tradition, you were to be guarded and protected, just like your mother, marry off to someone around your age in another high-ranking business, and bear their children. Soon the gunshots and screaming died down, your brother slowly picked you up and hid you behind his back holding his gun fearlessly ready to shoot anyone ready to attack either of you. Your eyes were shut, and you were praying to not let you or your family die right at this moment. You both were walking slowly around the house, and you felt your brother slowly drop his gun and felt him crying, and he ran down the stairs. You opened your eyes to see your mom and dad on the floor in a giant pool of blood. You saw your brother crying next to their lifeless bodies, and you joined him crying that you couldn’t see anymore. A few of your dad’s friends (more like uncles to the both of you) found both of you and took you away from the sight. You overheard they were both assassinated and did now know they had children, if they did, they would have killed both of us. You and your brother hugged each other tight praying your lives will get better, and you both will live on beyond their death.

The following day it was their funeral, you saw all your uncles and aunties and a lot of tears. You and your brother held hands that whole day and never let go. However, that was the last time you two would be together. You woke up the next morning and found your brother gone to the house, you saw your room had been emptied except for a change of clothes. You held your pajamas as you found your brother and uncles at the bottom of the staircase discussing before they turned to you with some bodyguards carrying your luggage.

“What’s going on?”

“Your brother is going to inherit your father’s business.”

“Okay, but why are they holding my luggage.”

“That also means you have no relation with your father’s business anymore, and for your own safety, you will be sent away, change your name, and have no relation to the Wang family anymore.”

“But- why-“

“I’m sorry, but there is no time for questions y/n.”

You looked at your brother who looked at you sadly, and he hugged you for one last time before saying his goodbyes.

“Goodbye y/n, I will always love you.”

“I love you too big brother.”

Your uncles cried at the sight of this, but you trusted your brother, hoping you knew what he was doing.

Unfortunately, you lived in another family that neglected you but raised you just as hard as your parents. You were lucky to live with another lavish family, but they would not tolerate spoiled brats either. They also ignored you, and never gave you anything but what you needed. Which was a home, food, water, and a good education. They never gave you love, or care, that your parents at least attempted to do, which was mainly during holidays. During the holidays you spent them alone, and you had no sibling to cope with. You became a very lonely person, and at school, you were a loner, since no one wanted to be your friend anyway. But the thought of that night your parents died, the word assassin kept popping into your mind. You had become so heartless with no morals and a heart with no love.

Seoul, Korea, 2017

Now, you were 18, you’ve been getting nightmares about your birth parents, and they would not stop. They were so bad that your parents took you to a doctor to get drugs for your night terrors. But the idea of becoming an assassin floated through your head for the past 2 years, and you were considering doing it to get some money, now that you had to work. So, you moved you and your parents bought you a lovely modern high-security apartment for you to stay in. You decided to start working as an assassin. You studied up on their techniques, and mastered them, trained yourself jumping from building to building on Seoul skylines. You also got into contact with local weaponry stores, finding the best ones in the area. You also studied killing techniques with all different kinds of weapons, that you could even kill someone with a branch. You worked out and studied all hand to hand combat as well as poison and smoke gas methods. Your first kill was a security guard for a mafia gang in the city, worth ₩5,000,000. You studied the area for only 5 hours and determined the best time of the attack and what weaponry. After you successfully killed him, you felt nothing as you were raised with no love in your heart and lost all emotional connection to other humans. Your morality of the human race was gone. Your kills took about an hour tops, and you started to get recognized as a quick assassin, who knows how to get the job done. Soon, your prices rose as well as the targets, and you were overflowed with requests.

Seoul, Korea, 2018

You know had one of the best assassination businesses in the entire city, your parents didn’t care about what you did since they were too busy working and not bothering to care about you. You hired and trained several junior assassins who would take care of small assassinations for you and would stay in your apartment. But you only got out of the house for top assassinations, such as mafia leaders. You became known as the Crocodile, ready to kill anyone on command. One of your juniors came back to you with a letter, which was strange because you took your requests online rather than by letter. You opened the letter which reads:

“Hello, Crocodile,

I know this might be strange to be writing to you rather than by an email or online request, but I would like to offer a deal to you. As you are growing in popularity, I know you are growing in threats, as your killings have angered several mafias in the area. I also am aware that many have tracked down your location and have had several attempts in killing you and your peers. I can offer you and your peers’ safety, in exchange for you and your peers to work under me. If you are not interested, feel free to burn this paper. But, if you are intrigued and want to discuss more in detail, please contact me, and I will send you our location info

Sincerely,

~Mark Lee.”

“Hey, Aria, can you look up what group this ‘Mark Lee’ is in?”

“Ma'am, he’s in mafia NCT, one of the top male mafias in Seoul.”

“Male?”

“Yes, they are dominantly composed of male members.”

“Can you contact them, I would like to have a word with them.”

You sent a raven to their location stating the following:

“Mark Lee,

I am indeed in danger, numerous of my juniors and guards have been injured within the past month, but I have no intention of stopping my work. With much deliberation and thinking, I am considering your deal. Myself, and a few of my comrades will be attending to visit your base to further discuss other measures tomorrow night.

~Crocodile”

The next night you arrived at their base, which was a huge mansion, that reminded you of your childhood. You were dressed in ripped black jeans, a black turtleneck neck, and a black leather jacket. You still had your motorcycle helmet on, and you and your peers greeted the guards and verified your identity. You entered first noticing your peers would have to stay at the entrance. While an NCT mafia member led you to their meeting room. Two men tried to take your knives and shotguns hidden in your clothes, but you grabbed both of their wrists and flipped them, causing them to land hard on their backs. You saw who you assumed was Mark Lee and another man sitting next to him. He stood up and shook your hand to which you sat down across the desk from him while hearing his bodyguards slowly try to get up in pain.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Crocodile.”

“The pleasure is all mine.”

“I’m sorry, can you please take off your helmet? I couldn’t quite hear you clearly.”

“Of course.”

You took off your helmet, and your long hair fell out and cascaded down your back.

“A woman??” They all said.

“Yeah, do any of you have a problem with that?”

“N-no not at all…”

“I have tried to conceal my gender since yourself and others would not have taken my work seriously.”

“I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s not my fault it's yours.”

“Moving on to the matter at hand, I will now explain the deal in detail. This is Taeyong, my right-hand man who will be taking notes and reminding me for anything I forgot to mention. You and your junior assassins will be working under the NCT group, meaning Crocodile Assassins will no longer exist. You will all be offered our resources including high-class protection, weaponry storage, shooting ranges, food and drinks in the kitchen, accommodation to the whole mansion, access to the best technology, our bathhouses, research lab, connections and alliances with other mafias, and many other endeavors. You and your juniors will be treated just as the same as anyone else within the NCT group and I promise none of them will be harassed or ousted in our facility. They will all undergo the same training as our trainees, as we want them to be diverse in all fields of use and figure out what they excel at. Any questions?”

“What’s in it for me?”

“Since you are at a higher position than your juniors, we will put you in the executive position of interrogation?

“Interrogation?”

“Y-“

“You call the top assassin in the area only to put me in an interrogating position?”

“Our assassin department is already at its best, and your style of assassination is not favorable to our NCT policies. Crocodile Assassinations are known for being quick and messy, while here at NCT we pride our assassinations on mystery, stealth, and more slow-paced, to think out and cover up our tracks.”

“But what made you determine to put me in the interrogation department?”

“To be honest, we didn’t know what department we wanted to put you in, so right now we are going to test you to see if you fit.”

Mark and Taeyong stood up, and I followed them out of the room, glaring at the guards. We all walked to their interrogation rooms to which I saw a mirror-sided window and another person sitting at the table.

“This is Donghyuck, one of our youngest and talented men, who is impressively good at lying and bluffing information. All of our interrogators have not broken him, or have him admit to his crime.”

“What did he do.”

“He stole one of my watermelon juices.”

“…”

“What?”

“You brought me here just to have one of your men admit that they stole your watermelon juice??”

“Its a test, obviously, but in future, there will be criminals even harder to crack than himself, this department lacks a lot, and we need someone on board to help crack more people to get information. Recently, we’ve hit dead ends from our interrogators and have to rely on other departments.” “I see, I’ll give it a try.”

“We’ll leave you two alone, so you won’t feel pressured that you are being watched by us, the room is under surveillance and records everything, so do not worry about us not believing what he tells you.”

You entered the room to see Donghyuck surprised at your presence.

“The Crocodile? as in THE Crocodile, I-I’m a huge fan of your work.”

“I’m sorry to apologize that this isn’t a meet and greet, but an intervention.”

“For what?”

“You stole Mark’s watermelon juice, care to explain.”

“It's simple. I didn’t take it.”

For another 30 minutes it went on the constant denial of stolen watermelon juice, but then you turned to your last resort. Your father taught you a couple of short poems that you memorized by heart, and you noticed that each had its own effect on people. You looked through your mini book of poems and landed on the “All Seeing Eye” poem, and you mumbled it to yourself.

“I call upon the All Seeing Eye

able to detect the one who lies

to put an end to a crossfire

let them tell the truth to what I inquire.”

Your eyes glowed red with a ring a fire, and Donghyuck fell into your gaze, awaiting your questions.

“Did you steal Mark’s watermelon juice.”

“Yes”

“Why did you do it.”

“I was thirsty.”

After the lier told the truth the spell wears off, and you remember what happens, but the lier does not. Mark came in shortly after you were done.

“Congrats, you did it!”

“I knew I could.”

Donghyuck however, did not remember admitting anything. But Mark showed him the footage of him admitting it, you noticed that your eyes and spell, was not noticeable to cameras or the naked eye. You sighed in relief as no one knows about these poems or powers that you had. Afterward, you agreed to the deal offered by NCT after thinking about what would be best for yourself and your juniors. Then from that day on, you were part of the NCT mafia group, in the interrogation department.

Seoul, Korea, 2019

It had been about a year since you and your group had joined NCT, all of your juniors have been treated well and thank you almost every day for giving them this new life, safer, and more enjoyable. But you were not happy. However, now that people found out quickly, you were part of NCT and always got information out of people in the interrogation process, you developed a reputation as a horrifying interrogator. It got to the point where you never needed to say or do anything, and they would just tell you everything flat out. It got boring for you, so you had to tell Mark something. You had trained the department to be more efficient, so you know well they can still thrive and have improved since last year. You walked to Mark’s office and filed a complaint.

“You want to quit?”

“It’s BORING, Mark, I want a job where people don’t have to know me as the Crocodile and be intimidated by me, face to face.”

“But you are really good at it.”

“Does that mean its justified for my happiness? Just because I’m good at something doesn’t mean I’m happy doing it.”

Just as Mark was about to speak one of his men bursts in the room

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but the trainees shooting practice has been cut short. The executive weapons specialist has also gone trigger happy in the shooting range, and we have tackled him down and had him ready for your command to fire him.”

“Fire him and take me and Ms. y/l/n (your last name) down to the shooting range to see the damage Yuta.”

“Yes, sir.”

You all walked to the shooting range to see several bullets of different firearms that you recognized from machine guns to handguns. You also saw terrified trainees who looked at you in interest, since most of them have never actually seen you in person. It would not be a shock that they all started to whisper about you while you, Mark, and Yuta viewed the damage. Once Mark figured out everything he let Yuta continue teaching while you both watched. You noticed Yuta never taught them how to hold handguns and maneuver them, such as removing the safety, so half of them never shot when he commanded. You decided to help out. Teaching them how to load ammo and how to shoot the gun and fixing your stance. Mark noticed this that you knew a lot about weaponry, and decided to ask you about taking that position. Once you were done, Mark pulled you to the side, and you both walked to his office.

“So I was thinking….”

“Yeah”

“I think you are qualified and will be happy to hear that I want to move you as the executive weaponry specialist.”

“Really?”

“I know you will do well, and you seemed happy talking to Yuta about the handguns the trainees were using today.”

“Thank you.”

“I also thought since you don’t like to be known as the Crocodile anymore, you are part of NCT now.”

“And that is?”

“Black Mamba”

“Interesting. I like it”

Mark then led you down another hallway to an ominous lab where he gave the door fingerprint, eye, and facial scanner to open the door. It began to a simplistic, clean white lab filled with all types of guns, bombs, poison, ammo, traps, and all the weaponry in the world in this lab. Mark showed you where everything is, and you quickly memorized. Mark also tested your abilities giving you scenarios and if you could supply him with the best weaponry possible. You passed all of his tests and allowed you access to the lab. You and he were the only ones allowed in the lab. Soon after you noticed Mark coming to visit you more often on a daily basis. He told you it was for regular check-ups, but you started to warm up to Mark. Conversations about AK-47s turned into discussions about favorite tv shows and movies. He visited it you sometimes just to watch you, loading guns and designing new weapons, admiring you.

Valentine’s Day, Seoul, Korea, 2020

You hated this day, mainly because you thought it was a stupid holiday. But in the NCT base camp, everyone was still working just as hard, if not harder. No one in the company really had a relationship, and if they did, it was hidden from everyone else to ensure their safety. You were designing a new weapon when Mark came in a greeted you with a coffee (just the way you like it) and a croissant, as usual. You didn’t look at him when he came in since you were focused on designing a new gun for underwater missions. Mark peered over your shoulder.

“What are you doing?”

“Working”

Mark chuckled he you turned around to face him to which you notice he was holding something behind his back.

“Sit down.”

You sat down on your office chair and looked at Mark in curiosity

“I know you hate this holiday.”

“You know me well.”

“But I decided to get you something.”

Mark revealed to have a bouquet of flowers behind his back and showed them to you

“What are these for.”

“They are for you.”

“B-“

“y/n y/l/n will you be my Valentine?”

You burst out laughing, thinking it was a joke, but you saw the disappointment in Mark’s face, and he looked like he was about to cry. You did have feelings for Mark, but it was the first time you felt loved in a long time and was hesitant to tell Mark. You were unsure if Mark felt the same way or if you two were just friends.

“Oh! Mark….please don’t cry awww.” “You’re so mean.”

“Of course I’ll be your Valentine.”

Mark smiled and lifted you up, spinning you around and hugging you.

“But for future reference, no flowers, they die anyway.” “Okay, oh! I have one more thing to give you turn around..”

“Okay….”

Mark grabbed something from his back pocket, and you felt cold metal go round your neck, and you looked down and saw a simple silver necklace with a pendant marked with a letter “M.” He clipped it and lifted your hair over it and turned you around. He hugged you and kissed the top of your head and whispered,

“Never take this off, you only do if you do not love me anymore. We can’t let anyone know we are dating, we can’t let the others know I have a weakness.”

You fiddled and played with it, and he was holding you. You nodded and understood, you had to date in secret to protect each other, and protect NCT. You then looked at Mark and slowly and gently pecked him on the lips. He blushed and kissed you back, and you both were smitten. Later that night after work was over, as you were about to walk to your room, you were pulled to the side by someone. He back-hugged you and put his head in your neck.

“You can sleep in my room you know…”

“Mmh, Maaarrk, I still have to get my pajamas.” “Just wear one of my hoodies, let's go.”

Mark led you into his room, which you saw for the first time, it was surprisingly clean and smelled like cinnamon and whiskey. He led you into his walk-in closet and showed you his collection of hoodies for you to choose from. You chose a black hoodie with some red text on it, and you put it on as it smelled like musk and light hints of cigarettes. You shyly walked out in his hoodie, which covered your whole body and awaiting Mark’s reaction. He didn’t say anything except he walked up to you and hugged you kissing your temple while you hugged him back with sweater paws. You both cuddled in bed for the first time, and you timidly nuzzled up to his chest while his arm was wrapped around you. That was one of many nights that followed in that bedroom, and you no longer slept in your room for a long time.

You both subtly tried to flirt with each other while others were around, whether it be giving cute looks to each other, or you both coming to visit each other during the work days. But every night you both slept in the same bed. Mark was the first person you felt close in a long time, someone you could trust and love for the rest of your life.

Seoul, Korea 2023

Here you are today, the head executive weapon specialist in NCT, and secretly dating mafia leader Mark, for now, three years. You two have only gotten closer, and you’ve come to trust him with your life. No one found out about your relationship, and you both were happy. You helped with several of NCT missions and was now family to NCT. To be honest, everyone saw you and Mark more as close friends than a couple. You soon also had a lot of admirers from members to trainees. You enjoyed this life, and you hope nothing will ever change that. But as they all say, nothing lasts forever.

next chapter→

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~n ✧*:･ﾟ

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jarienn972 · 5 years

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I Remember it Well

I know that I should have been working on the last chapter of my CSSNS story, A Simple Spell, but whether it was due to the influence of Valentine’s Day last week or thoughts of my own wedding anniversary this week, this little bit of angsty fluff got stuck in my head and I just had to write it. This is a little flashback AU where Deputy Emma Swan reminiscences about the fateful Valentine's Day when responding to a serious accident became more than just a job. It’s mostly fluff but there is some mildly graphic description of a vehicle accident and it's aftermath. It’s intentionally a little choppy as I wanted it to read like little bits of memories popping into Emma’s head. (This was as a quick write and is unbeta'd so please forgive any typos. Edited to add links.)

AO3 FF.net

She should have been getting dressed but couldn’t get that afternoon out of her mind for some reason. The afternoon that had changed everything about how she’d perceived Killian Jones and her memories of the incident that brought them together were just as vivid now as they’d been three years ago.

Three years ago tonight. The anniversary of that fateful day and her brain wanted her to experience it all over again. The day she’d nearly lost the love of her life before she’d even found him.

2017

Of course she was the one stuck working on Valentine’s Day. She was the only deputy in the Storybrooke, Maine Sheriff’s department who was single and everyone knew that Emma Swan didn’t have a date. She wasn’t really resentful of the fact that she was single or the fact that she’d been scheduled to work tonight, it was more hurtful that everybody just automatically assumed she’d be spending another Valentine’s alone.

She’d had boyfriends. A few of them, at least. So she hadn’t dated anyone steady since high school… It wasn’t that big of a deal. She could have found a date for tonight if she’d wanted to, but she hadn’t bothered. David and his wife Mary Margaret were expecting so this would be their last Valentine’s Day without needing a babysitter for the next decade. Emma wouldn’t have denied them a quiet evening. And Graham - he and Ruby had been getting pretty serious since they’d started dating last fall and because Ruby was one of her best friends, Emma couldn’t say no to her. (And she’d get all of the salacious details later because Ruby wasn’t one to keep exploits to herself. The stories that girl could tell!)

So, here she was - sitting at her desk listening to her fellow deputies hash out their lovey-dovey plans for tonight while she’d be here awaiting the inevitable drunken domestic disturbance calls later when romantic plans begin to go awry. It was almost an annual event that her buddy, Leroy, would be spending the night sobering up in holding. Ah the things she had to look forward to she mused as she overheard David confirming a dinner reservation at Tony’s.

The call came in at a little after 4 that afternoon. Car versus motorcycle on Main Street. According to the eyewitness who phoned in the report, there were serious injuries involved. An ambulance had already been dispatched to the scene by the 911 operator and they needed law enforcement. Emma already knew all of this though because the accident site was only a block and a half from the Sheriff’s station. She’d heard the squealing tires and the dull thud that followed. Seconds later, she was out the door trying to see what had happened while concerned citizens rushed toward the accident scene. Emma’s radio crackled with information relayed by the emergency operator, but she was already seeing the events unfolding before her as she elbowed her way to the front of the crowd.

Half of the population of Storybrooke must have been gathered in the street, blocking her view. The first thing she could make out was the smashed rear door on the driver’s side of a dark blue sedan. The young woman who’d apparently been driving the vehicle was standing off to the side, visibly shaken as strangers attempted to calm her. It wasn’t until Emma shoved her way into the clearing that she noticed the mangled motorcycle and the unfortunate man pinned beneath it.

The bike’s front axle and wheel were bent nearly 90 degrees from where they should have been. One of the handlebars had been sheared off along with the mirror and the windshield was shattered, but that wasn’t the worst of the carnage. Most of the body of the motorcycle was resting atop its unconscious operator’s leather-clad left leg. The way the victim was laying in the street suggested that he’d made a drastic turn to the left in hopes of avoiding colliding with the car head on but there was no doubt that he’d suffered the brunt of it.

Emma had immediately known the man’s identity. She’d recognized what was left of the Harley Davidson’s custom paint job - the skull and crossbones flag emblazoned across the fuel tank. She also knew that jet black leather jacket. The one that belonged to the retired Royal Navy lieutenant turned History teacher, Killian Jones. He’d only been in Storybrooke for a couple of years, having accepted a teaching position here after leaving the Royal Navy. Her path had only crossed with the handsome Englishman’s a few times but she knew he was a loner who lived on a boat down at the harbor. By all accounts, he was an excellent teacher who spoke at least 5 languages, but he kept to himself outside of the school. Rumor had it that he had a dark past, but Emma had only seen a brooding, not very social introvert who either took to the local highways on his motorcycle or sailed out into the open sea every weekend. No one had really gotten close enough to ask why.

She tasked herself with crowd control as Storybrooke’s lone fire truck and paramedic unit arrived on scene. She shouted at gawkers to move back to the sidewalk until her voice was hoarse. Why were people so obnoxious? She made sure that the rescue crews had plenty of room to do their job as she tried to interview witnesses for her report. So far, all of the stories were the same: teenager driving the sedan had made a left turn onto Main Street from 2nd Avenue but hadn’t seen the motorcycle. She’d tried to stop but was already too far into the intersection. Jones had swerved to not strike the vehicle head on, but couldn’t escape her path in time. He’d broadsided the vehicle with his bike, rotating the front axle further than mechanical limits allowed before it toppled over onto his leg, pinning him to the asphalt.

It had been no easy feat to remove the motorcycle wreckage from atop Killian Jones’ leg, but with the assistance of a tow truck winch, the rescue crew freed him about twenty minutes later. Paramedics did their best to immobilize him until they could get a clearer look at his injuries, finding his left leg twisted unnaturally and unsurprisingly fractured just below the knee. They maneuvered him cautiously onto his back, suspecting fractured ribs that had possibly punctured his lung. They placed a stiff plastic collar around his neck to stabilize his head before even attempting to remove his helmet although his head seemed the least problematic at the moment.

The injury that most concerned them had been hidden from view until Jones had been rolled onto his back and even from her vantage point, Emma could see it. When the motorcycle had struck the pavement at nearly 20MPH, the same force that had torn off the left handlebar and side mirror had also severed Jones’ left hand at the wrist. Emma’s breath hitched in her chest for a few seconds at the macabre sight before her. Her heart was suddenly breaking for this man she barely knew as she and the rescue crew did their best to keep onlookers back.

In minutes, the paramedics had him loaded into the back of the waiting ambulance and whisked him off to Storybrooke hospital. Emma had to remain at the accident scene for another half an hour while the damaged car and totaled motorcycle were carted away. She took photographs of the scene before anything was removed, then helped sweep up the broken safety glass and metal shards littering the street. Nearly an hour after the accident had occurred, she had to write out the traffic ticket and hand it to the traumatized teenaged driver before releasing the girl to her parents and opening the street to traffic again. Good thing this was a small town so she didn’t have to contend with a gridlock of other vehicles. Now the folks of Storybrooke could get back to their regularly scheduled Valentine’s Day plans while she returned to the station to write up her report.

**********

Long after her reports were filed and the station was locked up for the night, Emma found herself nearly dozing off in the hospital’s waiting room. Officially, she was here to get a statement from Killian Jones when he was coherent enough to answer her questions. But that wasn’t the only reason she was sitting here at nearly 11PM on Valentine’s night. She just felt compelled to be here. Was it pity that he had no family to check in on him or was she feeling something else? She hardly knew him. She should be heading home after a long day at work - a day made even longer by the accident investigation and clean up... and all of those witness statements… What was she doing here?

She’d nearly drifted off to sleep when a nurse approached to let her know that Jones was alert. He was still in serious condition with three fractured ribs, a punctured left lung and ruptured spleen. What resonated with her most was the fact that the surgeon couldn’t reattach his severed hand. Emma would be allowed a few minutes to get a statement, but she was warned that he’d probably be a little drowsy and might not be able to recall much of his ordeal. She didn’t really care though. In truth, she had all of the information she needed. She knew he wasn’t at fault for the accident. Maybe she just needed to tell him that in person...

Maybe she just needed to see for herself that he was going to be alright.

Emma wasn’t sure if he was sleeping or just lying there with his eyes closed when she entered the room so she pushed the door closed as quietly as she could. She took a seat in a chair at the foot of the bed and just watched him for a few minutes. Even battered and bruised, he was still roguishly handsome and she had to chastise herself for staring (although if teachers had looked like this when she was in school, maybe she’d have actually paid attention).

Killian took a deep breath, grimacing at the accompanying discomfort. He recalled someone in blue scrubs telling him about broken ribs and something about a punctured lung, but the morphine-induced haze in his brain wasn’t processing everything yet. There were flashes of a car and perhaps a collision? That was why everything hurt, right? He could hear a faint beeping sound off to his left and something was making his hand itchy. His eyes flickered open to take in his surroundings and he immediately remembered he was in a hospital room - and he wasn’t alone.

He wasn’t sure whether he should be embarrassed by his bedraggled appearance or grateful for the company as he noticed the woman across the room. An awkward grin crossed his lips as he tried to feign an air of self-confidence. He couldn’t quite make out her face, but she wasn’t dressed like any of the medical staff. All he really could see was a halo of blonde locks that had him questioning if she was an angel here to usher him into the afterlife, although were that the case, he shouldn’t be in so much pain…

“I’m sorry,” Emma apologized. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“No apologies necessary, lass,” Killian replied as best he could, his voice deep and raspy as it escaped his parched throat. “Although I appear to be at a loss as to why you’re here… I can’t say that I’m my most dashingly handsome at the moment…”

Was he really this much of an egomaniac or was he genuinely trying to flirt with her right now?

“I’m Deputy Emma Swan of the Storybrooke Sheriff’s department. You were involved in an accident this afternoon and I just wanted to follow up on your condition and get a statement from you, if you’re feeling up to it?”

“Does everyone get such personalized attention from the Sheriff’s deputies here?”

“Not everyone,” she responded sheepishly, scrambling to think of something that wouldn’t sound as though she held some weird obsession. “I uh…, I knew you didn’t have any family here so… so I thought you might appreciate the company…”

“If you’re not put off by my ragged appearance and obvious shortcomings, then yes, I appreciate the company.”

“You honestly look pretty good for someone who just crashed his motorcycle into the side of a car.”

“Ah...so it wasn’t just a dream…,” he sighed.

“Afraid not.”

“My bike?”

“Totaled,” she replied, immediately regretting her bluntness. “Sorry, I should have been more tactful with that.”

“There’s no need to be gentle. It’s hardly my first tragedy…”

“How much do you remember about the incident?”

“I was riding down Main Street, heading home after work and a car pulled out in front of me. I tried to maneuver around the vehicle, but there wasn’t time…”

“The driver didn’t see you,” Emma explained.

“No, they certainly did not…” he responded, now alert enough to realize that his left arm was immobilized and he vaguely recalled the doctor’s words. Hand severely mangled and severed at the wrist by blunt force. Yeah - blunt force of striking asphalt at 20MPH…

“Are you alright?” Emma wondered as she sensed him growing quiet. “I should probably go…You suffered some pretty nasty injuries and I’m sure you need some rest…I’m really sorry they couldn’t save your hand though…” She regretted those words the moment they crossed her lips. “Let me get out of here before I shove my foot in my mouth again…”

“No, please, Emma - I’d like you to stay…” he assured her. “If you’re not horrified by the sight of me…”

“Should I be? You don’t think I’ve seen bruised and bloodied accident victims before? Like I said earlier, you look pretty good for someone who just slammed into a car…”

“Why, Deputy - a gentleman might take that as you flirting with me...” Emma flushed with embarrassment as his statement caught her off guard. She glanced over to the bed to catch the lopsided smirk stretching across his face. Was this guy for real? “It may be that I’m a smidge under the influence of these painkillers, but dare I say that you do look quite beautiful this evening...”

“Now, who’s doing the flirting, Mister?” she chuckled, the reddening of her cheeks even more evident now. “Maybe it’s just some lovey-dovey Valentine’s influence...wait...is it still Valentine’s Day?” Emma questioned herself as she glanced up at the clock mounted on the wall. 11:48PM. “I guess it is still Valentine’s Day - for a few more minutes at least…”

“Deputy Swan - exactly how long have you been sitting over there?” Killian wondered, not understanding why such a gorgeous woman would be spending Valentine’s Day waiting for a wounded and now deformed man to awaken.

“Well...here? Maybe half an hour or so. They wouldn’t let me in to see you until you woke up since I’m technically here to get your statement…”

“You didn’t spoil your plans for this evening on my behalf, did you?”

“Uh, no,” she replied shyly, probably more embarrassed to reveal she hadn’t had a date than she’d been during their mutual flirtation moments ago. “I was on duty tonight because I was the only one in the department without a date.”

“Ah, I see…,” he mused. “Well, Love, if you’re not horrified by the current state of my being, perhaps we could enjoy the remainder of this fabricated holiday together?”

“You’re asking me to be your Valentine’s date while you’re lying there all banged up and half stoned on morphine?”

“If you’ll have me…” he smiled as Emma stood, taking a few tentative steps closer to the bed while Killian extended his uninjured hand towards her. Their paths had crossed a couple of times since he’d arrived in Storybrooke, but he’d never really taken time to appreciate her beauty - her hair the color of spun gold and eyes that sparkled like twin emeralds.

She didn’t know how to respond to his offer at first, eyes dipping to the floor as she contemplated the awkwardness of the situation. Would she be taking advantage of a wounded man if she said yes or would she look like a judgemental bitch if she said no? She hadn’t even yet considered how unprofessional this could appear but to hell with it all, she told herself at last as she wrapped her fingers around his. “Alright - for the next ten minutes, I’ll be your Valentine.”

“Good,” he grinned, a hopeful twinkle brightening his blue eyes. “And I promise you, the next one will be far better.”

“You’re pretty sure of yourself there, buddy,” she teased him as a little giggle escaped her throat. “You don’t even know me.”

“Well then, I’d very much like to get to know you, Ms. Swan. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I don’t even know where to start…”

“How about like this: Greetings, I’m Killian Jones and it is a pleasure to meet you…”

Present Day

“Are you nearly ready, Love?” Emma heard Killian shouting from downstairs. “Our reservation is in twenty minutes and you can be assured that Tony won’t hold the table…”

She shook her head as she rooted around inside her jewelry box in search of her other earring. She couldn’t go without it, not tonight. The emerald solitaires were his favorite as he always insisted that they matched her eyes. It was pure BS but she still appreciated the flattery. All wouldn’t be lost if she couldn’t locate the earring though. She knew he’d be too preoccupied staring at her curves in the little black cocktail dress she’d bought for tonight and he wouldn’t see it until she removed her coat at the restaurant. She’d never get him out of the house if he saw it too soon.

“”I’m just looking for my earring. I’ll be right down,” she shouted back from their second floor bedroom. “Besides, I’m the Sheriff. Tony wouldn’t dare give up my table tonight.”

“Are you willing to take that chance?” she heard him ask as her fingertips finally located the second earring. She quickly donned it and checked her makeup in the vanity mirror one last time. Everything still looked perfect so she grabbed her black wool dress coat from atop the bed and tugged it on, buttoning it while descending the stairs.

At the bottom of the staircase, Killian was impatiently awaiting her, attired head to toe in black, save for the crimson hue of the vest she noticed peeking out from beneath his leather coat. Even three years later, he could still manage to hitch her breath in her throat and give her butterflies in all the right places.

“I took a chance on you, didn’t I?” she answered his rhetorical question as she slipped her arms around his waist and pulled him close. “I still remember that night… Can you believe that its been three years already?” The same lopsided smirk that she remembered so well crossed his face just before his lips caught hers, responding with a passionate kiss that she didn’t want to end. “Now we’re really going to be late…” she laughed as they embraced each other breathlessly.

“To hell with dinner then,” he responded, arms encircling her even tighter as he sported a salacious grin. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Swan.”

She pressed her lips back into his, not caring that her deep wine tinted lipstick was smearing everywhere. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Killian,” she murmured into his kiss.

#cs ff #cs au ff #captain swan ff #cs fanfiction #i remember it well

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ao3feed-supercorp · 5 years

Text

Teach Me Something New

by lexmo25

Kara Danvers was not your typical run of the mill, high school jock. She was popular, of course, and had a knack for raising eyebrows. But Kara Danvers also had a heart full of compassion and kindness. One could not see this on the exterior though-- in that aspect Kara Danvers looked like your typical badass jock. Her typical attire consisted of high raise combat boots, a black leather jacket and some skin tight jeans fit to her frame. Not only did her outfit exude her badass persona, but her vehicle of choice- a 2017 harley motorcycle- was the talk of the student body.

Lena on the other hand was your atypical nerd. She was one of the brightest young students at Midvale High, yet she was popular in her own right. Her best friends, Eve and Cat always by her side. Lena got everything she ever wanted through her surname, except one thing. Lena never was able to excel in athletic endeavors. Which takes us to the first day of junior year, 2019

Words: 1765, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Supergirl (TV 2015)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/F, F/M

Characters: Kara Danvers, Lena Luthor, Alex Danvers, Maggie Sawyer, Winn Schott Jr., James "Jimmy" Olsen, Lucy Lane (DCU)

Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor, Alex Danvers/Maggie Sawyer

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - High School, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn

from AO3 works tagged 'Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor' https://ift.tt/2pdglYZ via IFTTT http://archiveofourown.org/works/21235160

#supercorp #Kara x Lena #Kara Danvers x Lena Luthor #karlena

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lululawrence · 5 years

Photo

2017 Fics Written by lululawrence (1/2)

Master Fic Masterpost / Buy me a Coffee?

Easy, Breezy, Beautiful (5k)

“Louis, I can’t go to school like this! Help me!”

Louis looked his sister up and down and found that her uniform looked pretty par for the course and her golden brown hair actually looked nicer than usual. Unsure what the issue was, he just rubbed his eyes in an attempt to wake up the rest of the way.

“Okay, erm...so how exactly can I help you?” he slowly asked. Maybe if he tried to have her tell him what she expected of him he could figure out how to help her.

“I need something to cover this spot on my forehead! It’s massive!”

...or the one where Phoebe has a makeup emergency and, luckily for all of them but Louis especially, Harry is just the man to help.

Bloody Mary (1k)

The Mosquito Direction crack fic you never knew you needed.

I Don't Know What To Believe (6k) - Part Two of the Everything You Do Is Magic Series

“The fuck is that?” Louis asked. Harry took his eyes off the baby for the first time in who knows how long and didn’t say anything, just held the card out to Louis. Louis, however, seemed to be a bit spooked at a baby showing up in their kitchen with no warning and wasn’t moving any closer.

Harry waved the card in his outstretched hand, showing he was getting a bit frustrated with Louis’ lack of cooperation. “It’s a fucking baby, that’s what! Take the damn card and read it!”

Louis gave Harry his classic unimpressed face. “I know it’s a fucking baby, you twat. Whose baby?”

“Maura and Bobby’s, I’d imagine,” Harry mumbled quietly, letting his arm fall to his side.

Or the one where Harry and Louis find Niall has somehow become a baby and turned up on their kitchen table.

The Day Is Up And Calling (4k)

All Harry was trying to find was his flatmate, Ed, but if he finds Ed's new fit employee instead? Well...things could be worse.

bend me, shape me (4k) - Co-Written with @dimpled-halo and @a-writerwrites

“You forgot something, didn’t you, darling?” Louis didn’t bother to look at Harry, but his voice said everything Harry was sure he’d see in his eyes if he did. There was an undercurrent of teasing, but a sort of condescending agitation that Harry was, unfortunately, very familiar with.

Shit. He’d forgotten something.

“Were we supposed to go somewhere?”

Louis didn’t answer — he just ran his thumb over the head of his fully hard cock and groaned, the sound of it going straight to Harry’s groin. “Um. It’s not your birthday…” Harry was wracking his brain. “Our anniversary is May 10th. Um…”

“Our marriage anniversary is May 10th. Husband.” Louis was staring at him vehemently now. And, of course. Of course that was what it was. An anniversary.

****

Harry forgets an anniversary. Louis helps him remember.

I Found A Love (4k)

Louis adjusted his suspenders a bit and picked up the next book when someone cleared their throat behind him, making Louis jump. He spun quickly around, hand on his chest and just barely remembered to not drop Diana Gabaldon’s newest thousand page hardback that would definitely have done damage to Louis’ feet.

Standing in front of him was someone who looked like he had just walked out of a motorcycle commercial. He had his hair pulled up in a bun, was wearing what looked to be an expensive as fuck leather jacket over a ratty Rolling Stones t-shirt, and were those sparkly boots? Louis wasn’t quite sure how to take him, but he certainly had a presence. He was also likely confused about his location and was clearly about to ask where the DVD section was.

Or the one where Louis is a nerdy English major who may just run into his happily ever after while working his shift at the local library.

That's Not My Name (3k)

He froze for a second, because he hadn’t expected to be hit with such an intense gaze. Green eyes beneath a beanie and loads of curly hair made Louis miss a beat before coming back to himself.

“Uh, hi. Sorry. Can I take your order?”

The boy (man?) gave a shy smile and said, “Just a caramel macchiato, please. Grande.” Louis nodded as he scribbled onto the cup and punched it into the register.

As the boy held his phone to the machine to pay, Louis asked, “Name please?”

“Oh, uh, Marcus.”

Louis scribbled Marcus on the cup and handed it off, but not before giving the boy a smile and nodding over to where he’d be able to pick up his drink. Louis watched him a bit longer than he probably should have, then forced himself to move on.

Or the one where the cute boy coming into the coffee shop gives Louis a different name every time...for over a month.

Be A Daymaker (5k)

“If you guys purchase fifty items between now and Saturday’s live, then Louis here will do one of my live sales next week.”

At Lottie's announcement, Louis did a little dance of mock excitement and Harry gasped.

“Yeah, you’re all wondering why that would be so great, right?” Harry scoffed. Who would complain about this arrangement other than Louis? Harry knows from chatting with some of the other regulars that he wasn’t the only one of Lottie’s viewers with a crush on her brother. “Well, not only will he do a live, but he’ll do the live in an outfit of your choosing.”

Or, a completely self indulgent AU where Louis and Lottie are a consultant team for LuLaRoe and Harry is one of their most loyal customers.

Love Me Like You Do (4k)

“Yeah, but is working in a field completely unrelated to what I’m educated in and what I want to do really paying my dues? And Lou, I’m 28. I’m 28 working a job I don’t enjoy, still living with my best friend, minutes from my mom’s house.”

“You’re saying that living with me isn’t the best part of your life right now, fucker,” Louis complained, poking Harry in the ribs where he knew he was sensitive. Harry squeaked and moved his arm to protect his side before apologizing.

“I didn’t mean it like that, it’s just…” Harry sighed. “I feel like I’m just treading water and I have been for ages now. I’m glad I have a job that covers what I need it to, and I’m incredibly lucky to have you with me as well, but like…”

Louis waited, but the silence wasn’t filled.

Or the one where it's time for Harry's ten year reunion and Louis being his fake boyfriend for the night changes things more than they expected.

What Happens Next (5k)

“So anyway,” Louis said on a yawn, making Harry yawn as well. “What can I do for you?”

“Uhm. Well, I was wondering how a free vacation sounded to you.”

Harry knew he had Louis’ attention fully because his voice suddenly sounded much more alert.

“I’d say you’re trying to sell me something, because nothing in life is free. However, I am listening.”

Or a fic where Harry has to pick up the pieces and ends up on the couples cruise that should have been his honeymoon...with his best friend Louis.

Validation (4k)

“Hey, how are you?” Harry asked. He’d found that sometimes just a smile and a kind face was all that was needed to brighten someone’s day.

“Oh, uhm. I’m alright. Can you validate me?”

Harry chuckled inwardly, but decided to go ahead and take him literally.

Or the one where Harry worked in a parking garage and he totally didn’t mean for this, the whole validation of people as well as their parking tickets, to become a thing. It just kinda...did.

Cake, Phone, Harry (3k)

It was so innocent. Louis hadn’t been expecting it. “See you at home around 6!” Harry’s text read, and then at the very end he’d snuck one of those very graphics Louis had come to dislike so much.

A smiley emoji.

Or the one where Louis is probably the last holdout when it comes to using emojis, but that doesn't last forever.

Same White Shirt (10k)

“Oh my God. What are you holding?”

Harry was startled to hear an English voice coming from behind him that he didn’t know. He’d thought he knew all the English employees around here. When he turned around there was a man with the most stunning eyes and incredible cheekbones known to man in the doorway looking with absolute distaste at the suit Harry had just been thinking of so fondly.

“It’s my suit for the show,” Harry said firmly. This guy was obviously an assistant if the badge and plate of fruit he was holding were anything to go by, but as he began walking to where the table was in the room, Harry noticed he was walking with a slight limp. Oh shit.

Or the one where Harry's on the Late Late Show for a week and several misunderstandings with a certain mouthy assistant James recently hired make things that much more interesting.

Now That It's Over (8k)

“What are the odds we would both be at Mariano’s on a Thursday night?”

Louis’ shoulders tensed. What the hell was he doing here?

“Harry? Hi? The odds are pretty crazy, yeah.”

Harry smiled down at Louis the way he used to, but there was also a glint in his eye that Louis absolutely did not like. Harry was also dressed in his favorite black and white striped women’s jeans and a printed shirt only he would ever be able to pull off. It was quite rude of him to come and interrupt Louis, particularly while looking so good. Louis hadn’t seen him since he’d finished moving his shit out of what was once their shared flat, so this being the first time seeing him wasn’t exactly providence in Louis’ mind.

Or the one where Harry and Louis broke up two months ago, and Harry just might be sabotaging Louis' dates.

A Word We've Only Heard (7k)

So, where are you headed?” Liam asked, not wanting to sit in awkward silence for their journey. It was twelve hours to Chicago, and that was far too long to sit and not chat with his fellow passenger in front of him.

“Chicago,” he answered, his blue eyes meeting Liam’s own. “It’s home. Been on the road for quite some time now, it’s the first time I’ll be able to sleep in my own bed in almost a month.”

Liam whistled. “You must be pretty excited.”

The man gave a soft smile, which made him look younger than Liam initially expected; he might even still be in his twenties. He wondered what kind of a life this man had led to look so tired until he smiled.

Or, it's 1951, Harry is the owner of a music shop, and Louis is a traveling salesman making his way back home.

No Chance At All (5k)

As an omega, Louis naturally had the ability to sense alphas, so it wasn’t like this was an unusual situation for him. The difference here was that this man smelled so strong and so ridiculously good. Louis had never been so attracted to someone’s scent before. Add the fact that this worker whose name tag read “Harry” looked like some kind of greek god with his long curly hair and dimples as he chatted up the older woman ordering currently, and Louis was already a goner.

Or the one where Louis just wants to drink good coffee and work on his homework in peace, but the alpha barista is charming to everyone but him, and that just pisses him off.

(Make You Want To) Scream (16k)

While Louis' left hand plays with his nipple, his right reaches down and wraps around his dick and that's when he really knows something is wrong.

The dick in his hand does not feel like his own.

Nothing Please Me More Than You (8k)

This guy came in every day and without fail said or did something that made Louis pause and puzzle over what it meant. His accent was American, but it had to be some regional dialect from nearby or something because everything sounded sharper when he spoke. A little more crisp. Like he’d worked with one of those dialect coaches that had been used when talking pictures first started being made.

Louis shook his head and tried to rid himself of lectures from the film history course he’d taken last semester. It obviously had no bearing on what was going on with hot dude in the corner. Still, Louis would love to pick his brain and figure out where he was from. How his hair always looked so perfect. If he liked to kiss boys.

Or...the one where Louis is a barista and Harry is the hot dude that comes in every day and does nothing except sit in the corner, writing in his notebook, all day long. But what Louis learns when he sneaks a peek inside the notebook changes everything.

Let Me Make It Better (4k)

Dan's house was large and spacious, but there were still only five bedrooms for a family of, what would soon be, nine. The division seemed quite simple, in Louis’ mind. Mom and Dan would obviously get the master suite, Lottie and Fizzy would share the largest room with Phoebe and Daisy getting the next largest, the newest twins would get the smaller room that was closest to the master suite, and Louis would take the smallest room right beside the bathroom since he didn’t have to share.

Lottie and Fizzy vehemently disagreed.

Or the one where Louis was seven years old when he moved in next door to Harry, but now that they're in their senior year of college, everything is starting to change.

My Cup of Tea (2k)

In which Harry is the trainer for Louis' new hire class, and his quirks might be exactly what Louis needs to pay attention.

#mine #my fics #my fic rec #my fic masterpost #2017 fics masterpost #fic rec

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motorcyclepant · 5 years

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motorcycleleatherjacket · 6 years

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Womens leather motorcycle jacket

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fernwehbookworm · 5 years

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Woke the F*ck Up- Chapter 8

August 31st, 2018

Pictures of their time together had exploded across newsstands in National City by the time Kara returned. None of them really had a clear picture of Kara, thanks to Lena, but anyone who knew her knew it was her. She had texted Alex back and told her she was turning off her phone until she got back. The couple had spent their days exploring the city and their nights exploring each other. Kara was smiling broadly still when Alex picked her up at the airport. Alex just laughed and called her a dork as Kara gushed about Italy and Lena. Kara turned on her phone on the car ride home.

Five missed calls from Cat Grant.

“Shit,” Kara says.

“What is it?”

“Cat Grant called me. Multiple times.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I'll need to talk to Lena first.”

“What will you do if she calls…” Kara's phone rings with Cat's name flashing across the screen.

“Again.” Alex finishes. Kara groans and unlocks her phone.

“Miss Grant! Hello.” She says a little too cheerily.

“Kara Danvers. How could you?”

“I'm sorry Miss Grant. I don't know what you mean?”

“You and Lena Luthor. How could you not provide me with an exclusive?” Kara cringes.

“I don't know what you mean.”

“So you weren't just in Italy with the Lena Luthor? You are a terrible liar.”

“No comment.”

“When did this start?”

“No comment.” a sigh from the other end.

“Is there anything you will comment on?”

“Off the record, Miss Grant, if and when there is something for me to disclose about a relationship with anyone I will let you know if that person agrees to do so.” Cats silence through the phone is as good as a groan of frustration.

“I will hold you to that Kara Danvers.” The line goes dead.

“Wow, I'm impressed, sis. Not many people can say no to Cat Grant.”

“It wasn't a no. Just a later. I have to talk to Lena about this.”

“You guys didn't talk about it while you were together? You had to know something like this would happen.”

“We were… busy.” Kara blushes furiously.

“TMI, sis, TMI.”

September 25th, 2017

Weeks passed. Kara and Lena mostly played phone tag until Kara could manage to meet Lena somewhere. Three trips across the world to see a beautiful woman who captivated most of Kara's thoughts.

The rest of Kara's thoughts were focused on Cadmus. The gang had been becoming more and more organized. Winn was having trouble tracking down, members. Most of the members Kara had captured disappeared or were released and then fell off the grid. When Kara and Winn did manage to locate different bases of operations for the gang, it was much more sophisticated and systematically destroyed than when they first started.

Kara had begun canceling more and more of her lessons until several people demanded refunds. She just gave it to them instead of wasting her time arguing. James was the last one who actually still tried to get her to teach him. Kara just spent most of her time with Winn, trying to figure out Cadmus’ next move.

Violence had skyrocketed in poorer districts and was spreading quickly. The police couldn't find willing witnesses to the crimes. Then as soon as several violent crimes occurred in one area it would stop. Winn believed that Cadmus was causing chaos just to have people pay them to stop. He was trying to find any source of payment to be able to trace it but was having little success. Kara was getting more and more reckless, going out in daylight in full gear. Frustration was clearly getting the best of her and it worried Winn.

“Hey darling, how are you?” Lena's voice some through her Bluetooth.

“Better now that I can finally talk to you,” Kara responds, she weaves in between cars going much faster than she should.

“What are you doing? That's an odd noise.”

“Oh, just out for a ride. Had to clear my head.” Kara pulls to a stop at a light. This time she was just in her plain clothes, her bike black to blend in with the traffic.

“Out for a ride?”

“On my motorcycle.”

“Since when do you have a motorcycle?”

“Umm… I guess since right after you left the country. I haven't told you?” Traffic starts again as the light turns green.

“No, I think I would remember if my girlfriend had something as sexy as a motorcycle. Please, for my imagination's sake, tell me you are wearing a leather jacket.”

“What else would I be wearing?”

“Yup, that will do it. Thinking of you in a nothing but a leather jacket, fucking me over your motorcycle. I'm all set for after this phone call.” The words cause Kara to swerve just a little. She swallows.

“And now I wish I was at home. Damn you Lena Luthor.”

“Sorry babe.”

“So was there a purpose to this call? I'm not all that fond of talking while driving even if it's hands-free.”

“Then why did you pick up?”

“Because it's you and I miss the sound of your voice.”

“I don't deserve you, Kara Danvers.”

“Trust me, you deserve good in your life. And this is good. We are good.”

“And now you are being way too sweet for what I was hoping my fantasy would be before.”

“Has that stopped you before?”

“True. Anyway, the reason is that something came up and you can't come to see me this weekend. I'm sorry, Jess just told me.”

“Oh,” Kara was really looking forward to clearing her head with a trip to the Netherlands, where Lena was now.

“I'll try and figure some other time you could come. Maybe when we go to Greece.”

“Yeah maybe.” Kara hits the breaks when someone cuts her off, horns honk as the idiot crosses into another lane.

“Shit. Okay, Lena, I have to go. I'll call you later.”

“I miss you.”

“I miss you too. Be safe.”

“You too.” A beat of silence then the line goes dead. The pause was filled with words Kara wanted to say so badly but just knew it would scare Lena off. Three words that would cause her to disappear and Kara couldn't bear that thought.

“Power Girl, we have a bank robbery just three blocks from you.” Winn's voice intrudes her thoughts.

“I'm in street clothes Winn. Where can I change?”

“Hold on, hacking traffic cams… turn right and halfway down the block, against the wall.” Kara makes the turn.

“You have got to be kidding me.” She says when she sees it.

“Don't worry, it's all boarded up and out of commission.”

“Its a phone booth Winn.”

“It's either that or let them getaway.” Kara sighs and pulls her bike onto the sidewalk next to it.

“But it's a phone booth.”

#supergirl #supercorp #lena luthor #kara danvers #Singer #Vigilante #au #fanfiction #WTFU

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ao3feed-sanvers · 5 years

Text

Teach Me Something New

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2pdglYZ

by lexmo25

Words: 1765, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Supergirl (TV 2015)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/F, F/M

Characters: Kara Danvers, Lena Luthor, Alex Danvers, Maggie Sawyer, Winn Schott Jr., James "Jimmy" Olsen, Lucy Lane (DCU)

Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor, Alex Danvers/Maggie Sawyer

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - High School, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2pdglYZ

#IFTTT #supergirl #sanvers #maggie sawyer #alex danvers

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abracadora-archived · 7 years

Text

Blindspot

This small fic was inspired by the #greasykeith movement started by @baeyards.

Pairings: Keith/Lance

Word Count: 3004

When a cute boy with lots of piercings and the coolest jacket Keith has ever seen walks into the mechanic shop where Keith works, Keith is… really gay. And slightly confused by how friendly said boy seems to be.

Featuring Mechanic! Keith and Punk! Lance

(Sha/adins don’t interact!!)

Read on AO3 [Although reblogs are appreciated :) ]

The door of the lobby tinkles as someone walks in, bringing in a swoosh of heat from the outside and a burst of noise from the street outside. Keith, in the kitchenette attached to the lobby, ducks his head down and busies himself with the coffee. He briefly considers adding cream or sugar to the dark liquid, and then decides that he can’t be bothered.

He scurries out of the small room, weaving his way through the lobby. He catches a snippet of the conversation between the lady at the front desk and the man standing in front of it. Keith’s eyes flit to the side and he nods shortly at the lady (he’s pretty sure her name is Lilian). The guy, who’s currently leaning with his arms rested on the top of the desk, is slightly taller than Keith but looks to be around his age, and Keith frowns, because this means that he’s most likely here for some car repairs, and that means that he’ll be going to one of the other mechanics.

Keith goes through the lobby and the lounge and pushes past the door that leads into the actual garage. There, he is met with mechanical sounds of metal clanging and tools squeaking and scraping- all of which is familiar and comfortable to Keith. He sees Rolo, an older coworker of his (that Keith is pretty sure he had a crush on in the first few weeks of working here) with half of his body disappearing underneath a car, and Hunk, a coworker of Keith’s age who is pulling out the dents from a recently crashed SUV.

Keith goes over to Hunk.

“How close are you to being done?” he asks.

Hunk glances up at him and frowns slightly. “Half an hour, maybe? Why?”

“There’s this guy at the front desk,” Keith replies monotonously. “He’ll probably need one of you.”

Hunk is observant, and he’s probably known Keith long enough to detect the frustration in his voice. He clucks sympathetically, and then takes a look at the coffee in Keith’s hand. “That thing has no cream or sugar in it, I’m assuming.”

Keith shrugs, and takes a sip of it. Hunk makes a face.

“How,” he says, before turning back to his work.

Keith leans against the wall, not bothering Hunk as he works, but just lazing in his company. Sometimes Keith wishes that he had been hired as a car mechanic instead of a motorbike one- he knows how to work with cars pretty well- but Keith much prefers bikes to cars. Keith He barely scraped by his actual driving test in high school, and nearly got arrested the last time he tried to properly drive.

Customers that need bike repairs aren’t common as those who need car repairs, for understandable reasons. That leaves Keith, who always needed something to do with his hands, with a lot of impatient and jittery energy.

He bounces his leg up and down as he glances back into the lounge. The guy from before leans against the wall of the lounge. He’s dressed in a dark jacket, one of those with the body made of denim and sleeves made out of leather.

People don’t usually pull those off, Keith muses. The jacket is dotted with multiple pins, which Keith can’t describe from this distance, but what Keith can see are the multiple piercings that line his ears. Something akin to envy spikes up within Keith.

“Who’s that guy over there?” he says offhandedly. “He looks legit.”

Hunk’s head pops up from behind the car and his eyes follow Keith’s gaze over to the boy in the lounge. Inexplicably, Hunk barks out a laugh.

“Who? Lance?” he asks.

Keith looks back at Hunk with an expression in his eyes like Hunk just said that tomorrow the sun would turn green. “Who the fuck is Lance?”

“That guy over there.” Hunk ducks back down to the car but continues talking to Keith. “His name’s Lance.” Hunk pats the car and stands up. “He’s a friend of mine. You think he looks legit?”

“Well, I mean.” Keith isn’t sure why he feels flustered. “I like his piercings.”

Hunk clicks his tongue. “Yeah, you would, they’re cool. He has that whole aesthetic going for him, you two could get along. Although-” Hunk pauses, and he eyes Keith outfit. “Your clothes are…a bit less put together than him. And he thinks that fingerless gloves are tacky.”

Keith scowls at him but doesn’t argue. Someone calls his name from near the front building and Keith’s head whips up. The manager of the place stands there with a clipboard in his hands. Keith says bye to Hunk and walks off in that direction, eager for something to do.

“You have someone here for you,” the manager says when Keith approaches.

“For me?”

“Well, for his bike. We brought it out back, it’s a basic gas tank repair. He’s in the lounge right now. He’s Lance McClain.”

Keith’s heart jumps, and he wonders why. A gas tank repair isn’t the most interesting, but Keith is itching to use his hands for something. He nods and heads into the lounge.

The burst of cool air when he walks in is almost a relief to him. He rubs the back of his hand against his forehead, rather uselessly, in an attempt to wipe off the sweat, and then looks at Lance.

“Are you Lance?” he asks, even though he already knows.

Lance turns to him with an eyebrow raised. Keith (for some reason) counts exactly four piercings on each ear of his, each pair carrying a different set of earrings. The lowest hanging ones on his earlobes glinted silver, and Keith’s stomach dropped.

And then Keith notices the stud screwed through the right side of Lance’s lower lip. The realization vaguely feels like someone punching him in the stomach and then releasing butterflies.

Lance snaps his fingers just a bit away from Keith’s face. “Hello? You said my name.”

Keith winces, feeling his face flood with warmth. “I- yeah, sorry.”

Lance peers at him with eyes the colour of the ocean depths. “You good bro?”

“Yeah, I-” Keith fumbles over his words. He never was the best at talking to people, especially not with someone like Lance. “I like your piercings,” he says rather gruffly.

It wasn’t a lie- Keith is hot with envy- but Keith probably isn’t admitting the full truth, even to himself. (At least he’s self aware?)

“Oh.” The corner of Lance’s mouth curls up. “Cool, me too. You’re here to fix my bike.”

Keith clears his throat, quickly redirecting his mind back into business mode. “That’s right. What’s the issue with it?”

Lance lifts one hand up to scratch at the back of his neck, and Keith’s mind supplies, That’s so hot.

Shut up, Keith thinks in response.

“I kind of got into a crash, like, a week ago?” Lance scrunches his nose and Keith feels short of breath. “I punctured my gas tank, I think. I’m pretty sure.”

“Oh. Were you okay?” Keith asks automatically, glad that he can keep a semblance of politeness while his mind feels like it’s short-circuiting.

“Yeah, I just got a bit scraped up,” Lance says in a casual way that Keith can respect. “I haven’t even ridden my bike again.”

Keith nods. “Okay, we can… head to your bike then.”

They leave the building together and Keith tries not to be hyper-aware of Lance’s proximity to him. He scolds himself and tells the back of his mind that he’s being unprofessional and ridiculous.

He finds Lance’s bike pretty quicky since it’s the only one the garage. It’s sleek and looks pretty new, with a black and blue colour theme.

“Wow,” Keith says, legitimately impressed.

“It’s a Honda CB500,” Lance says with pride thrumming through his voice, as if Keith doesn’t have three motorcycle catalogs sitting on his desk at home as they speak. “It’s the 2017 model, too.”

“Nice,” Keith says.

“Thanks,” Lance says genuinely, and the sideways smile he gives Keith makes Keith’s heart want to jump out of his chest.

“I’m going to take a look at it.” Keith gestures towards the bike and he urges himself to get focused. Repairing motorcycles was something he was familiar with, and he shouldn’t let himself get distracted by some (admittedly cute) guy.

He wheels the motorcycle over to his station and starts to crank it up. He’s vaguely aware of Lance strolling up behind him. Keith forces himself not to glance over, and continues on with his work.

“So… do you have a bike?” Lance asks. Keith pauses for a moment in the middle of taking out the tools he needs from his toolbox.

“I don’t,” Keith answers. He goes on with the work; he doesn’t mind the attention, at least not from Lance, but it’s surprising to him that Lance would say anything. “I’m actually trying to save up for one right now. I’ve been interested in them since I was a kid.” That was the sole reason why Keith didn’t have more piercings or any tattoos right now; his desire to not have to walk to work in Miami’s heat and humidity was greater than his desire for an aesthetic, currently.

“Really?”

“I had, like, a collection of like 50 toy models when I was a kid,” Keith explains. His hands move, almost by instinct, over the different parts of the bike, making sure to handle everything with care.

Lance makes a noise that could be a laugh.

“What?” Keith asks.

“Nothing.” He hears Lance shift behind him. “Just. It’s different from my childhood, I guess. My siblings and I always played those make-believe games.”

Keith hums. By the time he was adopted, Keith’s own brother was already starting college, so he was never given a chance to do anything of that sort.

“Is that why you’re a mechanic?” Lance sounds curious, and Keith, for the life of him, doesn’t know why.

“Kind of.” Keith’s tongue pokes out of the side of his mouth as he concentrates- it’s an involuntary habit he developed, probably after a year of working with Hunk. “My older brother’s also a mechanical engineer and was interested in this stuff… I kind of learned from him, too. He’s getting his PhD this year,” Keith adds necessarily, feeling a warm glow of pride for Shiro.

“Cool, tell him congratulations for me.”

From anyone else, Keith thinks, that would have sounded sarcastic, but somehow Lance makes them seem like the most truthful words ever spoken. It’s an odd trait for someone that has spiked rings stuck in his ears.

“I will.” Then Keith frowns and sets his tools down, turning around on Lance. “Why are you talking to me?”

Lance blinks, clearly offended. “Excuse me?”

“That came out wrong.” Keith resists the urge to massage the bridge of his nose with two fingers. “I mean, you know, customers don’t usually talk to the mechanic while they wait.”

Luckily, Lance doesn’t seem to be angry (Keith usually has no qualms about riling someone up, but it seems unfair to do it so someone as uniquely nice as Lance). He reaches up and tugs at a stray piece of hair that peeks out from the front of his black beanie. Keith’s stomach does a flip.

“I don’t know,” he says, and he almost sounds sheepish. “I was just. Making conversation.”

“Oh.” Keith feels nonplussed. “Well, you can get coffee and lemonade in the lounge. And like, cookies.”

They stare at each other for a moment, and Keith is sure that neither of them have any clue what exactly is going on right now.

“I’ll leave you to it, then.” Lance holds two fingers up like a salute, and then contorts his face into a look of half-embarrassment, half-confusion. He walks off, leaving Keith also half-embarrassed, half-confused.

With his distraction gone, Keith is able to throw himself fully into his work. He works swiftly but meticulously, and by the time he looks up and realizes that an hour has passed since the manager spoke to him, the gas tank is already fixed.

He sends a last, longing look towards the bike and then turns around and makes his way towards the lounge. His fingers are sticky with drying grease and dust, so he drags his fingers over the denim of his jeans, thankful that they’re black and will, for the most part, cover up the multiple stains he gets during the work day.

He actually breathes a sigh of relief as the air-conditioned air hits his skin, feeling the sweat on his skin cool instantly. The fans installed in the garage are literally never that useful during the peak of summer.

“Lance?” he asks, searching with his eyes for that friendly smirk. Keith hopes that he didn’t grow impatient and leave, or they would have to store the bike for him and it would be another hassle.

“I’m here!” says Lance’s voice, and he comes in through the door from the lobby. “I was having a chat with our lovely receptionist.”

Keith finds it a bit hard to swallow. “Right. I’m done with your bike.”

“Sweet.” Lance looks pleased, so that’s a bonus. “She’s all fixed up?”

“Good as new. They’re taking her to the front right now.” Keith tries for a smile, but he’s realizing that Lance will now leave forever, and for some absurd reason, that’s making him feel down.

“I can’t wait to ride her again,” Lance says mournfully. “It’s been a whole week.”

“I can see you’re attached to her,” Keith says, half-jokingly.

Lance smiles. “I named her Hermosa.”

“Nice,” Keith says, for lack of anything better to say.

“You know,” Lance says after a beat, lowering his ocean-blue gaze to meet Keith’s eyes. “If you’d be interested, I wouldn’t mind taking you on a ride one day.”

Keith’s brain isn’t able to comprehend Lance’s words. “Wait, what?”

Lance takes a step forwards, and the smile on his face transforms into (if Keith isn’t horribly, horribly mistaken) something that he could almost call flirtatious. “I mean, don’t think I didn’t notice that you’ve been flustered around me.”

Is Lance hitting on him? Is that what this is? There isn’t a possible way that Lance can actually be interested in Keith. Keith isn’t exactly the most appealing person in the world, as shown by his stained clothes and slightly matted hair and generally closed off personality. “I- wait, just- what?”

The confident looks falls off Lance’s face faster than Keith can blink. “Please tell me I’m reading that correctly. Holy shit, this is really fucking awkward if I’m not.”

Keith’s mind moves in fast forward, his thought process zipping forward to catch up with the situation that surrounds him. “No!” he splutters, taking a half-step forward. “No, I- I’m pretty sure you’re reading this exactly correctly.”

Lance’s face lights up, which makes Keith’s heart feel like it’s running a sprint in his chest. “Oh, really? I mean-” He clears his throat. “Yeah. Of course. I saw that.”

“I just didn’t assume that you would…” Keith’s voice is rather flimsy and he makes a vague gesture in an attempt to get his point across.

“Think I liked guys?” Lance grins, a whole wide smile with his white teeth showing, and his eyes crinkle up with something like amusement. He points to something on his vest and Keith follows the direction to a pin with the bisexual pride colours, resting over Lance’s heart next to a pin of the Cuban flag.

“Oh,” Keith says faintly. “Obviously I didn’t notice.”

Lance lets out a laugh that’s half a snort, half a giggle. Keith finds that it does inexplicable things to his heart. “Clearly.” His expression, looking nearly shy, and the change in demeanor gives Keith whiplash. “Do you think… maybe we could meet up something? To be clear, go out sometime.” He grins again and gives Keith a small wink of jest.

“Uh.” Keith coughs and curses himself for being so stilted. “Yeah. That’d be great.”

“Awesome.” Lance starts to speak so fast that Keith can barely catch what he’s saying. “I know this amazing Cuban bakery that we can go to. Actually, it’s owned by my aunt so I’m biased, but I promise you that the pastelitos de guayaba there are to die for. I’ll ride you there.” He whips out a Sharpie from his jeans pocket and grabs Keith’s hand, pulling him forward to scribble down a number on his skin. “Don’t forget to save the number before it rubs off.”

“I will,” Keith promises, feeling his cheeks warm up. It’s a good feeling, Keith decides.

“Cool.” Lance’s eyes are bright and Keith feels a faint rush in his chest and something like butterflies hatching in his stomach. “I gotta go pick up my bike, but I guess… I’ll see you around.”

“For sure,” Keith answers, and he tries to press down the oddly nice nervousness that bubbles in his stomach.

Lance squeezes Keith’s hand for a brief moment and then starts to walk away. Before he completely turns away, he looks back and Keith and gives him an impish grin and states, “I hope you plan on wearing cleaner clothes when we next meet.”

Keith glances down at his own grease-spotted shirt and looks back up at Lance, then rolls his eyes. “Yes, Lance, I do.”

Lance laughs, and to Keith it sounds like sunshine. “See you around, Mullet,” he says, and Keith is sure that he imagines the fondness that lies over the teasing nickname. Keith touches his own hair in mock offense and Lance shoots him a last smile before exiting the lounge.

Keith turns back to the garage and resists the urge to sigh like a lovestruck middle-schooler. Before he steps outside, he makes a mental reminder to save the number on his arm in his phone when he gets home, and when that thought brings a fluttery feeling to his stomach, Keith welcomes it.

#mmmm im so insecure about this but whatever here is the post!#voltron #voltron legendary defender #vld #klance #keith #lance #safeklance #mine #safekeith #safelance #my writing

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