#but I‘m bad with titles
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silentiumdelirium · 1 year ago
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Part 1 | Part 2
***
It‘s Dustin. Of course it is. This kid has been cockblocking him since he met him. Although Dustin hadn‘t really cockedblocked him right now had he? I mean Steve didn‘t want to go any further with Eddie, the kiss was just an experiment right? And well the feeling he just had was proof to his theorey, that it doesn‘t matter who‘s gender it is, kissing is kissing. And Steve likes kissing so of course it also felt good with Eddie. He apparently also likes when someone grabs his ass which he hadn‘t know until yet. No girl has ever done that. Also if Dustins knocking hadn‘t interrupted him he would‘ve kept kissing Eddie. But that doesn‘t mean anything it just proofs that Eddie is a good kisser and his mouth is like any mouth right? Oh god why has Steve done this? He feels like he hadn‘t proofed anything to Robin but maybe she has to him?
‚Steve?‘ He lifts his head from his hand and looks up to see Dustin‘s excited face. ‚Oh my god you guys keep hanging out without me! I told you you have to invite me next time‘ Dustin screams and Steve rolls his eyes. He has been a bit clingy since the whole upside down thing happenend again which is probably fair because Eddie almost died in his arms.
‚Nightmare 3 is finally out on video so we‘re gonna make a horror movie night! And i‘m just here to invite Eddie and oh Steve can we use your house? You‘re obviously also invited!‘
‚Oh thank you what an honor to be invited to a movie night which also happens at my house. I guess I also have to provide the movies since I work at the video store?‘
‚Yes exactly thank you‘ Dustins grins ignoring Steve‘s sarcastic tone.
Eddie grins as well. ‚well thank you for inviting me kid! I would be honored to join.‘
Steve rolls his eyes and puts his hand to his hips in the typical babysitter (or mum like Max always says) way.
‚But I‘m not gonna give them to you if they‘re too dark okay? You lot already have enough stuff to fill your nightmares with we don‘t have to add more!‘
Dustin groans and says: ,Relax Steve it‘s not that dark it‘s funny and we‘re sixteen now so we are legally allowed to watch it!‘
Right Steve forgot that they are already fucking sixteen now! Soon they‘re gonna go to party, drink, smoke weed…wait maybe they already doing that? Oh my god what if Eddie and the whole hellfire club is bad influence? I mean Eddie sells drugs so what if he also solds to Dustin and the others? He had to ask Eddie as soon as they were alone again. But as long as they are doing stuff at Steve‘s house he could at least watch them not do anything too stupid.
‚Alright alright you can do your stupid horrormovie night at my house but you have to provide the snacks and everything, I will only provide the videos.‘
‚Yes!‘ Dustins screams triumphant and high fives Eddie. ‚Can you also drive me to Mike now Steve? I mean you have to drive to work anyway right?‘ Dustin asks and Steve looks at his watch. Right work he had to go now so he wouldn‘t be late. He sighs ‚Jesus alright but hurry up don‘t want to be late again!‘ Dustin is already half out the door when Steve looks to Eddie who is standing at the kitchen counter again. Right where they were kissing just minutes ago. ‚Right so I see you tomorrow?‘ Steve asks suddenly very uncomfortable with the whole sitaution. Eddie smiles nervously and avoids looking at him. ‚Sure man see ya.‘ Steve grabs his jackets and moves to the door with one final glance to Eddie who is fidgeting with his rings. Steve tries not to think about how those hands with the rings had felt on his ass and quickly leaves out the door. He definitely has to discuss what just happenend with Robin!
***
Yay managed to write a next part so now you know who‘s at the door @stevesbipanic also you‘re username fits very well here because Steve Bi panic is incoming!!!
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tchutomu · 8 months ago
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so.
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skipper1331 · 1 month ago
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Red and Blue // Leah Williamson
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a/n: might be back or not, idk :)
Long distance.
You hated that word.
It reminded you that you wouldn‘t wake up next to your lover,
that you wouldn’t get a good night kiss or cuddles either,
that you couldn't get any affection except over the phone - which wasn't a long-term solution.
Each day that passed it was harder to deny the desire to go back home, back home to Leah.
To be fair, it wasn’t the first time that you‘d been long distance but ever since Leah had put a ring to your finger, the 'fiancé' and 'soon to be wife' rolling of her tongue made your heart ache.
Home was calling.
-
When you shared your thoughts on transferring back to the English league, Leah was excited and so happy - she’s been missing you like crazy. The blonde more than obsessed with you and still so in love with you. The thought of playing side by side with you in red was everything she could wish for. Every time you wore her Arsenal jersey - 'Williamson' on your back - she fell more and more in love with you. Sometimes she thought there was no way that she could love you even more yet you surprised her each time. Sometimes it was the way you smiled or other times it was the way her family loved you, endless possibilities. She would never stop falling deeper in love with you.
Though, what didn’t occur to her was that you hadn’t gotten any offers by Arsenal.
Brighton had offered one, Liverpool too, as did Chelsea.
Chelsea
London… Leah… Leah. London. London. Leah. Leah. London.
you couldn’t say no to that, could you?
Many thoughts ran through your mind.
should you or should you not?
do you want to or do you not?
Would Leah still love you or not?
Normally, you immediately would talk to her, thinking about the pros and the cons, what your heart was telling you to do.
But this time your heart was torn apart into two pieces. On piece was blue: with the opportunities you had at Chelsea - Champions League, winning titles, fellow English teammates, amazing staff,… The other piece was red: yelling, fighting and begging to wait, maybe Arsenal would offer something, some day. Would Leah be mad at you? She‘s been a gunner since she was little.
-
After many sleepless nights, you did the only right thing.
You signed with the Blues.
Leah wouldn’t be mad at you, would she? Your career is important to her too. She just couldn’t be mad. She loved you and you loved her.
Sun and moon.
Salt and pepper.
day and night.
black and white.
red and blue.
It would be fine, right?
-
Leaving the airport was a relief. You were finally back in England.
The great news was that Leah happily agreed to pick you up from the airport, still fully convinced that you had signed with the gunners.
The bad news was that you didn‘t and you still needed to tell her that you signed with the blue rival.
You were tense, nervous even. The defender not sensing any of that as she was in such a bliss of your presence and touch, her hand holding yours tightly as she drove to her apartment - her mind racing about moving in together.
-
The first hour in Leah’s apartment was spent with kisses and cuddling on the couch, trying to catch up the time you spent apart.
"Do you want something to eat, my love? I could make you something. I‘m sure you‘re hungry from the flight" she smiled, her fingers tracing patterns on your back.
"Yes please, but no ham sandwich" you giggled, the blonde gasping before pressing an gentle kiss to your forehead.
As you sat alone on the couch for a few minutes, you realized that you had to tell her now. Or wouldn’t ever tell her - too afraid of her reaction.
Standing up, you grabbed something, wrapped in wrapping paper, out of your backpack.
Please don’t kill me
Please don’t break up with me
"Love, dinner is almost ready." the girl smiled, proudly stating that nothing‘s burned.
"Leah, could we talk about something first?" you fidgeted with your fingers.
"Yes, of course. I actually wanted to talk to you about something too! Do you want to move in with me?" She was so excited, her smile wider than it was in a long time. Your heart fluttered.
"I‘d love that, but maybe you‘d like to open this first" you stated, your voice low as you tried to be cool, calm and collected.
Skeptically, she looked at you - you‘re nervous, "What‘s this?" she asked, already opening the gift.
"What the fuck ist that!" the gunner growled, seeing the Chelsea jersey, "are you trying to be funny!" she questioned, a scowl on her face as she stared at the 'Williamson' on the back.
"No" you whispered - now or never.. "I signed with Chelsea, Leah. And I‘d like to play with your- soon also my name on the back"
"WHAT!" She shouted, outraged by the thought of you in blue, hurt by thought of you not being in red.
"Arsenal didn’t offer me a contract and that‘s okay because I’m still here, back with you" you said, trying to lighten the mood.
Failing miserably.
"I‘d rather not see you at all than seeing you in blue!" she yelled, her fists clenching at her sides. How could you do that? How could play for the one club the despised the most.
Was her loyalty a joke to you? Was her childhood club a joke to you?
"You don’t mean that" you said, trying to convince yourself more than any other person.
"Oh, I absolutely do! Fly to wherever, I don’t care. And the audacity to think-" she laughed, "to think that you‘d play with the name Williamson on the back of a Chelsea shirt some day" turning off the stove, she walked around the counter, her face now serious as she glared at you like you had killed someone.
"Leave" she pointed at the door, "and just so you know, the invitation to move in has been rescinded"
your own anger started to bubble up now. You get it, she‘s mad, you expected her to be but to throw insults like at you? That wasn‘t okay. Angrily, you grabbed your bagpack, your suitcases still in Leah‘s car, something you‘d worry about later as you put on your shoes while the blonde still grumbled to herself about how reckless you were, that you didn‘t use your brain, questioning if you even had functional brain cells.
"You know what Leah, you‘re right. I wasn‘t using my brain. But not when I signed the contract but when I said yes to your proposal!" yanking down the engagement ring, you shoved it against her chest.
And as soon as you had slammed the door, the tears were spilling out of your eyes.
This was not the way you expected everything to happen nor did you want it that way.
In short: Leah Williamson was obviously furios but actually it was just a facade that she became aware of as soon as you had left the house. She was deeply hurt.
Deeply hurt by the fact that you had let her think she‘d be finally playing side by side with the love of her life. Because she was so excited, she had already planned everything through. This was everything she had ever wanted.. and now, it‘s gone.
You were gone.
Added to that, your last comment ripped her heart out, smashed it to the ground and stomped on it.
Fuck! Did you really just broke up with her?
Why was she stupid?! Why couldn’t she react normal, like every other person would have! Her stupid pride was in the way, once again.
She wanted to run after you. She really wanted to, but her legs wouldn’t move. It was too late.
You were gone.
she couldn't have caught up to you even if she wanted to.
Panic.
Panic, panic, panic.
Tears.
More tears.
Everything was too much.
She tried to call you.
No answer.
She texted.
Not even delivered.
Fuck.
"Mum, I-" she hiccuped in the speaker, "I fucked up and" her sobs were getting louder and louder, she didn‘t want to say it out loud, "and I think she broke up with me"
-
Within a few minutes Amanda let herself in in her daughters home.
She found Leah crying on the couch, sobbing violently while she typed something on her phone.
"Y/n-" her head snapped up, disappointed when she saw her mum instead of you, "oh, it‘s you" she whispered, wiping away the tears which didn’t help much as new tears streamed down.
"You wanna tell me what happened?" Amanda asked as she took a seat beside her daughter, arms wrapping around.
As soon as her mother hugged her the defender broke down once again, clinging onto her mother. Her heart was broken. She had broken your heart, so you broke hers in return. She deserved this. She‘s been nothing but an arse.
Once Leah had calmed down, she started to tell the story, every detail, every snarky comment she had left. She wasn‘t proud of her behavior. "I don‘t know what I was thinking. it just happened. I‘m so sorry. I love her"
"You need to apologize to her, not to me"
"I don’t know where she is! If she‘s safe or- I don‘t know, mum" she was desperate. The tears started to get less and less yet the broken heart very much felt.
"I‘ve been dreaming of this wedding since I’m 16! Do you know how often I imagined her being a Williamson? Every day, mum, every fucking day."
-
Around midnight her mum left, Leah promising her that she would call if she needed anything.
The only thing she needed was you, though.
She had to make things right, she couldn’t throw an over a decade going relationship away. Not when it was a relationship with you. The girl she loved more than anything in this world. The girl she would quit football for if she had to. She would walk to Antarctica if that would bring you back to her, back home.
Unknown to her, you weren‘t far away, just around the corner of her house actually.
When you left the house, you didn‘t know where to go. You didn‘t want to call any of your friends because you would have had to explain the situation and in that moment, you didn’t have the strength to do so.
In that moment, you needed to be alone. Your thoughts were running in every direction, trying to escape reality. Did you really broke up with Leah? Or had she broken up with you? You couldn’t tell. All you knew was that your heart hurt and felt empty. You waited ages for this day, to finally see Leah and it ended like this. One hour of bliss, more hours of horror. This couldn’t be the end, could it?
It was Leah and you.
There‘s never been You without Leah or Leah without You.
The picture of Leah‘s face haunted you. It seemed like her world collapsed when you gave her the ring. Were you overreacting? Your feelings were valid. She couldn’t just go crazy, tell you to fuck off and then expect to be happily ever after.
But even though, you‘re feelings were hurt in one of the worst ways possible, you couldn’t just give up. This was Leah. You knew Leah. You knew that it had to be deeper.
And when you saw her mum‘s car pulling up in the driveway, you knew that Leah was a wreck. The blonde was tough on the outside but on the inside, she was this sweet charming sensitive girl who adored to love and to be loved. And the fact that it hadn’t even been 20min before Amanda was at her apartment, surely meant something.
-
Standing at the front door, you thought about leaving again. Amanda had only left like 5 minutes ago, but you didn’t want to be outside any longer. It was dark and cold. And all you wanted was to be with Leah. You couldn’t just leave the things at where they were, that wasn’t like you.
So here you were, still fighting an inner battle if to knock on the door or not.
Yet you did.
Your love for the blonde defender was stronger than any pride right now.
A little spot in your mind hoped that she wouldn’t open the door, afraid to be confronted.
The gunner was shocked when she saw you standing there. Her eyes wide, the tear stains visible, cat caught her tongue.
Her next reaction was hugging you like her life depended on it and you did just the same. "I love you, I love you, I love you" you heard her whisper, not making any attempt of letting you go any time soon. She needed this.
You both needed it.
After what felt like forever, she pulled back, her hands cupping your face, thumbs caressing your cheeks, "you��re safe" her eyes checked for any sign of injury or discomfort, "I‘m okay" you confirmed.
"Let us talk, okay? I love you. I promise not to explode like that again. I love you so much" a single tear escaped her eye. You were quick to gently wipe it away, the blonde relaxing under your touch.
"Do you think I could get something from the dinner you made earlier?" you shyly smiled, your stomach growling. The lioness let out a breathy relieved laugh, nodding, "anything you want, my love." Without thinking she pressed a kiss to your forehead, pulling you into the kitchen.
There was an awkward silence while she re-heated up the dinner yet happily doing so. This was a good sign, wasn’t it?
Once finished, she placed the plate of food in front of you, "Do you want to be left alone while you eat? I‘ll be in the bedroom, you can call me whenever you‘re ready" she was already turning, ready to give you some space when you grabbed her wrist, "please stay"
-
"Thank you for dinner, it tasted great" you smiled. Leah returned your smile shyly, cheeks turning red.
"Um, and I guess we should talk, yes?"
she nodded slowly, "yes. I think it‘s really important that we share all of our thoughts and listen to each other before reacting to something said, is that okay with you? I know it‘s my fault it blew up earlier but I’d really like to apologize and let you understand what was going through me. And I want to understand your side of the story too and not cut you off in the middle of the sentence. I know my behavior earlier was very childish, I won’t let that happen again." gently she squeezed your hand, reassuring as well as promising you that she was ready to behave like a grown woman, like the woman you fell in love with.
"Would you like to start?"
"Yes, that would be very nice"
-
After hours of conversation, apologizing and exchanging thoughts, feelings and insecurities, you both came to a conclusion that worked for the both of you:
1. Leah promised to never ever treat you like that again. She respected you, she really did and she would forever try to show you that
2. always listen to each other before speaking! Communication is key.
3. Leah promised to cook dinner for two whole months as a sign of her remorse, also she offered a thousand kisses and more.
4. You promised Leah to never let her in the dark.
5. Moving in together seemed perfect.
Later that night, or rather in the early morning hours, you laid in bed together, you were snuggled up in Leah‘s side, your head resting on her chest as she played with your hair.
"I can hear your brain working, my love, what‘s the matter?" you asked gently, resting your chin on your hand, so could look at her - your finger seemed so empty.
With a quick motion, you sat on her lap, the blonde now sitting up as well, "I love you" gently, she took your hand in her own, holding it a way that had your hand facing her.
She didn‘t say anything, but pressing a feather light kiss on your ring finger. You got the silent message, plead even.
"yeah, I’d love to have my ring back" you smiled, the lionesses already reaching for it on her nightstand.
"I can’t wait for you to be a Williamson" she admired as she put the ring on its original place.
"Me neither"
Ps. Leah Williamson still didn‘t like Chelsea and she never would but she learned to love the colour blue - because it was you - even more when the name Williamson was displayed on the back.
No matter the colour, Leah Williamson would always loved you.
Though learning to love the colour blue was a process, she still begged you wear her red Arsenal jersey every now and then.
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cottonlemonade · 5 months ago
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Alone At The Library
word count: 2342 || avg. reading time: 10 mins.
pairing: university AU rival!Akaashi x chubby!Reader
genre: fluff, rivals to lovers
warnings: implications of financial struggles
request: small pineapple lemonade with extra ice for Akaashi || fluffy accidental confession with rival Akaashi
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In desperate need of escaping the academic and social pressure of a top university, Akaashi convinced his parents that it would not be the end of the world if he went to one a little outside of Tokyo instead. It was far less prestigious, of course, and few people had ever heard of it. But in the end, his air-tight argumentation had won them over and he had moved into his dorm in a neighboring prefecture. The university he chose had a surprisingly good literary program with shockingly bad libraries. For months now the main library on campus was under construction with no indication of anyone ever working on it and so the students were forced to fan out to the smaller libraries in the surrounding neighborhoods to find the volumes necessary for their field.
Akaashi stretched his neck and winced when it popped. He would have loved to take the stack of books next to him to the dorms but the small town library he had chosen was so miserably equipped that they couldn‘t afford to let the few academic publications they carried leave the premises. The essay he was pondering over was a lot trickier than he had anticipated and if he didn‘t hand it in by tomorrow he‘d get a failing grade by default. And so, resigning himself to his fate, he shuffled to the lobby to get a paper cup of watery coffee from the old vending machine, ready to make the most of it until closing time.
When he returned to his spot at the long, somehow always mysteriously sticky table he frowned. He could have sworn there was a book missing. Confused and thinking his exhausted mind must be playing tricks on him he looked around but besides the elderly woman at the reception, deeply engrossed in a well-read paperback with a questionable title, there was no one else around. Akaashi bent down to look through his bag, considering he might have absently put it away, and shot back up a moment later when a pair of chubby legs in very familiar, frayed sneakers walked past on the other side, heading towards the opposite end of the table and he heard the unmistakable sound of books being somewhat carelessly dropped onto the surface.
His mood darkened. Pretending you couldn‘t see him, you placed your backpack on the chair next to you and withdrew a tattered notepad, pencil case, and water bottle, reaching for the first book. Once you opened it, he noticed the cover.
You didn‘t even have the decency to look ashamed when he came over. “What do you think you‘re doing?“, he asked.
“What does it look like?“, you replied, your tone pointedly bored as you flipped through the pages.
“I was working with this book.“
“Really? Looked to me like you were done with it.“
“I only went to get a coffee.“, he pressed out through his teeth, “And it lay open next to my paper. How much more in use could it have been?“
“Listen, you have a whooole stack next to you. Why don‘t you use those until I‘m done, hm?“
You had the audacity to give him a very fake bright smile.
He hated that he didn’t immediately have another comeback. Biting the inside of his cheek he thought but ultimately knew there was no point in arguing with you. Any wall would be more susceptible.
“20 minutes.“, he said coldly, “Then you‘ll give it back.“
“Sure thing, pretty boy.“, you said sarcastically, placed the book demonstratively in front of you, and began taking notes. As he walked away you added lazily, “You misspelled “embarrassing“ in your second paragraph. - Ironically.“
As he sat back down, feeling his blood pressure steadily rising in your presence, he felt a pang of annoyance when he saw you were right.
“Time‘s up.“ Exactly 20 minutes later, Akaashi stepped next to you once again. He reached out for the book but you held it tightly, scribbling away. “Just take a picture and work with that.“, he suggested irritably.
“Battery died.“, you only replied without taking your eyes off the paragraph or stopping to write.
For a couple of moments he just stood next to you, hoping to bring you out of context for one, but also maybe come up with a solution for your problems. There was a lot of cross-referencing involved in his paper. Taking pictures would most likely take longer than just looking it all through in his case.
“Maybe we can share it.“, he said eventually.
You looked up and raised a highly doubtful brow.
“I know,“, he suppressed the urge to roll his eyes, “but if we both need it right now that feels like the only way.“
After a moment‘s thought you moved your backpack from the chair to make space for him and continued your work.
He scoffed inwardly. Obviously, you expected him to move to you, but not wanting to risk another argument he gave in and went to collect his things.
It was by no means a perfect solution but at least there was minimal fighting. You were even considerate enough to only hold the page open at a 90 degree angle so he could continue reading on the page he was on, which he conceded was rather civil of you.
The late summer sun was ready to turn in and through the windows offered little support with grayish golden light.
“Okay, you two. It‘s time to pack up for today.“, the elderly woman announced. Instinctively, Akaashi checked his phone for the time. It made sense that the small library closed at 6 but he was so used to the convenience of the business hours of Tokyo’s city center that it caught him off guard nonetheless.
“Just another hour?”, you pleaded from the seat next to him, your voice sweet and genuine. He never heard it like that before.
The elderly woman pursed her lips apologetically, “I’m sorry, dearie. But we open tomorrow at 9, you can come straight back then.”
Akaashi looked down at his unfinished paper. 9 a.m. was his deadline. And judging by your barely legible notes, you were also in a hurry to finish up an assignment. You began putting your things away and looked confused when he grabbed your wrist to stop you.
“Gimme a moment.”, he said and got up.
You watched with rising curiosity how he rounded the corner of the table and began talking with the woman. They were too far away to hear clearly but she laughed and playfully waved him off. He kept on talking for about another thirty seconds before she laughed - no, not laughed. Giggled. Then she rummaged in her purse, produced a set of very jangly keys, and, unclipping one of them, handed it to him. Your jaw dropped when she waved Goodbye to you past his shoulder. With a small satisfied grin, he returned to you and plopped down on the chair, going back to the book as if nothing happened. Evidently, you weren’t gonna let it slide and stared at him until he talked.
“Don’t look at me like that. I just got us VIP access.”, he held up the key, “We can stay as long as we want. Just have to lock up after and leave the key under that clay owl at the entrance.”
“How did you even…?”, you asked, impressed.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I just asked nicely, that’s all.”
“Uh huh.”
“You have your ways,”, he pointed to the book you previously swiped from him, “and I have mine.”
“Whatever you say, pretty boy.”
As a child, Akaashi would have done anything to spend a night alone in a manga café. He would have practically glowed at the prospect of squinting for hours at the text bubbles and admiring the details in the panels. Now that he got glasses, the squinting was gone, but his love of reading was still as strong as ever and even though it wasn’t an exciting manga in front of him or a café that kept him fed with ramen and other junk food he still felt a deep sense of joy to spend time alone in a library. Well, almost alone. A loud growling of your tummy ripped him from his nostalgia.
He had completely forgotten about the time. “Maybe we should order some food.”, he said, reaching into his pocket and taking out his wallet to check how much cash he had. He doubted the delivery services this far out all came equipped with card readers. Scrolling through the handful of delivery services in the area, he asked, “What are you in the mood for?”
He was about to lay out your options when you shook your head. From somewhere in your backpack you produced a slightly squished onigiri. It was from a convenience store with a bright red sticker announcing that it had been on sale due to the close expiration date. His eyes fell onto your notepad once again, densely covered in scribbles, not wasting a single centimeter of space. The scratches and dents in your metal pencil case suggested that it had been with you for a long time. He tried to remember ever seeing you during the many social events the university offered. But whenever the class suggested going out for dinner you made excuses of studying or having to part-time. He knew you were a scholarship student but he just figured it was because of your excellent grades since you two usually fought for the top score of the year, not for a lack of money.
Akaashi looked down at his wallet again.
“I can just pay for both of us, no problem.”, he offered and was shocked when that earned him a dagger-filled glare.
“No thank you.”, you said sharply and bit into the rice ball.
He shrugged. “Fine. Suit yourself.” After ordering a large pizza for himself, he put his phone away again, going back to working silently by your side. The book that had started the alliance was pushed out of the way at this point and you were each going through separate materials.
About half an hour passed before his phone buzzed, letting him know the pizza was waiting out front and when he returned the tempting smell of cheese and freshly baked bread filled the air. With a slice, heavily laden with different toppings, in one hand, Akaashi went back to checking the notes he had taken since his arrival, sifting out the truly important and highlighting the ones he wanted to add to his paper. Your stomach grumbled again and your hand automatically went to cover it. He pretended not to notice it, but a grin slowly formed on his lips with each new noise coming from you. He heard you swallow quietly and caught you glancing at the pizza every so often. He took his second piece, adding a little hum of culinary delight to the mix.
Once a third of the pizza was gone and you still hadn‘t said anything he was beginning to worry his idea hadn‘t worked, so he swerved to plan B. Leaning back in his chair he patted his stomach, a small bump indicating he was stuffed. “Hey, can you do me a favor?“
“When have I ever been known to do that?“
Akaashi ignored your comment.
“I think I was being too greedy. There is no way I can finish this thing on my own.“
With a sidelong look at him, you raised a brow. “I‘m not a child. I know what you‘re doing.“
“And what is it that I‘m doing?“, he asked, innocently but with a definite challenge to his voice.
You were about to call out his obvious scheme when you wondered if it wouldn‘t sound too egotistical to say that he wanted to share from the beginning. What if he really only miscalculated his hunger? And letting a fresh (and free) pizza go to waste was basically a crime.
Wordlessly, you reached past him and pulled the box over so it was sitting between you. The first bite was heaven and you chewed carefully to savor the taste. Very satisfied with himself, Akaashi began adding his notes to his paper. Whilst nibbling at the crust you slid a book to him.
You tapped a paragraph near the bottom of the page. “Here, this is your topic, right?“
He quickly skimmed it and nodded. The title of the book didn‘t suggest that it had anything to do with his research.
“It seemed promising, maybe it can give your paper that last little bit of extra.”
He wanted to thank you out of reflex but instead said with a teasing tone, "What, you like me now?"
“I tolerate you.“, you said loftily, taking a second slice.
Akaashi mimicked you under his breath, of course still loud enough for you to hear, “I tolerate you.“
You both laughed.
“Can I ask you something?“
You nodded and took another bite.
“Why do you hate me?“
“I don‘t hate you.“, you said without wasting a single breath.
“Huh, you sure about that?“, he chuckled.
“Kinda. Like… 80% sure, I‘d say.“
“And what are the other 20%?“
Choosing to focus on the pizza, you shrugged.
“I‘d dislike anyone who is smart, handsome and kind.“
“You think I‘m handsome?“, he asked immediately, making you clear your throat and look away. He was having a great time.
“Oh, don‘t pretend you don‘t know you‘re dreamy.“, you said with playful annoyance, “Why do you think I call you pretty boy?“
“Is that so?“
With your cheeks turning very red very quickly you took a new book from your stack and opened it to a random page. Picking up your pen, you began taking notes again.
He watched you for a bit, impressed by your dedication, then asked, “Interesting book?“
“Uh huh.“
Akaashi reached for it and turned it around.
“Then I bet it‘s gonna be even better when it‘s right side up.“
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art: @ui536
a/n: thank you so much for your request and I apologize that it's taking me 6-8 business weeks to reply to requests by now. I hope you enjoyed it @toomanygoldfish
And a special thank you to @haikyu-mp4 for listening to me rant about this piece for way too long.
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dragonnarrative-writes · 1 month ago
Text
Data Breach
Read on AO3
Word count: 12.8k
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Alternatively titled "Lockdown."
CW: Public partial-nudity, references to sex work, Kidnapping, implied trafficking, threats of violence, anxiety/panic, body horror, brief mentions of medical trauma, character being hunted, brief mention of cannibalism, guns, knives
Notes: Naya "Bambi" Walker and Veronica "Bricks" Mason are my characters. Morgan "Sparrow" Voss belongs to @sentientcave.
I'm very excited because this is my first "complete" fic. And I wrote it within my first year of posting fanfiction! Thanks to everyone who has been here with me through it all!
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The genetic and cybernetic enhancements that the public took for granted were a drop in the bucket. No one protested the same-day medical procedures for aesthetics and practicality and security. What harm is a microchip to automate one’s home, modified musculature that needed less exercise to maintain? Who was ever going to protest genetically coded locking mechanisms?
Soldier modifications are a violation of human rights. The deployment of those soldiers isn’t, unless they use their enhanced abilities to commit a war crime. But the process of modification, experimental and unregulated, driven by greed, desperation, a cold war that bled and screamed…
In the early days of accelerated genetics, on the heels of the prosthetic revolution, things had been hellish. Rejected limb grafts.    Explosively contagious viral infections previously rare in humans. Incompatible bones and organs and structures drowning experimental groups in their own fluids. Hunting and prey drives that only became apparent on the battlefield.
The deployment of modified soldiers isn’t a violation of human rights. But if even a single civilian is caught in the crossfire, it’s a war crime.
What the governments of the world did to the men and women who served them - and the populations they were supposed to serve - was a flood of destruction that led to international court-martial and proposed executions.
Only proposed though.
Naya, green around the gills from her latest information dive, wonders if maybe those proposals had more merit than she’d initially thought.
The files she found about the modified joint task forces, the Ghost Team JTFs, are more horrifying than anything she’s ever seen. Bone and dental removal, replacement, and additions. Brain implants, deeper and more invasive than most civilian interface units, which go just under the skin. Increased metabolism, shortening of the digestive tract, automatic injectors with stim packs that keep soldiers awake and lucid through unimaginable horrors.
Her hands shake, spilling tea leaves on the counter as she disconnects from her VPN network. She’d stumbled upon the initial files surrounding what had been Task Force 141 days ago, had quickly skimmed and duplicated their contents to read and review on her own time. Those had been bad enough. Reading about a Scottish soldier, shot in the head and brought back only to have his body altered. Another sergeant suspended in a tank as his genetically altered body attempted and failed to process all of the poisons they wanted him resistant to. A lieutenant who’s frontal lobe was hacked through to make room for a larger processor. The Captain captured and tortured and changed for investigating what was happening to his unit…
And that was before the videos.
Finding more information on Ghost Teams is virtually impossible. Official reports, even the ones she breaks into, list the 141 as defunct. Her fellow archivists don’t have any other information, and aren’t willing to help her dive again.
>>>Flower: even if the GTs are still alive >>>Flower: it’s too dangerous >>>Flower: too many powers want them to stay buried >>>Flower: we’ll lose everything if we go digging >>>Bambi: you don’t have any contacts i could ask? >>>Flower: i‘m sorry bambi
There’s more security, when she returns to the original server, too much for her to feel comfortable to try to force her way in. Her bots identify a couple of devices on the network that might be exploitable - a printer, two coffee machines - but she leaves them alone, for now.
Instead, she trawls conspiracy theory forums for any mention of experimental modifications, missing soldiers, and questionable medical equipment shipments. Experience means her bots filter through everything, which saves her more than a few headaches, but also means that she waits hours before a possible hit. And that hit is a dead end.
The hours turn to days before she’s able to find an abandoned, locked forum with deleted answers to heavily coded questions. The last post is seven years old, ostensibly informing community members of upcoming changes to the forum. The veil over the warning of government surveillance is thinner than tissue paper.
It’s the closest thing she has to a lead, so she makes a new post and sets her bots to monitor it.
>>18|\/|48(Guest): GTJTFs producing new 141 units? Leaked production reports, new specs?
She doesn’t expect a response, but maybe an auto-responder will give her a clue of where to look next. So it’s jarring when she gets an encrypted email with a reply from “[email protected],” an hour later.
new units? have info on old units if you need references. let me know.
The middle city isn’t the safest, for all that the well-to-dos topside like to pretend that the truly unsavory elements aren’t that close to their picturesque lawns. Naya’s lived here her whole life, though she’s worked above a time or two. Even so, she’s never ventured this close to the freight shafts down to the docks.
The bar she steps into is loud and smells like liquor and motor fluid. It’s dim, and smoky, and she feels eyes on her as she makes her way to the bar. Her interface lights up with pings and an attempted ID and bank chip skim. All they get for their trouble is her least informative ID tag - Bambi.
The bartender, a large bodied person with the simple tag of Engine, operates behind the bar with four cybernetic arms. There’s no digital queue for her to log in to, or even a service request button on the seemingly organic wood bar. So she stands, hands folded on top of the bar for them to finish pouring drinks and notice her standing there.
Just as the barkeep’s attention slides her way, a warm body presses up behind hers. She stiffens as a the person jostles her to lean heavily on the bar. “Eng! Another for me. And whatever my cute new friend wants.”
A refusal is on the tip of her tongue, but when she looks up into slitted yellow eyes haloed by curled black and purple freeform locs, she gets an encrypted message.
>>>Bricks: Hello Bambi. >>>Bricks: Order a drink and come with me.
"They shouldn't be locked up. They're people, not mindless killing machines."
Across the table, under the dim lights, the woman called Bricks cocks her head. She’s a true cyborg, someone who’s modifications are probably keeping them alive. The cybernetics of her left arm extending well into her ribcage. She doesn’t hide it. Under dark overclothes, a slouching shirt exposes the metal of her collarbones, the servos that whir as she breathes. She swirls her glass of Jack and Coke with an amused look on her face as a barely muffled moan pierces through loud music.
Naya takes a deep breath to keep from fidgeting. It took three months to arrange even this meeting with the elusive American arms dealer, in the back of this dingy bar on a busy Friday. She wasn't about to lose the lead just because she could hear lewd comments and barely muffled squeals of pleasure from the nearby hall to the washrooms. The more concerning noise was coming from behind her, anyhow, the thump of knives into a dart board, distressed beeping from the unlucky mini-droid bound to the target.
"You want me to set up a meeting with the Watcher," Bricks drawls, sitting back in her chair. Her pointed cybernetic nails drum against the table. She doesn’t bother to whisper, but both of them have been disrupting any listening devices in range. "So you can make sure that Price's monsters are being treated humanely?"
"They're not monsters," Naya hisses.
"You've never seen them." It's not a question.
"I don't need to see them to know they shouldn't be kept locked in cages."
Bricks freezes with her glass halfway to her lips. Her eyes narrow. “Cages?”
“That’s what I saw.” Gritting her teeth, Naya hisses. “Look. You know what it means to be augmented, what extensive modifications are like. But without anesthesia? I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, not even my worst enemy.”
“You’d be surprised what I would wish on my worst enemy, sweetheart.” Bricks chuckles and throws back the last dregs of her drink. "But you know what? Fine."
"Fine?"
"Fine. You want in so bad? I'll set up a meeting with the Watcher, and Price."
Well. That was easier than expected. "What'll it cost me?"
"Oh, your whole life, probably. Your whole world view, certainly," Bricks chuckles. She gives Naya an obvious once over, gaze lingering on her breasts. "But you don't owe me any more than a quick flash of your tits."
That does make Naya’s confidence falter. "W-what?"
"You heard me. C'mon, give me a little peek, and I'll send a message right now. You can have Price's monsters off their leashes by the end of the week." Bricks grins, slit pupils pulsing wide with interest. "We don't even have to go anywhere, just pull down your shirt a little bit."
"I'm not..." Naya looks around, furtively. "This isn't exactly priv-" She flinches as she's interrupted by a loud moan, followed by a cheer from the rest of the bar.
"You're asking me to let your hands get real dirty, sweetheart." Bricks stands and circles the table to crowd Naya against the wall. She dips down to breathe into her ear. "And unless you want word to spread of a cute, clean cut, little topsider digging into illegal soldier mods, you're gonna pull your tits out and take the money I give you, after, Bambi."
There’s something behind the predatory look in the taller woman’s eyes. A challenge. She’s called Naya’s bluff, hasn’t she? When she refuses, Bricks will send her off with a laugh and a pat on her ass. And she’ll be back at square one, unable to face the danger of diving deeper again.
But Naya’s never been accused of knowing when to back down.
It’s the work of a moment to have the various video feeds in the room start a ten second loop. Her bots use movement patterns to make the video seem natural to anyone not looking closely. Bricks makes an interested noise when the video feed from her cybernetic eye continues showing Naya’s darting eyes and regular breaths. Her organic eye takes in the way Naya’s hands come up to unclasp the front of her shirt.
She takes a deep breath before hooking her fingers into the neck of her undershirt. She looks down as she inches it down to reveal the scalloped edge of her bra, instead of looking to see if Bricks is aroused or amused or some other, worse thing.
Before she can truly expose herself, a warm hand touches her wrist. “So eager. Not even gonna give me a little tease?”
>>>Bricks: Nice trick with the cameras, but you’re going to call attention.
Naya tips her chin up and immediately regrets it when Bricks leans down to meet her. Her breath shivers between their lips. When a metal arm comes up to block her view of the rest of the room, she turns her face away.
>>>Bambi: It’d be more suspicious if I let everyone have a clip for distribution.
“Smart girl,” Bricks whispers against her temple. “Take the credits.”
The fund transfer Bricks initiates has a public comment attached. ‘Classy. Could almost be the real thing.’ Naya glares up at Brick’s smirking face as she accepts the transaction. Two hundred. It feels like too little and too much money at the same time. Almost immediately, she gets inquiry pings from six other patrons the bar.
“And that’s your alibi,” Bricks chuckles, stepping back so quickly that she barely has time to put herself to rights. “Let’s go, sweetheart.”
Naya tries not to fidget in the freight elevator, down, down, down, into The Throat. Bricks's arm is a possessive weight on her shoulder. On the other side of the lift, a startlingly tall man stares at them through the holes in a cloth sack. When she meets his eyes, something writhes where his mouth should be.
"Eyes to yourself," Bricks growls when he takes a half step in their direction. Her cybernetic arm crackles warningly.
The man visibly considers his options before making a guttural sound. A thick appendage, tongue or tentacle, Naya can’t really tell, pokes out from under the hood. He mutters something she doesn’t understand in under-tongue. Bricks hisses something back, pushing Naya behind her as she takes a threatening step forward. The man flinches, then crowds himself into his corner. He doesn’t even look in their direction for the rest of the descent.
When the doors open, Bricks holds her back until the man leaves, then steers her out into the street. Naya's been under-city before, but not in this bloc. The air is just as stale and hazy as she remembers, but this shaft doesn't see as much vertical commuter traffic as some of the others, so the street is dark instead of lit with neon. The faintest bit of light filters down from straight above.
Groping for something to say, she asks, "Did you know that guy?"
Bricks snorts, keeping an arm around her's waist as she steers her along. "Yeah."
“What did he want?”
She gets an uninterested shrug. “The same thing any bottom dwelling opportunist wants.”
It’s not hard to imagine what she means. When she doesn't say anything else, Naya searches for another topic. She swallows her pride and forces herself to say, "Thank you for setting up this meeting."
"Don't thank me yet, sweetheart. You're gonna hate me soon enough."
"I know it's dangerous for you," she insists as Bricks draws her down a side street. Dangerous is an understatement, if the Ghost Teams are so far gone that they’re experimenting on human beings. "Even if things are hard, moving forward, I appreciate your help."
Bricks doesn't answer. Instead, she knocks on a barred door. It opens a crack, and she and the other person hiss low words at each other. A shining green eye looks Naya up and down, the door shuts, and Bricks draws her away.
They stride, briskly, back to the main street. Bricks asks, "Do you have a respirator?"
"Yes."
"Put it on, don't speak."
Wordlessly, Naya unfolds the mask from her pocket and covers her mouth and nose. Bricks pulls a dark scarf from her shoulders and wraps it around Naya’s head and neck, and then drops a poncho over her head. Somehow, the mercinary looks bigger in just her thin shirt, the muscles and metal in her shoulders more pronounced.
Ten minutes into their silent walk, a man melts from the shadows and starts walking on Naya's other side. Though she can’t see much under his baggy clothes, his gait speaks to digitigrade modifications. When she glances up, he has a faceplate under his own hood. His voice, when he speaks, is robotic. "Bricks."
"Roach."
“You’re looking smug and determined.”
“I’m on a very… interesting job.” An encrypted message gets passed between the two of them, and Naya frowns behind her mask. She shouldn’t be able to tell that a message was sent, though, so she bites her tongue. Bricks smirks down at her, then turns her eyes forward. “What’s on your mind?”
"Shadows are hunting you. Seven thousand credits."
"That's insulting," Bricks dismisses. "Mace take the job?"
"That's insulting," Roach parrots back. Somehow, his metered and inflectionless voice sounds amused. A flurry of encrypted messages flows between them. Once those have finished, he says, "Come see us when your business with the Watcher is done." And then he fades away into the shadows again.
"Good job," Bricks whispers. "Stay silent. Keep taking deep breaths. Walk straight ahead. Don't run." And then she ducks down a side street, leaving Naya alone in the dark.
Fuck.
She keeps putting one foot in front of the other. Measured. Brisk, but unhurried. A couple of people pass on the other side of the street, then a man passes on her side. Under her poncho, she palms her pocket knife, but no one spares her a second glance.
After a full minute, Bricks slides out of the next alley and falls into step with her, a cigarette that smells like real tobacco between her lips. In her cybernetic hand, she has a twitching, bleeding length of what looks like an octopus tentacle the size of Naya’s forearm.
"You can talk now,” she says. “But you don't want to ask about this."
The respirator makes a lot more sense when Naya is led to a shaft to the Belly.
She’s never been to the middle level of the true undercity. Technically, no one should live in this industrial level, so there’s very little in the way of individual commerce and amenities. There is an abundance of dead “topsider tourists” every year, mangled and hacked to drain all of their resources before anyone can realize that they haven’t come home.
This lift is much smaller, just big enough for her to stand behind Bricks as the woman primes her arm. The edge of a plasma knife glows blue from within the mechanics of her bicep. When Naya activates the plasma in her own knife, Bricks looks over her shoulder at the near silent hum.
“You ever use that before?”
“Once.”
That earns an interested noise as the other woman faces forward again. “On a person?”
“…No.”
“Well, there’s a first time for everything,” is all she says about that as the elevator shudders to a stop. “Stay behind my right arm. If I tell you to drop, you fall to the ground and don’t move until I tell you.”
When the door opens, it’s into a pitch black alley. The only light is the obscured gleam from with Brick’s left shoulder. Something in the darkness hisses. Bricks strides forward, and Naya has no choice but to follow after.
They walk for a few minutes without incident before Bricks knocks on a nondescript door. Next to it, a biometric scanner creaks open and scans one of her eyes, then one of her metal fingers. Naya flinches at the noise of a series of locks grinding open.
A stern faced blonde woman is on the other side of the door when Bricks gestures Naya inside. She’s not wearing a respirator, but then, neither is Bricks. The woman doesn’t say anything, so Naya doesn’t either. She just waits for Bricks to finish securing the door, then returns to her spot just behind her.
“Watcher,” Bricks greets with clear good humor. “I brought you a little something.”
Naya huffs a surprised breath from her nose, but stays silent. The Watcher. The overseer of at least one of five active Modified Task Forces. She looks so… normal. A woman in her mid forties, maybe, face lined with stress but open. Naya feels a little thrown off. When the lights flicker, however, she catches the red shine of a cybernetic eye. Whatever mods she has, they’re hidden so well that Naya can’t even sense them.
The Watcher’s eyes scan her for a moment before she’s looking back to Bricks. Naya only has a moment to wonder why she hasn’t been pinged before she asks, “Alive?”
“You always pay more when they’re alive.”
What? Naya stumbles backwards until she hits the door. “What?”
Bricks throws a grin over her shoulder. “I told you not to thank me.” Turning back to the Watcher, she says, “Thirty thousand credits. Had a run in with the King on the way here.”
“No one told you to bring her alive. Fifteen, and we void the Shadows bounty on you.”
“Twenty five. You want her alive, trust me. And I can handle the Shadows on my own.”
Naya gapes at the two of them. A quick glance over her shoulder and query to the door confirms that the locks won’t open again without a lot more force than she could manage, even if she wouldn’t have to fight Bricks to get out. And the Watcher… isn’t motivated to let her live. Fuck. The little knife in her hands feels less than useless.
“She wanted to meet you,” Bricks continues, crossing her arms. “And Price.”
That makes the Watcher pause and look over Naya again. “Oh?”
“She used his name,” Bricks confirms. “Real skilled code-breaker.”
“Hm.” The Watcher frowns, then says. “Thirty thousand is a low ball offer, then.”
“She thinks you’re keeping the task force in cages,” Bricks chuckles. “I want to watch when she sees them for the first time.”
That gets a huff of amusement. “Thirty thousand and a show… Deal. Bring her.”
When the Watcher turns away, Bricks looks back at Naya with a surprisingly gentle smile. “Good job. Now comes the hard part. Let’s go.”
“What’s going to happen to me?” she doesn’t want to walk forward, but there’s not much else to do. She tries to stand away from Bricks, but it’s hard in the narrow hallway.
“Nothing, now,” Bricks laughs. “Got you through the door alive, and Watcher can always use a code breaker.”
It’s hard not to feel stupid. Naya struggles to keep her voice even. “So this was just… a bounty for you?”
“Better me than König.” Bricks wiggles the tentacle that she’s still holding in metal fingers. “And better now than when an actual bounty was on your head. Diving into secure government information brings out the worst kind of trouble. The Shadows would have killed you in your bed. Kortac would have chipped you, if they decided keeping you was worth it. This way, everyone gets what they want.”
“Except me,” Naya points out.
“You’re still alive, for now,” the Watcher points out from a few steps ahead, without looking back. “Considering the problems you’ve caused me, it’s tempting to kill you myself. But Bricks is right. I can always use a Breaker.”
“I don’t do that professionally,” Naya protests weakly.
The Watcher doesn’t break stride. “You do, now.”
They get into another elevator, big enough for eight people. There aren’t any floor indicators, but as soon as the doors close, it starts to descend. Wrapping her arms around herself, Naya shivers. At this rate, she realizes, she may never see the sky again. She’ll be locked in a cage next to the 141, underground, let out to circumvent code for… what? To support more killing? More human experimentation? If she doesn’t cooperate, will they experiment on her? Put a processor in her brain to erase everything about her except for her skill?
Tears gather in the corners of her eyes, and she can’t help a sniffle.
“None of that,” comes the surprisingly gentle voice of the Watcher. When she approaches, she puts a gentle hand on Naya’s shoulder. “You’re here now. There’s no going back. But we take care of our own.”
Bricks snorts. “For given values of taking care of. You are keeping the boys in cages after all.”
“That’s not helpful,” the Watcher says, producing a tissue from her pocket and dabbing at Naya’s eyes. She pushes the makeshift hood back and gently removes her respirator, scanning her face with hard blue eyes. Eventually, she asks, “Why did you come here, Bambi?”
Shoulders coming up around her ears, Naya gets the feeling that because I’m an idiot isn’t the answer she’s looking for. She looks down at her sensible shoes, bracketed by the Watcher’s own worn work boots, and confesses, “Bricks said I could meet with you, and Price. And… I thought I could… encourage you to treat the modified soldiers more like people than animals.”
“And I suppose this encouragement was going to come with a threat to leak records to the public?” The Watcher’s mouth twitches into a sardonic smile when Naya looks up at her again. “Bold.”
Bricks chuckles. “Naive.”
“Hopeful. And some of the best plans are the simplest,” the Watcher dismisses.
Naya wouldn’t call her plan to connect to the building’s intranet and threatening to disrupt all of the life support systems “naive.” Now that she’s locked in, it feels like a distinctly hopeless course of action. She’ll have to think of something else, fast.
The Watcher steps away as the elevator comes to a stop. The doors open into a large control room, huge observation windows giving a 360 degree view out into dimly lit halls. Bricks ushers Naya out, heavy hands on her shoulders, until she pushes her into a chair facing a window to the left side of the room.
“Did we miss feeding time?” Bricks grins and pulls a puzzle ball from her bag. Her cybernetic hand twitches and whirs as it clicks through combinations.
“Luckily for Bambi, yes.”
Before Naya can ask what feeding time entails, something drops from the ceiling on the other side of the glass, startling a yelp from her. It’s a man, tall and lean, slitted eyes shining a red orange as he stares at her face through the glass. He’s half dressed, only in loose pants. Thick, dark streaks of something wet cover his chest and splatter down his legs. The grin that splits his pretty face puts three pairs of sharp canines on display, stained red.
The Watcher pushes a button, an intercom. “Gaz.”
“Who’s this cute little thing, Laswell?” Naya shivers as Kyle “Gaz” Garrick looks her up and down. He looks just like his personnel file, except for a wildness around his eyes that changes his face from welcoming to something dangerous. “Could practically smell her from the street.”
“Back away from the glass, you’re filthy. What the hell did you roll in?”
The man ignores the Watcher, face going soft as he leans down to get on a level with Naya. “Hello, honey. Such a pretty girl, what are you doing down here? You a friend of Bricks?”
Something about his crooning voice makes Naya’s hair stand on end. At the same time, she finds that she can’t look away from the man’s eyes as he tilts his head. They’re such an interesting color, and he keeps shifting ever so slightly in ways that draw her eyes to follow. He jerks quickly to one side when her eyes dip down to the red and brown splashed down his chest, then smiles when she looks back at his face. His teeth - even the extra ones - are perfect and red. Naya’s heart beats a little faster.
A loud pop and sudden flash makes Naya jump as Gaz reels back with a snarl.
“I told you not to touch the glass,” the Watcher grumbles. “Clean up. Make yourself presentable. And remind the others to put their masks on.”
“Sir, yes, sir,” he hisses. With one last, sweet smile to Naya, he turns and strides away before leaping up to grab an exposed beam and hoist himself into the shadows above the observation room. He disappears in the space of a moment. No matter how Naya squints, she can’t tell where he’s gone.
“Don’t look any of them in the eye,” Bricks whispers from close behind, chuckling at the way Naya jumps. “They’re predators, sweetheart, and you’re the sweetest bite of prey they’ve had in a long while.”
“Bricks,” the Watcher (Laswell?) chides. “Get her keyed in. Bambi, you’re not to be alone in here. We’ll get you interfaced with security so you know how to do a lockdown sequence before you’re introduced to the Task Force.”
When she’s handed an interface chip, Naya blanches. “I can’t, I don’t have a hard disk reader. Why do I need to know the facility’s lockdown sequences?”
“There’s no where in this facility that they can’t get,” Bricks replies, distracted as she opens a floor panel to extract a series of wires, and what looks like a very robust integration cable. “And if you’re going to work here, you’re going to need to be able to keep them from dragging you off and eating you.”
“Bricks.” Laswell snaps. To Naya she explains,    “Everyone who works here needs to know how to lock down in case of emergency.”
Naya gapes. “Emergencies? They can - They’re not -! They have full access to the facility?”
“Of course. They can get out of the facility, too,” Bricks snickers. “Who’s going to stop them?”
“Bricks!”
“All of the records say that they’re severely restricted.” The tight squeak in Naya’s voice is undeniable. “What do you mean they could eat me?”
“Old records,” Laswell answers without looking. A terminal lights up under her fingertips. “The only way the SAS would let us keep the facilities without bomb chips. Let me know when you’re ready for input.”
“The part about eating me?” Naya flinches as Bricks circles behind and pushes her hair up to expose the port beneath her left ear.
“If you’re as good as I think you are, you don’t have to worry about that,” Bricks says, shoving the cable into place. “Go.”
“What-”
Laswell launches the integration before she can get the question out. Naya’s whole body jolts, brain flooded with sudden input. She doesn’t dive into the data so much as she’s dragged under the tidal wave of the facility.
The whole structure unfolds around her, five floors, twelve stories down, three shafts up, two elevators, one stair. She’s in the observation tower, which descends three more floors. Heat, cooling, air filtration, power, food storage, office of Watcher One Kate Laswell, office of Bravo One John Price, research labs east and south, conference rooms, break rooms, sleeping quarters, inventory, directory of personnel.
Access Denied.
It’s nothing to shuffle the alert away. Asset Records. Veronica “Bricks” Mason, Gary “Roach” Sanderson, Mason “Mace” Ward, [Redacted] Nikto, Morgan “Sparrow” Voss. The list goes on. Task Force 141. Kyle “Gaz” Garrick, John “Soap” MacTavish, John “Bravo One” Price, Simon “Ghost” Riley. Vital statistics steady, duplicate identification signals, three dead copies, one living set. Security, kill switch overrides. These doors won’t close, but they’ll tell the observation tower that they have. Interesting.
Diving a layer deeper, she observes three separate security records. One is distressingly familiar, the records she’d found before, that spurred her to find Bricks, full of echoes of old code, now that she can see it. Then the one with logs going to Watcher One Kate Laswell, current and accurate. Except that the third log indicates security discrepancies and pings to KGKLJMJPSR. She logs the discrepancy on her own, internal system, a reminder to see if she can piggyback on someone else’s clearance.
Now that she’s thinking about it, she scans for what her clearance is supposed to have access to. It’s the second level, the one that doesn’t actually close the security doors surrounding the servers, sleeping quarters, and the observation tower. Well, that won’t do. She makes a digital copy of KL’s access and patches it into her own.
Just as she finishes, four ID tags simply labeled “Ghost” enter the lowest observation tower floor. That’s a glaring red security alert, and it only doubles in urgency as he accesses the hatch to the system port cable.
“Oh, that’s bad,” she hears herself say aloud as she gropes, blindly for the cable in her neck. “Ghost is accessing, I need to disconnect before he-“
Three more security alerts come up as the ID tags for Bravo One, Gaz, and Soap appear around the top floor of the observation tower, their floor. Naya quickly circumvents the overrides on the blast doors, and half observes rolling shutters covering the windows as Laswell makes a startled noise. Unfortunately, Ghost finds her while she’s distracted.
And he is a ghost, sliding between the layers of Naya’s own security code like a cold breeze. He rifles through her ID cards before she can even try to lock down. When she tries to lock him out of her interface, he slams through so fast it sends her reeling. Unfortunately for him, and for her, he trips over her Brain Blast in the process. The packet of musical theater data explodes to override everything she’s connected to, knocking her out of her connection to the facility and blaring Ohmigod You Guys through the speaker systems of the facility.
“What the fuck,” Veronica Bricks Mason shouts, covering her ears.
“Sorry, sorry,” Naya yelps. She manually reopens her access to the facility and cuts the sound. Her head spins with new information that she doesn’t have time to let her organic brain process. Ghost is nowhere to be found, but she doesn’t wait around to see where he pops up again before locking herself down and physically removing the cable from her neck. “Ghost tripped my security protocol.”
“You shouldn’t be able to influence any part of the facility,” Watcher One Kate Laswell observes. “Which means you’re every bit as good as Bricks says you are. Why did you lock down the tower?”
“Just this floor,” she answers absently, looking around as her interface flashes and labels new data points about her surroundings. It takes a moment for her to filter through everything enough to focus. “Bravo One, Gaz, and Soap were approaching as Ghost tapped in on the bottom floor.”
“I should have charged more,” Asset:Mason chuckles.
“Maybe you should have, Veronica,” Naya replies without thinking.
The woman just laughs. “Oh ho ho, you’re even better than I thought.
Watcher One Laswell drums her fingers on the table. “You don’t have a hard disk reader. Can you still access the facility without a hard line?”
Naya has to shake her head before she runs a quick system check. A ping to the 141 Facility gets a happy little ping back. “Yeah. My, um… my interface is a bit more robust than standard.”
Watcher Laswell nods. “Noted. Reset the security settings.”
Naya almost does it on autopilot, but stops herself. Running a quick check, she shivers. “They’re still out there. Three of them.” When Laswell only nods, she nudges the blast doors and security shutters to open. It takes a moment, but eventually they start to rumble to life.
Worryingly, when she can see through the windows again, Bravo One, Gaz, and Soap are no where to be found. The only active vitals in the facility say they’re right across the glass from where Naya is sitting. It sends a chill down her spine. Diving through the facility systems, she had felt untouchable. But she’s been outmaneuvered again. Unless…
She stands and leans closer to the glass, looking up into the shadows above.
Three pairs of eyes shine down at her from the darkness.
“They’re up there,” Naya whispers. When Laswell simply answers in the affirmative, she activates the intercom with a gulp. “Um. I’m sorry about the noise.”
“That’s quite alright, sweetheart,” a deep voice answers. “Ghost has a way of startling pretty girls. And I quite like a bit of theater.”
Well it’s not Gaz, and there’s no hint of a Scottish accent. “Are you… Bravo One? John Price?”
“You are a clever one.” One of the pairs of eyes squints and tilts. Another shuts, and doesn’t open again. Soap’s tags move a short ways away as Price continues. “Bricks says you asked to meet me.”
“Yes, sir,” Naya says, and then remembers too late that Bricks said not to meet their eyes. She tears her eyes away and jumps at the sight of John “Soap” MacTavish standing a few feet down the hall in front of her.
He looks good, surprisingly so. His hair is long, braided mohawk shining. A gleaming scar is the only indication of the wound that almost killed him. He’s healthy, big and bulky and dressed casually in black joggers and a tight black tshirt. Bright blue eyes with crossed pupils scan her face with interest. When he grins at her, his sharp teeth flash with titanium augments.
“Gaz wisna exaggeratin,’ ye smell quite nice, Bambi,” Soap purrs.
“What part of ‘masks on’ don’t you all understand?” Laswell grumbles.
“They’ve already got her scent,” Bricks snickers. “Did Ghost get your tags Bambi?”
“He did,” Price confirms from above. “Naya Walker, also known as Bambi. Computer scientist, you’ve sold a couple of database systems. Quite impressive.”
A pit opens in her stomach. Ghost had access to her system for less than three seconds. Her throat is tight when she says, “Thank you, sir.”
“So polite,” Gaz chuckles from above. “Come say hello, doll.”
Naya chances a glance back at Kate, then looks back at Soap, then up at the single pair of shining eyes above as Price’s ID winks away from your awareness. “I’m not sure I have clearance for that.”
“You didn’t have clearance to know about this facility,” Gaz points out. “And yet, here you are. Pretty as a picture.”
“Jesus,” Bricks mutters as Laswell makes a startled sound. “We really should put a bell on you.”
And then a huge hand presses against the glass next to Naya’s face. She startles backwards and runs into a huge, solid body, and yelps as a strong arm catches her about the waist.
“Caught ya,” a fourth, deeper voice rumbles above her. His other hand catches both of her wrists and immobilizes her as she stares at dark brown stains up to his wrists. “Been teasin’ us f’ months, dippin’ in an’ out ‘f m’code. So careful, li’l fawn. But not careful enough.”
“Ghost,” Laswell says. The whine of a plasma weapon being primed pierces through the otherwise silent room. Naya squeezes her eyes closed.“Hands off. That’s my Breaker.”
“’S’at so?” Ghost bends down, so far down, it seems, to drag the tip of his nose along Naya’s temple. “Seems she moight be mine, since I invited ‘er.”
“Speaking of,” Bricks interjects. “I’ll take my finder’s fee, now.”
“Bricks.” Laswell hisses.
“Transfer’s cleared, Bricks,” John Price says with a chuckle. “Pleasure doing business, as always.”
Like Gaz and Soap, Captain Price is bigger than his file made him seem. They’d shaved him, when they had replaced some of his bones with metal, but now his facial hair is as full and vital as the rest of him. This close, Naya can see the mechanics whirling within his eyes.
Leaning against his free side, Gaz licks his lips with a tongue that seems too long. But she only sees them for a moment before she’s being turned around, still wrapped in Ghost’s arms.
On the left side of the room Bricks lounges in a chair, tossing and catching and cycling through the combinations on her ball. She’s grinning like she’s gotten away with murder. Maybe she has - she’s been paid three times today for possibly the easiest bounty of her career. Across from her, Laswell holds a glowing knife in a loose grip by her side, shooting an annoyed glare at the other woman.
“What the hell is this?” Laswell hisses.
“You told us to stop hunting your techs,” Price chuckles.
“Bambi is mine,” Kate reiterates, glaring out the glass.
“Just a wee taste, Watcher,” Soap burrs from somewhere. “Ghost is code breaker enough, ye dinnae need another.”
Naya feels her entire body go cold. She takes a deep breath, reconnects with the facility, and runs Flash_Bang.exe.
The underground building has a straightforward layout, but that’s dangerous. Naya flicks away the alert when Ghost manages to patch his way back into the facility and silence the music - fuck, it only took him twenty eight seconds? - and ducks under a desk in the office she broke into, one floor down.
It’s hard to stay one step ahead of him, but her spiders and bots repair the five second camera feed loops as soon as he forces the cameras back online. He only wastes time breaking a third of the bot codes before he seems to realize that they’re replicating and switches to tagging, leaving them to run their processes.
It takes two agonizing seconds for her to open the audio relay from the observation tower without revealing her location to Ghost’s sweeping pings.
“-vilian running wild and scared through a secure facility, John.” Kate snaps.
“I thought she was your new breaker,” Gaz snickers. “Not really a civilian.”
“Nae,” Soap interjects. Naya is glad she doesn’t have video to see the nasty smile she can hear in his voice. “Watcher’s right. We cannae let her get too far.”
“She’s fucked the cameras,” Ghost chuckles. “Could get them back online, but it’d take some time.”
Price hums. “Location?”
“West labs’re pingin’,” Ghost answers. He sounds pleased. “Don’t mean much. She’s got bots spoofin’ her IDs.”
“Smells like she’s gone to the east wing,” Gaz purrs. “Lots of classified documents that way, Laswell. Hate to think of what she might come across if she makes it down to the third floor.”
There’s a tense silence before something slams. Eventually, Laswell hisses, “Fine. Bring her back. Alive and unharmed.”
“No promises,” Soap laughs.
Naya scrambles from her hiding spot as she confirms that the cameras in this south wing hall are looped. She needs to get back to the north side of the facility to get to the stairs that might take her up and out. But first she needs to get them off her trail… Somehow.
There’s a janitor closet two doors down, and she spoofs the signal to unlock the door just long enough to slip through it. She looks for bleach and prays it will be enough to mask her scent, then curses to herself when she realizes the bleach will be an obvious mark of her presence. She can’t just erase herself in the physical world the way she can, digitally.
An encrypted message alert calls her attention.
>>>Bricks: Soap will run at you directly. Gaz likes to ambush. Good Luck!
“I c’n see that, Bricks,” Ghost rumbles.
“She’s already at a disadvantage,” the mercenary chuckles. “Poor little thing, you’re going to eat her alive.”
“Oh, she’s not as harmless as all that,” Price laughs. “Took over the whole facility, gave Ghost the slip-“
“I let her go,” Ghost interrupts.
“Set up the meeting so there’d be no one here but us. Got her hands on the codes she thought would let her take control of us, the mindless killing machines.” John continues. He chuckles. “She’s a smart little thing.”
“She got the deadswitches?” Bricks sounds genuinely surprised.
“Command codes. The first ones,” Ghost confirms. “Duds, since we don’t have the chips, but she don’t know that.”
Well, she does now. Naya grabs three bottles of bleach and puts her respirator back on as her mind races. Part of what made soldier modifications so disgusting were the control processors. The irony of finding out that the 141 had somehow removed theirs was not lost on her. They’re already as free as she’d hoped to help them be, and they’re using that freedom to hunt her like animals.
The IDs for Soap and Gaz are still a floor above, moving slowly, following her trail. Ghost and Bravo One are still in the observation tower. She opens one bottle and rolls it back down the hall she came down, then jogs the other way, splashing the bleach as she goes. The observation tower in the center of the floor has mirrored glass, spiking her heart rate every time she catches sight of herself out of the corner of her eye. It’s so jarring that she almost doesn’t realize Gaz and Soap are coming out of the nearest elevator.
She ducks into an office just as the bell dings around the corner.
“Ach, that’s nae very nice, Bambi,” Soap calls. When he speaks next, it’s muffled, likely by his own respirator. “Ghost, she’s scent bombed the whole steamin’ floor. Where is she?”
“Don’t be lazy, Johnny,” Ghost chuckles. “’Ardly a hunt if there’s no challenge.”
“She’ll want the stairwell,” Gaz says. “Lock it down.”
“Already done,” Ghost says. “But locks aren’t exactly a deterrent, if you ‘aven’t noticed.”
“Bottle rolled down this hall,” Gaz says. “So she probably took the other.”
“Aye, that’s what she wants us to think,” Soap chuckles. “I’ll clear this side.”
Naya holds her breath as heavy footsteps start toward her hiding spot, then go so light she almost can’t hear them. She watches the light under the door and resists the urge to flinch at the appearance of a shadow. The man - Soap’s ID sits like a brand so close to her own in her interface - lingers by the door for a long moment then moves on. He’s so quiet that she keeps the map of the floor up to watch his progress. He’s listening for her, she realizes, stopping at each door. She’s lucky that the air circulation vents are above the door, or he might have heard her heart racing.
When Soap and Gaz each turn corners to start investigating the south wing, Naya finally lets herself take more than the shortest breath. She eases the lock open with a flinch at the mechanical click, but neither Soap nor Gaz change their trajectory. When she opens the door and peeks out, the hall is empty. So she eases her way out, crouches low, and shuffles as fast as she can to the stairwell.
She gives the locks three scans before coding them to unlock. The light turns green without incident. She waits for a moment. Soap and Gaz move just a bit farther away. Naya breathes a silent sigh and eases the door open.
“Got her,” Ghost says. “She’s in the stairwell.”
Above her, a door slams open. Naya yelps and starts jogging down the stairs before she can hear what Captain Price yells down at her. She brute forces her way through the lock codes for the third floor and pulls the door open, throwing her bottle of bleach at the wall before slamming it shut. She trips every proximity alarm she can, leading west through the third floor as she throws herself down the next flight. At the fourth floor door, she creates a signal loop, mindful of the door sensor she’d overlooked before. She hears Gaz and Soap slam through the second floor door open just as the door to the fourth closes behind her.
Too late, she realizes that she can’t hear into the tower anymore, and the map of this floor is all static in her interface. The schematics she had before are corrupted - Ghost’s doing, most likely. She can still see the locks on the doors, the terminals connected to the intranet in the various offices. It will have to be enough.
She darts into the eastern wing of the floor and realizes that no, it won’t be enough. The layout is different than the upper floors. The observation tower has no windows in this direction to speak of, for one. And the cameras are few and far between. The doors are also farther apart, and low pile carpet gives way to hard linoleum.
When she turns the corner, she gasps and ducks. Not that it would have helped any. She’s faced with a gymnasium, weight machines and benches and treadmills like a normal gym, except with weights so large it’s almost comical. There’s no one here, but the open space feels like a threat all the same. She turns tail and jogs back toward the observation tower.
As she turns south, she realizes that the tower has no windows on this floor. It’s not a relief, not really. Even if no one can see her, she’s trapped. Gaz and Soap are still looking for her, one floor up. How long will that last? The bleach trick can only work for so long, probably. And Ghost is good, it’s only a matter of time before he breaks into the camera bot code and finds her. How is she going to get up, past the first floor, let alone the next twelve flights of stairs to the streets of the Belly.
God, how is she going to make it home?
Her vision blurs with tears before she can finish taking her next breath.
“No, no, no, no, no,” she whimpers before a hiccup jolts through her. Her breath shudders from her throat as she swipes at her eyes. “No, no, keep it together, it’s gonna be okay. I can figure this out, I can. I can, it’s okay.”
“Bambi? Talk to me,” Brick’s serious voice comes through, suddenly, fuzzy but definitely there. “Those sound like tears, sweetheart.”
Naya sobs, she can’t help it. It’s a few seconds before she can force more words out. “Why did you do this to me?”
“You asked me to bring you,” Bricks reminds her with a soft chuckle. “Didn’t know you were gonna try to take over the whole facility, or I might have set something else up. But if you come out now -“
A hand touches Naya from behind and she screams, throwing a HardReset packet into the space before she can even wonder if that would have any impact on Soap or Gaz. When she whirls around, though, a man she doesn’t recognize is slumped against the wall, barely keeping the weight of a bricked cybernetic leg from dragging him to the floor. Her interface has a moment to tell her this is “Mace,” before she’s darting around him and running again.
“Fuck!” the man shouts. “Watcher what the fuck- No, I’m on the fucking training floor, why the hell-“
“Bambi,” Bricks shouts, “Do not go into the w-“
She slams the connection shut and tries, unsuccessfully, to wipe her tears away. The distraction is probably why she doesn’t realize she’s heading north, but she knows her mistake as soon as she hears the stairwell door open.
She screams again, right in Gaz’s face, can’t help it now that she’s finally made noise. She dodges his reaching hand and bolts, knowing she can’t outrun him, but what else can she do?
“Shite. Ghost!” Soap calls. “Lock it doon!”
Naya dives through a blast door as it slides shut, ignoring the myriad of voices that shout at her. Through the panic, she terminates all of her bots and slams all of her processing power into separating Ghost from the security access from the floor. He puts up a fight, but another BrainBlast and FlashBang gives her the two seconds she needs to take control.
An alert flashes.
<<Message from: WatcherOneKL. Accept?>>
Sitting on the floor, panting and sniffling, she gulps a deep breath. Someone pounds on the door, but it’s solid, and Ghost can’t get past her bots to regain control. She’s safe.
In the observation tower, Price frowns at the data pad in his hands. “Ghost, Bricks. Where did you say you found Ms. Walker?”
“Found us, really,” Ghost mutters, focused on the 3D hologram of the facility. Bambi’s ID markers dance all over the place. He’s running algorithms to try to find a pattern, but she’s three steps ahead, it seems. “Set out a lure and she tore through it like tissue paper. An’ then she made a forum post lookin’ f’r information on soldier mods.”
“Scrubbed everything clean,” Bricks adds. “We couldn’t find her for days after she blew through everything. I got lucky that I found the forum post, it didn’t even trigger Ghost’s spiders.”
Price hums. “And… did either of you confirm which hacker group she’s a part of?”
“Didn’t really have time,” Bricks answers with a shrug. “As soon as I confirmed who I was, she demanded to meet Laswell, and you.”
“Interesting. Any of you ever hear of a group called the Archivist Collective?”
Laswell frowns. “Collective for Anarchy?”
“No.” Price shakes his head. “Archivist Collective. It’s the only thing coming up with her background check. And she’s not a known member of any of the major hacking groups.”
Bricks shrugs. “Obviously, she’d use another alias.”
“No,” Price says again, walking over to show Laswell and Bricks the data pad. “None of her aliases are connected with anything but this Archivist Collective. And their only mission is to ‘Counter censorship through the collection, preservation, and dissemination of contested and classified texts.’”
Ghost makes an interested noise and leaves the hologram to start another terminal whirring. “Let’s see what they’ve got then -… oh.”
Bricks sits up from her sprawl. “Oh?”
“They’ve got an archive. Barely any security at all. Hosted on the GaiaPet: Craft servers.”
“GaiaPet?” Kate frowns. “Isn’t that a… virtual pet game? Where people make things with voxels? Procedurally generated…. They’re definitely robust enough servers for cyberattacks-“
“It’s jus’ a fuckin’ library,” Ghost grunts, navigating through. “Huge text files, embedded images. Some of it’s definitely classified. But tha’s oll… Oh, shite. Jus’ found our records.”
Bricks looks from the terminal in Price’s hand, to Ghost, and back. “Wait. John, you said she sold a couple of database systems. She’s got to be working with some data brokers, at least.”
“This says she developed and sold literal systems,” John says, horror dawning on his face. “A spreadsheet editor and a UI designed to organize complex data sets. As far as I can tell, she doesn’t sell information. Everything she’s got, besides those systems, is open source.”
“Oh, fuck,” Ghost breathes.
Kate strides up to look at his screen. “What?”
“She’s got an active account on GaiaPet. A pet frog named Señor fuckin’ Snuggly. Her last login was today, and her chat with the AI said ‘Wish me luck, if we can’t get those soldiers released, we can at least get the information out there.’”
The silence in the room is palpable. And then Bricks says, “Bambi? Talk to me. Those sound like tears, sweetheart.”
Naya keeps her arms wrapped around her knees until she stops shivering. In that time, two more message request alerts pop up, from BravoOneJP and GhostSR. All of them are marked maximum priority, and she has no desire to touch them. She can see the signal burst of Bricks trying to talk to her, but she’s muted the feed so that she can just have… a single second to breathe.
Her interface pushes everything away to prioritize an SOS signal, then automatically begins transcribing the subsequent Morse code message.
SOH. West wing dangerous stop. Battle androids stop. 15 active 20 inactive stop. GSR give code for control stop. Confirm stop. SOH. West wing dangerous stop. Battle androids stop. 15 active 20 inactive stop. GSR give-
She minimizes the message and sucks in the deepest breath she can, holds it, and forces herself to focus on her body. If she thinks about fifteen battle droids on this side of the door while modified soldiers hunt her on the other, she’ll start screaming and never stop. A part of her wants to lay down and just… give up. A big part. The whole part.
She opens the message from Laswell.
Bambi: You’re in a hazardous section of the facility. Ghost is standing down, for your safety. You will have to establish connection with the control tower to gain codes for control of battle -
Naya deletes the message and opens the one from Price. It’s more of the same, a demand that she open communication, a warning that the west wing of the floor is dangerous. She almost doesn’t open the message from Ghost, but… she doesn’t have much to lose.
She jumps when the message contains an audio file.
“Bambi, fuck, we didn’t know you was a literal archivist. Bricks an’ I fucked up. This is a truce, a suspension of hostilities. SOH. The training floor you’re on is fuckin’ dangerous, Bambi. Too dangerous for me to try t’ take it from you. You gotta take control of the droids. I can’t fuck wit’ ‘em while you’re in control of the space. I managed to confirm shut down of 20, but there’s 15 more. I c’n try to send the control codes this way, but the codes expire every 2 seconds. Better if you open comms. If you can’t, Morse confirmation, I’ll send the codes. Once you grab one, the rest will come for you. You’re fuckin’ fast, I know you can do it, but if you have an issue, open the door an’ Soap and Gaz’ll support.”
She’d rather be shot full of holes by military grade turrets than open the door. Her map of the facility is complete again, and she can see four IDs on the other side of the barrier. Soap, Gaz, Mace, and the redacted asset, Nikto, mill around, pacing between the blast doors and the central tower. But no one is pounding on the door or trying to open it, physically or otherwise. When she checks, her bots are idly cycling through access code randomization, but there’s no attempts at a breach.
Maybe Ghost is telling the truth?
She sends a Morse message.
Received stop. Hold for confirmation stop.
The answer is immediate.
Received stop. Holding for confirmation stop.
Does she want to open the comms? What if it’s a trap? Without knowing how long the code chains are, she’s at a disadvantage without a direct link to the tower. But if she opens connection to the tower, how can she guarantee that Ghost won’t command the androids to terminate her? On the other hand, if he is telling the truth, and the codes expire that fast, there’s no way she can locate and override that many machines that are actively trying to keep her out in time. And they are definitely trying to keep her out - her spiders have been able to confirm twenty units on standby, and fifteen empty holding stations, but there’s no sign of the other droids.
With a shaking breath, Naya opens the comms.
Brick's voice is the one she hears first. "Oh, thank fuck, she's back. Bambi? Can you hear me? Sweetheart, I need you to keep the blast doors static. If they cycle, they might start a lockdown sequence, and that will get the droids moving.” It takes two tries to get the words past her tight throat. "I don't want to die." "I'm so sorry, dove," Captain Price croons. "We’re gonna get you out of there.” "I won't tell anyone, I promise," Naya babbles though gasps. "I just want to go home." "You're gonna be okay, Bambi," Ghosts voice is surprisingly gentle. “Cleverest breaker above and below the city, yeah? Gave Soap an’ Gaz a proper chase an’ knocked Mace on ‘is arse. Coupl’a droids don’t stand a chance.”
“I’m not - I don’t know how to fight,” she whimpers.
“Who said anythin’ about fightin’? Pretty girl like you don’ have t’ lift a finger. Laswell?”
“Working on it,” the woman mutters. “Bambi, I need you to try to give us cameras without initiating any other processes. That’ll help- oh. You are fast. Give me a few seconds to find the nearest droids and we can give you the serial numbers.”
“She’s so small,” Price notes, somewhere in the background. “Possible the droids won’t even register her as a target.”
“I think we’ve fucked up enough today that we don’t need to risk it,” is Brick’s bone dry reply. “Sparrow is going to beat all of our asses.”
“Well, we’re about to give Bambi control of thirty-five full combat units,” the Captain points out. “Might not be much left of us to kick.”
Laswell breaks in. “Ghost-”
“Got em,” Ghost answers. “Bambi, ‘ve got a bead on the nearest units. ‘ow do you want to do this?”
Naya takes a couple of deep breaths and tries to hype herself up. It’s just code work. There are other variables, but at the core of it all, it’s just code. Yes, many of the variables have potentially painful and fatal consequences… But in the end, she can either do the code or not. And if there’s one thing she can do, it’s code.
“H-how,” she clears her throat and blinks back tears. “How many bits, per unit? For the key, I mean.”
“Forty ninety-six.”
Oh, just the highest security rating in the world, she thinks to herself, a little hysterical. She nods to herself and talks through the urge to giggle with nerves. “Okay. That’s seven hundredths of a second per unit, with the key. That’s… not so bad. I can probably handle them in batches of 5. Can I have the first hardware address? Morse, please.”
It takes a second, but the information comes through. It only takes a moment for a spider to highlight the machine in the network. Very quickly, her bots are able to identify and tag seven other units on her map. She shoots a summary data packet back to Ghost.
“Are these all droids?”
“Yeah, that’s half of ‘em. Laswell, she was able to identify all of the A-27 units, do you have eyes on any of the E-243s?”
In the background, Price mutters, “Kate hasn’t even laid eyes on all of the 27s.”
Another data packet comes through, and Naya is able to tag seven more dots on her map. Fifteen battle androids, and two of them just down the hall and around the corner on either side.
Naya takes another hiccuping breath. “How fast can they move?”
“A-27s are closest to you, they’re about a meter per second. The 243s move at about 4 per second.”
“Okay,” she says, holding her breath through another hiccup. She has two of her bots run movement simulations, and decides she’ll focus on the closest two A-27s, then the closest four E-243s. She has the processing power to do it, between her own interface and the facility. But… “I’m going to need these six keys first, but I have to let the doors cycle. How long is the lockdown sequence?”
Bricks makes a concerned noise before answering, “Fifteen seconds before you can open the door.”
So, if she messes this up, she’ll be dead for about 11 seconds before they’d be able to retrieve her body. Wonderful. “Ghost, I need all of the codes at once, in two packets, with the keys in this order. And then the next set of keys as soon as you have them. There’s a half second delay, so I need them as soon as they’re generated.”
Laswell sounds genuinely concerned when she asks, “Is that going to give you enough time?”
Naya runs the numbers again, and realizes that she’s fallen into a very peculiar state of calm. “I should have one point three seconds plus a little wiggle room per key. That’s plenty, for the first part. And if the first part doesn’t work… I don’t really have to worry about the rest of it.”
Captain Price’s voice is stern as he gives commands. “Gaz, tell Nikto to power up the cutter, in case we need to get you through the door. Bambi’s going to override the droids.” He’s quiet a moment, then, “Ghost says she can do it, and from what I’m seeing up here, I’m inclined to believe him. But the resets she did mean the door is going to lock down before she can open it again.”
Ghost says, “Ready to send the next round of codes on your mark, Bambi.”
Naya squeezes her eyes shut and sets her bots to be ready to receive and engage the keys. She takes one long, deep breath. Another. Lets all the air out in a huff. “Mark.”
As soon as the packet comes through, her interface is a flurry of executables and intrusion alerts. Her bots are fast, but the activation of the keys isn’t instantaneous. Just as she was warned, as soon as the first set of keys starts running, all of the droids set themselves to Active:Seeking, Objective:Eliminate. But almost as fast, they’re all placed back into Standby:HoldPosition in a wave that flows through the entire wing.
"That's all of em," Ghost sighs, four seconds later. Something creaks, probably the chair he's sunk himself into. "Fuckin' 'ell, she got all of em. Don' think she even needed me to provide the third set of keys. If she don't run screamin', I want her runnin' the damn-" Naya's heart spikes as an alert pings her interface. Her voice squeaks when she calls, "Ghost? There's two units coming online. They’re not listening to me, I can't stop them. What do I do?" Before she can hear his response, the power to the hall cuts out. Naya holds in a scream as everything goes dark and then red with emergency lighting. Captain Price's voice is overtaken by static, and then she loses the tower completely. Somewhere, in the darkness, she can just barely hear the whine of attack units Riley and Merlin priming their weapons.
“Goddamn it,” Kate snarls. “It’s the 9s. They’re jamming the signal.”
Bricks jumps up from her chair. “Bambi’s in there without access to the system?”
Ghost makes a disagreeing noise. “They’re active because she’s not an authorized user. They’re jamming anything that isn’t local to the wing, I should be able to patch- Johnny!”
“We cuttin, LT?”
“Forward these packets to Bambi, nothing else.”
“Aye - fuck!”
A message request from SoapJM flashes on Naya’s screen just as she finds out that these new droids can move at thirteen meters per second. When she opens it, she gets an immediate key packet. Every bot she has gets set to receive, but the keys are expired, so she has to wait an agonizing three-quarters of a second before the next ones come through.
Just as a next packet arrives, a blue beam of light slices across the end of the hall, then a second from the opposite side. She barely has time to match the keys to the hardware addresses before two furry muzzles round the corner, guns glowing from their shoulders. Naya has only a moment to recognize the controversial K-9 battle units before they both take a step in her direction. And freeze.
It’s an harrowing second of silence, two, three. She doesn’t even breathe.
With a whir, mounted turrets power down and withdraw back behind artificial fur. The K-9s change their status to Standby:AcceptNewObjective with identical head tilts. The one tagged Riley wags its tail and trots forward, tongue lolling like the average bio-dog. Merlin approaches with a little more hesitant body language, though Naya can see the way it’s integrating her tags into the authorized user list in its software.
She flinches away from the door at the high pitched whine of a plasma cutter on metal. Hastily, she sends an ‘All Clear’ message back to Soap, just as the lights come back on.
Captain Price’s voice resolves with renewed connection to the control tower. “-both of your necks. What were you thinking?”
“Oh, suddenly we’re all about vetting assets?” Bricks laughs. “You recruited me with a bag over my head.”
“You were an establlished CIA asset,” Laswell grits out.
Bricks scoffs. “And Sparrow and Nikto?”
“We wasn’t wrong,” Ghost interjects. “Bad intel aside-”
“No intel!” Captain Price half-shouts.
“-she took the facility from me twice and disarmed 15 droids in less than 4 seconds without any formal training. She’s good.”
“None of that matters if she’s dead,” Laswell snaps.
Naya clears her throat. “I’m not dead.”
“Bambi!” Bricks sound downright cheerful. “Doors are almost done cycling, you’re almost out. Hold tight.”
Petting a hand over the soft fur of Riley’s head, Naya feels for the lumps of it’s internal machinery. Of course, she can’t find it - K-9s were built for stealth and surveillance, to blend in with any other dog. These ones are modified for combat, but they’re still adorable.
It’s almost hard to believe that they were going to shoot her, less than ten seconds ago.
The blast door’s status changes to ready, an almost cheerful ping in her interface. She barely gives it a thought before initiating another lockdown sequence, then queuing two more behind it.
Ghost notices. “Bambi?”
“I need a minute, please,” she answers, then cuts the camera feeds.
Merlin eventually comes and sits just out of reach, tail thumping once against the ground. Naya pulls up it’s configuration settings and examines the personality controls. Calm, but friendly, alert, reserved, breaks “arbitrary dog rules” at a rate of 6%. Riley: open and playful, eager to please, breaks rules 17% of the time. Both locked to 141 facility 4th floor, west wing training center.
Do Not Remove.
When the blast doors open, Naya is standning a few feet back. Riley and Merlin lay on either side of her feet, solidly in a sleep cycle. Her fingers dig into the opposite sleeves of her cardigan as Soap and Gaz come into view, along with a fully functional Mace, and a fully helmeted cyborg she can only assume is Nikto.
“Steamin’ Jesus, bon,” Soap says taking a step forward. “Ye gave us a wee fright!”
“If you get within three feet of me,” Bambi says, pausing for a deep breath. “I’ll shoot you.”
Three set of eyebrows shoot up. Nikto’s faceplate remains unchanged. Gaz looks at the others before answering, “We’re sorry we frightened you, love. We didn’t know Bricks hadn’t-”
Naya interrupts him. “I would like to leave now.”
“Well…” Soap says with a shrug. “We can take ye back t’ Laswell?”
“That’s fine. Riley, Merlin, up.”
When the dogs “wake” and stand, Mace says, “They can’t pass that door.”
She takes a step forward, flanked by the dogs. “I think you’ll find that they can.”
“Nae, Bambi,” Soap says gently. “They’re hard coded-”
Riley’s turret activates as soon as Soap takes a step toward her. Naya takes another deep breath, and repeats, “If you get within three feet of me, I will shoot you.”
“Well you certainly won’t be doing that with the dogs,” Gaz scoffs. “We won’t touch you, but you really should come with… us.”
The dogs cross the threshold of the door with her, and the plasma cannon in Merlin primes with a dangerous, high pitched sound. When the stunned soldiers don’t step back, the dog’s chest panel opens with a blue glow.
“Three feet,” Mace says, taking two big steps back, hands in the air near his head. “You got it.”
“Yes, sir,” Gaz says aloud, taking his own step backwards. “The doors are open and we have eyes on her. She’s got the 9s with her. Well sir, it seems she’s taken a liking to them.” He pauses. “Soap did tell her that, but apparently she doesn’t really care.”
Naya rolls her eyes and enables the cameras in the hall. “So you’re all allergic to just saying things outright?” The muted audio feed is a flurry of activity, but she just gestures down the hall. “After you.”
In the end, everyone ends up in a second floor conference room. Naya stands by the far wall, Riley and Merlin a deadly guard panting in front of her feet. The other eight sit and stand at the other end, fidgeting and clearly searching for a way to break the silence.
Bricks tries first, “Sweetheart-”
“Give me a reason not to overload the filtration systems,” Naya interrupts.
That makes everyone flinch. Laswell clears her throat. “What-”
“Because,” Naya nearly shouts, “I could shoot at least two of you, but then you really would kill me this time. But if I backflow and spark the air, that would kill all of you.”
“Kill ye, as well,” Soap points out.
“I thought I was going to die about five times in the last hour,” Naya says, much calmer than she feels. “Mention me dying again and I’ll fry your interface.”
“Ghost just aboot did tha’ already,” Soap mutters.
“Need a hacker for an op. Thought you was a professional,” Ghost finally admits after a moment of tense fidgeting. “Way you ate through the files I laid out, blew through a 256 like tissue paper. Couldn’t find you after… Figured you knew what you was doin’. And y’do.”
Naya’s eye twitches. “And you couldn’t send me an email? Set up an interview?”
“I did try,” Bricks points out. “But you said all the keywords that tend to get a person fast tracked to a very classified meeting.”
“A very classified meeting where you sell me, twice and then hunt me for sport?”
“Everything sounds bad when you say it like that,” the other woman chuckles.
The air circulator over the door falls silent. In the ensuing silence, Naya can hear the servos whir in Bricks’s arm.
“Clearly, we made mistakes,” Laswell admits. “So. What do you want?”
“I want to not have been sold and hunted for sport. Barring that, I would like a time machine. I’d love to know what you consider an equitable offer, Watcher One.”
“What the fuck did you do?” Mace hisses at Captain Price.
“Apparently we made a tactical error,” the man grumbles. “And then a series of compounding tactical errors.”
“You did not ask Nikolai,” Nikto says, matter of fact. It’s the first Naya’s heard his voice, human and heavily accented. “Or Sparrow. She will not be pleased, I think.”
“None of Nik’s contacts c’n do what Bambi c’n do,” Ghost counters.
“Bambi can kill every person in this room,” Naya says, voice flat, emphasized by the glow of two plasma cannons. “Bambi can turn this whole facility into a goddamn crater. Bambi can post videos of the human experimentation to the holonet.”
“Woah, woah, woah,” Gaz says. “What human experimentation? No one’s experimenting on anybody.”
“I saw the videos!” Naya yells. “People in cages, people on operating tables, awake, screaming, crying. I saw people eating raw meat, off of leg bones, eating people!”
“Oh fuck,” Ghost says, voice wavering. His face is stricken when she looks at him. “Bambi, that weren’t for you to see, fuck, ‘ow deep did you fuckin’ go? I didn’t even-”
“That’s the job,” Bricks cuts in. “That’s why we needed a hacker, because we’re trying to stop that from happening, and we can’t get through their walls or exploit their vulnerabilities.”
“Oh, that’s just the “bad guys”?” Naya scoffs. “Okay. Why was Gaz covered in blood when I arrived?”
“Blood!” Soap yelps. “That was hydraulic fluid an’ oil! One of the bikes is actin’ up, and our mechanic isnae aroond!”
“It was in his teeth!”
“He’s bonnier than he is graceful!”
“Oh, fuck you, Tav!”
“You said you couldn’t promise to bring me back alive! Ghost called it a hunt!”
“Ah was jokin’!” Soap runs and hand over his mohawk. “We’re a right frightful lot, and sometimes we sneak aboot, but mostly people just cannae always hear us coming! Ye’d think we could catch one wee little civilian withoot incident!”
“You’re the one who was running through a secure facility,” Captain Price points out.
A plasma cannon discharges into the wall above his head. The whole room freezes for a beat before Naya hisses. “If you ever even think of implying-”
“Any information you find about Makarov and his dealings, you can make public,” Bricks interrupts. “Who, what, when, where, how. All of it can go into your archive.”
Laswell scowls. “Now hold on-”
Bricks talks over her. “We don’t have anything you want that you can’t just outright take, Bambi. That’s what you came here for. Information, and to get people out of cages.”
Nikto looks at Bricks and snorts before muttering something under his breath in Russian. Mace crosses his arms, leaning back in his seat and doing a much better job of keeping his thoughts off of his face than Soap and Gaz. The sergeants look horrified. Ghost looks about ready to throw up. Captain Price and Laswell share a sour, resigned look.
“You’ll have our backing,” Laswell sighs. “You’ll need something a bit more secure than the GaiaPet servers, or you’ll be tracked. But yes. You can disseminate the information.”
There’s a long moment of silence. Naya considers her options, arms around herself. The air circulator kicks back on.    Eventually, she says, “I want an advance. Thirty thousand credits, plus however much Price paid.”
“Done,” Bricks answers.
“And… I want seventy five credits an hour.”
“…Fine,” Laswell agrees.
“And I keep the dogs.”
Captain Price makes a disagreeing noise. “Those are government property.”
“Either I keep them, or I set them to self destruct and detonate every android on the fourth floor.”
Nikto says, “You are a bloodthirsty hind.”
“I’m really not,” Naya says. “But I’ve had a very long day. Do we have a deal?”
“Don’t think we have much of a choice,” Captain Price concedes.
Just then, the door to the conference room opens, and a brunette peeks her head in. Morgan Voss, “Sparrow,” as her ID tags her, nods at Laswell. “Just got in, didn’t know there was a meeting scheduled. What did I miss?” Her eyes drift up. “What the hell happened to the wall?”
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stayevildarling · 13 days ago
Text
Wilhemina Venable x Cordelia Goode x Billie Dean Howard x Reader- I love you, I love you I‘m sorry
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A/N: honestly this is a pure trauma dump so🤷🏻‍♀️ title inspired by Gracie Abrams „I love you, I‘m sorry“
tw/tags: mention of depression, mention of suicidal thoughts, mention of past self harm, mention of anxiety
word count: 7k
taglist:
@lunaticwhittaker , @billiebeanhoward , @lanawinters-ily , @kenzbro , @minaslittleone , @httpfiftyshadesofgay @whitelotus00 , @ninaahelvar , @paulsonsratched , @vintagepaulson , @isle-of-earle , @grilledcheeseandguavajelly , @lucyintheskywithxanax , @fanfics4world , @mymiraclewitch , @hazard-to-myself , @awritersometimes , @wastdstime , @p1pecleanerwitheyes , @queen2234 , @ihartnat , @lifebyinez , @ahsatanizgay, @laavaagirl, @stepintomyworld
Slow. The process was slow, as if happiness slowly disappeared from behind your eyes, the joy slowly fading from your features and the ache settling back in your heart. It had been a constant companion for years by now, every odd morning it would return, as soon as your eyes would open, your heart would feel heavy. And it had been good for the longest time, your mind and the universe finally giving you some rest and the ability to enjoy life.
And life was beautiful truly, being able to wake up every single day beside your girlfriends, Billie most definitely always still beside you when you woke as she loved sleeping in and scheduled her meetings that way, Mina often at work but a sweet text on your phone every time and seeing Cordelia within the academy. Her presence always felt like a warm safety blanket, one that you could hide away in when the world was especially cruel or scary. And the last few months you made new memories with them, Billie taking you to that one concert you had dreamed of for years. The quiet moments with Mina while she would read to you and the moments with Delia where not only your love grew but you did as a person too.
The four of you had been beside each other for years, through every low the academy hit, whether it was witch hunter attacks or a few problematic students. Wilhemina‘s condition getting worse for a while or Billie‘s show and the ghosts haunting her at night. The highs were the academy was thriving, the four of you celebrating Billie‘s latest season wrapping or Mina finally on the right medicine, making her day to day a lot easier. There was the times you faced the bad anxiety, the one that left you unable to leave the house, Mina having to take your hand and guide you back outside. There was the times when everything was over, all the bad, letting you focus on the good.
And the good felt like being constantly high, surrounded by your lovers, able to spend your days joking with Billie and watching her smoke which drives you crazy every time. Being able to go to the markets on Sunday with Cordelia, watching her fingers ghost over spices and ingredients and things for the academy and being able to read in the quiet evenings with Wilhemina, smiling as her glasses would be perched on her nose the same way every single time.
It started on a random day, your chest feeling a bit funny, mistaking it for anxiety at first until it became heavier, not the hard to breathe anxiety heavy but the sad heavy. Soon after your thoughts trailed around the usual subject, the unhappiness in your life and then like magic it hit you full force. Suddenly everything was bad, no one cared about you and you were nothing more than a burden to your girlfriends. The grief from the last few years hit you again, the bad, the pain and the things you had lost in that time. The people who left you, some waiting for it to be your turn, some which you are better off without. Suddenly, your life had no meaning, made no sense and everything was bad.
And then the rest returned, that voice in the back of your mind when your eyes lingered over your wrists, the faintest scar visible from years ago and the ideas what would be the least painful way for you and anyone involved. It hit you like a brick wall, suddenly no way out, like a cloud, raindrops with dark thoughts following your every step and you couldn‘t escape it. This wasn‘t the first time in your relationship, the three of them having helped you back on your feet before years ago, getting you help and support, getting you on the right medication which you had been taking every day til this day. But even with the support and their unwavering gentlness and quiet concern, always wanting to make sure you are okay, it felt impossible to tell them.
Suddenly getting up in the morning and ready for work felt suffocating, keeping on a brave face all day until your workday was over, answering every single „How are you?“ with a quick „I‘m fine“ and changing the subject without anyone noticing. Focusing on everyone around you, listening patiently and trying to solve their problems in order to distract you from your own. When you would return to the academy, you kept the same brave face, distracting yourself with chores, making dinner if your girlfriends were still working, tidying the greenhouse or cleaning the coven, anything other than having to sit with yourself and your thoughts. Weekday evenings always looked the same, dinner before spending some quality time with your girlfriends.
And somehow Billie‘s laughter while showing you a new episode of her show, laying in Cordelia‘s arms as she runs her fingers through your hair or watching Mina knitting distracted you from it all. But when the night came, despite being in their comfortable and safe arms you felt lonely and sad as the weight of hiding and the whole day would hit you all at once. No matter what you tried the thoughts would return, harsher and harder to resist than during the day. You thought about giving in, having occasionally googled the easiest way to go, not being a witch knowing there was no spell or potion you could use and your anxiety so far having kept you from attempting anything. There were the nights where you wished you could fall asleep and not wake up, undoubtedly the easiest way and that way they wouldn‘t need to know it had anything to do with you.
The depression took you back under its wings before you could fight it, suddenly every single positive thing in your life vanished as all you could focus on was the darkness and how it was slowly swallowing you. It left you empty, broken and defeated, thinking after the last time you had beat it for good, assuming you had finally made it to somewhere clearer and happier in your life but it turned out to be a lie. Every day felt the same, getting up to your blaring alarm, still feeling utterly tired before walking to the bathroom and splashing some cold water on your face as it would momentarily cure you of the sleepiness. After you would work on autopilot, get ready for work, get through the day, return home, spend time with your girlfriends, lay awake with the thoughts for hours before eventually going to sleep and the cycle repeating again.
Some days you felt like screaming, some days you felt like crying and some days you felt empty, like a shell or a stranger, watching from the outside as you fought your way through life. And somehow, you had become so good at it all through the years that they didn‘t notice, that your fake smile was so convincing that it fooled them. That they brushed your tiredness in the morning away for simply being exhausted from work. You had thought about it a few times, taking the pain away with your all familiar old friend the blade, having seen a few in the bathroom from some shavers before and knowing by now how to take those things apart. But something kept you from doing so, maybe it was Delia‘s smile and how whenever she stepped into the room it felt like the sun, maybe it was Mina‘s gentle voice and how she would soothe you after a long day or maybe it was Billie‘s charm or ultimately a combination of those things.
It became hard to get out of bed but you kept moving, rememebering the words of your therapist from years ago „High functioning depression“ and remembering just what that meant for you. Having to go through every single day, making sure everything is perfect and you please everyone around you, functioning like normal while each day, another part of you slowly died inside. You had wanted so hard to figure out parts of your life, a routine for the longest times but you couldn‘t. You would watch Delia and Mina with their morning routines, seeing how they would enjoy breakfast and meal prep for work, Billie going on the occasional run on the weekends and the gym, maintaining their health and lifestyles. Somehow you never managed to do those things, not even able to stick to a decent skin care routine at the end of the day, knowing if you could give yourself some stability and routines it may make life easier.
But you had been trying for years, managing for a few days before it became impossible, unable to stick to anything, your days hard enough as they are. And somewhere along the lines it all blurred together, the day when you returned to cigarettes, knowing they couldn‘t kill you immediately but knowing they may make it quicker, let alone taking some of the loneliness away , especially at night when the thoughts would keep you awake. And thats when Cordelia picked it up the first time, how she never saw you but the smell lingered to your clothes, not the kind of you simply being around Billie, how your lips tasted like them in the morning. And she didn‘t mind, you being your own person after all but she knew you would only turn to those when something was bothering you, something serious that you couldn‘t voice.
She didn‘t push, didn‘t bring it up but she noticed and watched closely. And the closer she watched, she noticed how tired you seemed in the morning, how sometimes when she woke at night your spot beside her was empty, how the smile behind your eyes had faded and how you kept conversations almost robotical again, like that time years ago. The supreme would watch for other signs, never seeing a hoodie on you yet, not seeing any of the obvious signs and around whenever your medicine alarm would go off, just making sure.
One night when everything felt awful again, she found you in Mina‘s arms in her office, as you knocked, asked if she was busy and asked her for a hug, highly unusual and when the redhead filled her in by the time they had you in bed, asleep and nestled in their arms, both of them began worrying, knowing how much you had struggled in the past and sincerely hoping they are wrong about their assumptions as they hated nothing more than seeing you sad. But by the time Billie caught you smoking in the garden past midnight once, they knew, being able to see it clearly now, as if a fog had been lifted and they were with you now, completely.
„Sweetheart?“ Cordelia asked one afternoon as you sat in the dining room, pretending to read a book despite your mind occupied by other things. „Yes Delia?“ you turned your attention towards her as she sat down beside you. And you could tell from that way she looked at you, that gut wrenching heartbreaking way, her concerned way. You took a deep breath, despising nothing more than lying to them. Hiding was one thing but lying in their faces was one thing you absolutely hated. „You aren‘t feeling great, are you?“ was all she asked that caused the dam to break. Her brown concerned eyes looking at you with such love and affection it killed you. Your chin wobbled and she pulled you into her arms, book sliding down your lap and onto the floor, the pages long forgotten as she held you, trying to fix the pieces.
But still, you wouldn‘t talk, not that night when Mina and Billie returned and found you in her arms and not when the redhead and medium tried to get you alone, Billie hoping you may share as she took you out shopping one day, hoping she could cheer you up. And she did, her smile captivated you and made you forget about it all for a while. But Mina wasn‘t as easily pleased, she hated whenever you are hurting, having been by your side for so long, watching you grow into the person you are, watching you love them with all your being and doing everything for them. She knew you soothed Billie to sleep after her nightmares even if they woke you and you had barely just managed to get to sleep yourself. She knew you helped Cordelia when all you wanted was to curl up, simply to take some things off the supreme‘s busy shoulders. She knew you accompanied her to doctors appointments despite your anxiety and fear of them.
You were sitting in the library, Cordelia still in her office and Billie late as she was filming at the moment, book in your lap but from the door slightly ajar Mina could tell, you aren‘t truly reading. She could see the exhaustion on you, feel the sadness radiating as she stepped inside, startling you as she closed the door. At first the redhead just sat beside you with a warm smile, letting you focus on what you were doing but both of you knew this wasn‘t what you were truly doing. „Little one, can we talk?“ she asked gently, as if you are the most fragile thing on the planet. „Sure“ you answered, setting your book down and giving her your full attention. „I know you are hurting my darling and nothing pains me more“ she began and you tried hard to supress the tears and lump forming in your throat.
„And I know you prefer to fight these on yourself but little one, I need to know what‘s going on“ she insisted and there was something so gentle about how the usual stern woman spoke that it broke something within you. „It‘s back“ is all you managed to whisper to start with and it took her a moment to understand what you were implying. „The heaviness?“ she asked and all you could do was nod as you tried holding back your tears and the sobs that threatened to wreck through you. „I was thinking the other day and it‘s been.. ten years“ you whispered, the realization startling Mina the same way it had you. „I never thought this was real that I could be the one with chronic..“ you started but didn‘t finish the word as Mina understood. „And I have done everything and still am- therapy, medication, working on myself but Mina.. nothing works“ you whispered.
There was a pause between you both before you carried on „I have everything in life that I could ever want, you three are beyond what I deserve and I know I‘m selfish but I just want to make it all stop“ you confess, watching as her eyes close painfully at your statement. „I can‘t do a routine for the life of me, I struggle to do a simple 8 hour shift a day, I struggle to get out of bed, I just struggle“ you carried on, the hiding and holding back from the past few weeks suddenly gone. „I wish I could be brave for once but my anxiety keeps me from it because I‘m a coward“ you hissed, angry tears rolling down your cheeks. „Hey“ Mina stopped you as she wiped your tears for you. „What do you mean by that? stopping you from what?“ she asked but when silence followed she understood.
And then the two of you sat there as sobs wrecked through you, tears stresming down your cheeks as your words repeated in Wilhemina‘s mind. She knew about your past and struggles but she had no idea it‘s been this long and this bad. And a part of her began hating herself then for not having intervened and helped you, wishing she could fix the universe and never make you feel that way again. It took a moment for her to snap out of it until she lunged forward and held you in her arms. „Listen to me“ she began, taking your cheeks into her hands and making your eyes lock. „You are not a burden to us, you aren‘t weak and you certainly aren‘t a coward“ she assured, her eyes soft but her tone serious. „I‘m gonna help you, we will help you and figure this out“ she spoke before holding you again.
But that night after she tugged you to bed and talked to her girlfriends she began doubting this. How could they help you when this had been going on for years? How could they fix this if you had tried it all, if you had done everything to be happy and take every suggestion and steps from doctors and therapists. Continuing to put medication in your body when it made you so damn sleepy every single day? How could they ever fix that?
Billie was optimistic, worried of course but she knew you were strong, knowing with their help you could fight this too. Cordelia sighed heavy when she finally heard the truth, some tears in her eyes as she hated how this found you everytime and how it couldn‘t leave you happy for a while. But Wilhemina laid awake that night, thinking about the possibility of you being gone and how you were her whole life. Of course she loved Billie and Delia but you undeniably completed them and she couldn‘t stand seeing you hurting. She knew dragging you to more doctors would only spiral your anxiety and she knew new medication or a higher dosis would only cause more trouble and stress for you right now.
She watched you snuggle up to her chest that night, how you sleepily laid on her and mumbled something incoherent, your face filled with a soft smile and it killed her how only sleep seemed to soothe the demons of this world. That night she turned your alarms off, messaging Cordelia for the morning to call you in sick for work and her calling out too. She knew what you had really needed was rest, to stop pushing yourself and to simply make everything stop for a while, just how you had wanted and she was going to make sure you would get that, at least for the upcoming day.
When you woke up that morning, the sun filtered through the curtains, warming your cheeks as you opened your eyes, feeling Mina softly asleep underneath you. Your eyes widened when you saw the time, jolting up and waking Wilhemina and Cordelia, the supreme also having decided to put some academy stuff on hold and focus on you. „Sweetie“ the blonde cooed still a little sleepily as Mina held you down. „It‘s so late, I‘m gonna be so late“ you spoke in shock before they filled you in. „You- you called me out of work?“ you asked confused as Cordelia nodded and Mina pulled you back into her chest. „We know you are tired darling and you deserve some rest“ they explained and you simply nodded as they eloped you in their warmth and arms, making you feel whole as you drifted back into their comfort.
That day they were so gentle with you, soothing you and not forcing you out of bed at all. If it was up to them you could have stayed in bed all day and not move an inch. But they fed you your favorite food, Mina taking a bath with you and Cordelia letting you choose whatever you wanted to do. And that day you felt complete, not having to think or worry about anything at all. The next day Billie spent the afternoon with you but of course your routines and responsibilities quickly caught up with you and the usual thoughts came circling back in your mind. You felt guilty, feeling like you shouldn‘t be feeling like that while having them around, considering how much they cared and loved you and how it wasn‘t fair to them.
And so you pushed through, pretended that you didn‘t struggle so much, soldiering through your days and trying to find the positive in the little things. But of course the heaviness as Mina had called it returned, leaving your chest constantly hurting, your mind constantly on edge and leaving nothing but the sadness. There were days when your thoughts trailed to the attic, wondering whether a rope may not hurt as much as you thought, there were the times you considered going to the icy lake considering it was cold and frozen at the time and then there was the blade you found in the bathroom. But your health anxiety that you had been battling for years equally kept you from attempting anything.
And somehow it made the whole cycle even worse, feeling like giving up everyday and feeling like you can‘t do anything about it. But the blade stuck in your thoughts, remembering the relief it had given you at times and the familiarity of it all keeping your anxiety at bay. You had debated all night, wondering whether you should wake them and tell them, remembering their words about needing you to be open with them and how that was the only way they could help you with these big feelings. Equally you had worked towards keeping your arms free from the reminders of pain but it practically called for you as you quietly leave the bed and rush outside first, hoping a cigarette may calm your racing mind.
But it didn‘t. The air feels cool, sending a shiver down your spine once you make it back inside, the moon hanging high over the coven only making the growing sadness worse. And like autopilot you locked the bathroom door, reaching for your old friend and pulling your sleeve up, sitting in silence as your thoughts circled. Was this really worth it? You feel like screaming, knowing this wasn‘t the way after years of being clean from this and never having touched it after that one time, leaving the now faded scar. Tears eventually stream down your cheeks as you fight your internal battle, considering to simply return to your lovers arms in the hopes it may soothe you.
The small bathroom feels suffocating after a while and so you make it back outside, blade tugged in your pocket as you smoke, the greenhouse coming into view as you make your way over, discarding the cigarette on the floor as your thoughts kept you from putting it in an ashtray the way you usually would. You pace in the greenhouse for what feels like an eternity, fighting the inner battle before the first scream ripples through you, a pained sob as your lungs give out, letting all the pain out that had been killing you inside for weeks. And it wasn‘t the screaming that woke Cordelia, it was your absence, her magic and deep connection waking her as she tried finding you. The discarded cigarette and faint screaming eventually led her to the greenhouse as she opened the door.
And what she finds inside breaks her, seeing you on your knees, screaming and sobbing as you clutch a silver shiny small object in your hands, your back turned to her. „Sweetie“ she tries, rushing over as she kneels in front of you, scared to touch you as she had never seen you like that before. Carefully she takes the blade from your hands and makes it disappear with her magic, seeing how there aren‘t any marks on you whatseoever and despite her feeling your pain, she feels pride, pride that you didn‘t let that happen, didn‘t go that far. She takes you in her arms, letting you sob into her as you fall apart in her arms. „I‘m a wreck, you shouldn‘t have to deal with this Delia, I‘m so sorry“ you sob as the guilt washes over you, leaving the pain even stronger than it had before.
„Shh Y/N“ she coos as she holds you tight, her hand holding the back of your head against her chest. „My sweet girl you are so brave“ she whispers as she struggles with her own tears. „You continue to fight this on your own not wanting to scare or burden us when all we want to do is this, support and hold you“ she reminds you as her words slowly quieten your thoughts, her arms making you feel calm. But the heaviness lingered, even with the two of you kneeling on the greenhouse floor and eventually your tired eyes meet hers. „This is never going to go away, this is something I will have to deal with for the rest of my life Delia“ you whispered, barely audible but the trembling of your voice making it obvious that this was your breaking point.
„I wish I could fall asleep and never wake up again, I wish I could just be brave for once“ you mumble, not able to tell apart your thoughts and words at this point. The supreme‘s breath trembles at your words, realizing the extend of your pain as she holds you tighter, not knowing what to say to make this better. „But you are brave my love, you continue fighting for us everyday and that‘s more we could ever ask of you“ she reminds you but the words don‘t register as the exhaustion creeps up on you. In a swift motion the blonde rises to her feet with you in her arms, carrying you back into your shared home and the warm bedroom as she nestles you between Billie and Wilhemina. She snuggled up to you three, holding you as you passed out asleep as soon as she lifted you into her arms but the feelings lingered. How could they fix this? How could they fix you?
The following week passed in a blur, the usual heaviness surrounding you but also some sunlight. Like the evening when Wilhemina took you into her office, taught you how to knit to get you to do something with your hands, how she was so patient, knowing you had been wanting to learn for the longest time. How Cordelia took you into the greenhouse a few days later and talked you through all the different plants and their benefits to her magic or how Billie had taken you to her studio to film some promotion and letting you watch and experiment with the equipement a little. They felt like little sunshines in the big storm of darkness and for a little while the memories of it made you happy, causing you to smile every single time.
But the darkness won every time, causing you to retreat further and of course they noticed. Another sleepless night, the thoughts keeping you awake as Billie finds you standing on one of the balconies, elbows resting on the railing as the sensation burned your throat. „What are you doing awake?“ she asks, startling you as you almost drop the cigarette. „Couldn‘t sleep“ you mumble despite every part of you wanting so badly to sleep and forget everything. „You know they are both worried sick and so am I“ she begins, causing you to abandon the cigarette. „I‘m sorry“ you whisper as she steps closer.
„No you aren‘t babydoll“ she begins her voice firm but not unkind „You are lost and hell I get it but you need to let us in. I know you are worried it‘s messy and we can‘t handle it but I promise you we can“ she tries and thats enough for your shoulders to tremble and the tears to roll. Billie steps forward, taking you into her arms as you shiver into her. „Let me take care of you baby“ she coos as she takes you inside, laying you both in bed and getting you warm and comfortable as she holds you, her nails running through your hair and eventually soothing you to sleep.
It didn‘t take long for the darkness to pull you under again, having done your research this time and finding an escape but the entire night as you sit on the kitchen floor, medcine tub in your hands you couldn‘t stop thinking about Billie‘s words from the other night. And something stopped you from opening it, instead running upstairs and entering the bedroom, startling Wilhemina and Cordelia as they woke instantly. „I‘m so sorry“ you pant, chest heaving as they stand and watch your shaking frame with the bottle still clutched in your hands. „I‘m struggling tonight“ you admit, handing Cordelia the bottle and she sighs in relief, realizing you hadn’t taken any of them. They immediately took you to bed, waking Billie in the process and despite the tears, despite the pain and messiness, they had you just like Billie promised.
The medium‘s hands hold onto yours as Wilhemina holds you against her chest, sitting up and soothing you and Cordelia‘s words reminding you how well you did in finally letting them in. And that night you realized that this wasn‘t something they could cuddle away, this wasn‘t something that would stop one day, it was a continuous process but one that felt so much easier when finally letting them in, letting them see all the ugly and messy and letting them help you. They made you realize that you could never be a burden, that they only wanted to see you smile again. And rest assured they wouldn‘t stop until the smile returned, no matter how many conversations, sleepless nights it would take.
You belonged with them and even though they couldn‘t always fix it, couldn‘t always make the thoughts stop or the heaviness less, they could hold you through it, replace the heavy with beautiful memories that you could think back to on the bad days. And even though depression remained by your side as it had for years, they loved you and they would never let you walk through a single battle like that ever again. Not as long as they had you.
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lys5ophobia · 21 days ago
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I finished rereading dracula yesterday so
DPS Characters as Dracula Characters
The title is bad, i know
First of all
Mr Keating would be Abraham van Helsing (Both are father figures; old; both are teachers)
Knox would be Lucy (Just getting the vibe; madly in love; acting a bit illogical)
Arthur would be Charlie (I‘m not the biggest fan of Knarlie but whatever; just the vibes again; outgoing and kind of a leader)
Now hear me out
Ginny as Butch Jonathan
Chris as Mina
Idk if that makes sense but I would love to see more lesbian representation and especially for those two (Chrisginny is literally the only couple ever)
Continuing
Todd as Quincey Morris
Neil as John Seward (they’re both gay, you can’t convince me otherwise)
John and Morris are boyfriends frfr
Meeks, Pitts & Stick as the three vampires that haunt Jonathan (i stand with transfem meeks)
Cameron as Renfield (because i actually really like both. But Rsl in his TBND era would be a great fancast)
Nolan as Dracula
Mr Perry as Mrs Westenra (because he more or less unknowingly killed someone)
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90s-suplex · 4 months ago
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Hiii I just wanted to say I really loveeee your little blog since I'm deep in the trenches for stone cold Steve Austin lmao (down bad)
it's literally so sad to hardly come across good stories about him (involving a reader) so I decided to hit you up and shoot my shot Abt requesting a little story where he's still in his attitude era but is also quite comforting and actively being caring through either his words or actions towards the reader. I'm never opposed to a little smut but if you don't want to for any reason then I don't mind it being left out.
Ofc if you're unable to or unwilling to write something like this then I completely get it and respect you for it. (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)
I also wanna apologize if I did this wrong since this is the first time I'm kinda interacting and actively being busy on Tumblr so it takes some getting used to haha
AN: based on this Steve Austin & Michael Cole segment because it lives in my mind rent free, I‘m sorry 🤐 (in case the hyperlink doesn‘t work, just search up ‚Stone Cold attacks Michael Cole‘ on youtube lmao)
I‘m not sure if you could classify this as ’actively taking care of reader’, I promise I tried writing something comforting & fluffy at first but since Austin is a smug lil‘ bastard this took a detour :3 I‘m sleepdeprived, so I hope this makes any sense lmao !
reader is genderneutral and not a wrestler :)
Summary: After witnessing Stone Cold Steve Austin‘s gradual decent into paranoia, you decide to talk some sense into him.
Tw: implied sexual references, mentions of wrestling typical violence
—————————————————————
“We're backstage with former hardcore champion Kurt Angle. Kurt, thank you for joining us for this quick interview," greeted Michael Cole the moment you turned on the TV.
A couple of minutes ago, Stone Cold and you had arrived at the arena. Being one of the top draws of the company, Austin had the luxury of a private dressing room and tonight you had decided to join him there instead of waiting for him at the hotel. 
Since he wasn’t scheduled to appear on TV until later parts of the show on this particular day, the two of you showed up when TV tapings were already well underway. After dropping off your belongings, you sank on the couch and switched on the TV to find out what had happened so far, while Austin went into the bathroom to get ready.
“Last Monday Night on Raw is War, the hardcore championship was on the line in your match against RVD. Stone Cold Steve Austin interfered and cost you the title when he tossed you down from the stage onto the concrete floor 10 feet below.“
Kurt pressed his lips together into a tight line as he listened to Michael Cole rehash last Monday night‘s events.
“Tonight you will team with Chris Jericho to take on RVD and Stone Cold Steve Austin,“ Cole continued. 
“How do you feel going up against a man like Austin, who has total disregard for your physical well-being?" Michael Cole implored, leaning closer.
“How do I feel?“ Kurt answered after snapping his head back, “I feel the same way about my tag team match tonight against Austin as I will at Unforgiven." 
The camera slowly zoomed in on Kurt. There was a film of sweat covering his face. He shifted his attention away from Cole, now pointing his index finger directly at the camera before he spoke again. 
"I feel like kicking Austin's ass. And after kicking his ass, I am gonna take his title. I will walk out Unforgiven as the new WWF champion." 
You looked over your shoulder. Said championship belt laid on the opposite end of the couch. You leaned over, grabbed it and took a good look at it.
"What?" a muffled voice came from behind you.
Oh, this will be interesting, you thought to yourself and placed the belt on your lap. It rumbled briefly before Austin opened the bathroom door and stepped out. 
"What did that sumbitch just say?" he asked you with his head cocked to the side. Austin had just finished changing into his black ring trunks, holding his shirt and jeans in his hand. 
You reached for the TV remote on the desk before you and turned up the volume.
"Kurt wants to kick your ass. He said he's gonna take your title too, while he's at it," you replied. 
Austin snorted in disapproval. He tossed his clothes onto a spare chair in the corner of the dressing room, shaking his head. "Good luck trying," he spat out.
With three quick strides, he stood next to you. "Can you believe the nerve of that guy? He's lucky this ain't a one-on-one match tonight."
He sank down onto the sofa. "Tonight he can hide behind his tag Team partner. But Kurt knows I can beat his ass any day of the week, and twice on Sunday.“ 
He paused for a moment and his eyes darkened, “Hell, I can beat both of their asses at the same time!“
You rolled your eyes. Over the last few months, Stone Cold had become increasingly more paranoid. Granted, he had always been quick-tempered and cocky. However, these tendencies had intensified drastically, reaching their peak the night he attacked Michael Cole on live TV, throwing ridiculous accusations at him and harassing him. 
The fast-paced life, countless hours on the road and injuries had worn him out, there was no denying that. He was on edge most of the time these days both on and off camera, always eager to start arguments with whoever crossed his path, though he never took his irritations out on you.
On the outside he was closed off, only allowing a handful of people to get to know him on a deeper level. You found it quite amusing how surprised other people would be to find out how he behaved behind closed doors when he craved your soft skin. Whenever you decided to join him on the road traveling from city to city, he’d always be thankful as you were his sweet little escape.
Regardless, you had grown tired of his mood swings and wanted to talk some sense into him. You felt bad for Cole. But knowing how stubborn and bull-headed Stone Cold was, you knew this could prove difficult. Especially since you weren’t part of this business. 
On the other hand, you weren‘t stupid - his abrasiveness was part of his appeal - both to the crowd and to you. You knew that and Austin did too. 
Your fingers drew mindless circles on the championship belt on your lap as the next match had just started on your backstage TV. 
“It‘s pretty, ain‘t it?“ he mused and pointed at the prized possession on your lap. His features had softened, revealing a slight smile.
You grazed over the ridges and nodded. 
“What‘s it made out of?“ you asked. Your reflection stared back at you from the squeaky clean golden surface. It couldn‘t be made out of real gold you figured - at least not entirely. Still, it had to be somewhat valuable.
When he didn‘t reply you looked back at him. He was scratching his beard.
“Ha! How .. ironic,“ you teased him drawing out your words. “You wanna whip Kurt‘s ass for trying to take your title but you don‘t even know if it‘s worth a dime?“
He exhaled, “Well, I don‘t know the specifics. They don‘t matter anyway.“
Austin moved closer to you and pointed at the nameplate on the belt. It displayed Stone Cold Steve Austin in capital letters. “You see? It’s more about the ideal value than the material one.“ 
“You do know I need my title back later, right?“ he snickered while playfully nudging your knee.
His hand stayed there and the two of you were silent for a few moments.
He spoke again, “Technically, it‘s not worth much. Some kind of cheap alloy.“
Aha. So it‘s worth nothing after all.
“But every time I go out to the ring, I bust my ass trying to make it look like the most prestigious thing in the world,“ Austin explained while he let his hand slowly trail up your inner thigh.
Your skin prickled under his touch. 
“And I‘d say I do a pretty good job at that,“ Austin squeezed your thigh lightly before he continued in a low tone, “What do ya think?“
He did. That‘s why you were curious about its actual worth in the first place. But you decided you’d rather mess with him a little bit.You returned his gaze. As he cocked his eyebrow awaiting your response, you simply shrugged half-heartedly.
“Kinda, I guess.“
Your answer earned you another chuckle from him. “Hard to impress, I see.“
With a final squeeze, he stood up to go fetch his training bag. You watched him leave to tape up his wrists in preparation for his upcoming match, but still felt his touch linger on you. As soon as his back was turned to you, you shifted on the couch and cleared your throat. Moments later, he returned to the couch along with his bag. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eyes as he pulled out his knee braces and put them on. 
You sank deeper into the couch. Suddenly you felt incredibly stupid. You were chewing at the inside of your mouth, pondering on how to tackle this topic.
“Have you ever thought about taking it down a few notches?“ you began and crossed your arms over your chest.
For a second, Austin seemed genuinely confused.
“Your attitude, I mean. You’ve become so irritable over the last months,“ you paused. “And paranoid. Lashing out at people, stirring shit up...“
Now he seemed to understand what you were trying to get at. 
After he finished adjusting his knee braces, he rubbed his face in a contemplative way. 
“Maybe you should take a break?“ you suggested.
He immediately dismissed the idea. “If I do that, I might as well call it quits. You heard it yourself, Kurt is itching to take my spot, as are all the other guys. You call it paranoid, I call it being prepared.“ 
Austin leaned back and put his arms on the back of the couch, “And I‘d rather be prepared than surprised and stabbed in the back.“
“Okay, I get that. But don‘t you think you‘ve taken it a bit too far lately?“
Images of Austin‘s unfair attack on Michael Cole on live TV a couple of weeks ago flashed before you. 
“Attacking staff? Really?“ you shot him a stern look. “Did you really have to stoop this low? You know Michael-“
You got interrupted by a big, hearty laugh from Austin.
“This is about Cole? You feel sorry for Cole?“ he chuckled.
You failed to recognize what was so funny about your remark.
“Don‘t worry, he can take it. Besides, he had it coming,“ he justified his actions. “He should know better than to run his mouth. He‘s been around long enough.“
When he noticed your dissatisfaction, he let out a sigh and rubbed his eyes. He was tired and he didn‘t want to start arguing with you. 
“But if it makes you feel any better, I can go talk to him.“ He didn‘t flat out say ‘apologize‘, but this was a good start. Better than nothing. 
Your face lit up and he regarded you with a certain spark in his eyes that you couldn‘t quite place.
Once again he inched closer towards you, “I don‘t get why you‘re getting worked up over this. As far as I am concerned, I‘ve always taken real good care of you. Ain‘t that right?“
He paid close attention to your reaction as he placed his hand on your thigh again. “Or would you say otherwise? I‘m open for critique.“
With his hand resting on your thigh, you knew what he was alluding to and you had to admit - he was right. He had always been more than … generous with his affection towards you. The heat between your legs returned and you cursed yourself for reacting that way right now.
“I saw you squirming earlier, “he added when you took too long to reply with a mischievous grin plastered on his face.
Great. And here you thought you were being discreet.
“This isn‘t about me, so don‘t try switching the topic.“ 
Austin raised his hand defensively, “Nobody‘s trying to switch the topic. I simply asked you a question. That‘s all.“
You exhaled through your nose and rolled your eyes with great exaggeration, making sure he saw it. “Yes, you‘re right,“ you disclosed in a flat tone.
„A bit more enthusiasm wouldn‘t hurt, you know. Should I be worried now?“
You stifled a laugh. You were supposed to be mad at him! 
„Feeling insecure now?“ you said and patted the back of his hand.
Mere seconds after those words left your lips Stone Cold grabbed your waist and sat you sideways on his lap.
You were briefly taken aback by the way he picked you up as if you weighed nothing and felt your cheeks heat up. He reached out to tuck one hair strand behind your ear. 
“Don‘t worry, I’m quite robust.“ 
You avoided his gaze. How long until he had to leave for his match? You turned your head to check out the time on the clock behind you. Immediately, he took advantage of you exposing your neck. Austin‘s lips brushed over the thin, sensitive skin on your neck and you held your breath. 
“But I’m curious now. Go on, tell me. How do I make you feel?“
He grinned against your skin as his hand found his way under your shirt, slowly wandering up your back. 
“Don‘t I make you feel good?“ he murmured before slightly biting at the nape of your neck, which had you biting back a moan. 
“Lost your tongue now, huh?“
Oh well, now that you thought about it, you had successfully gotten your point across. Considering the fact that Austin would have to leave for his match soon, you might as well continue this conversation another time you decided.
He bit you again, waiting for an answer.
You pressed your legs together. “Y-Yes, you do..“
Shifting in his lap, you moved in to kiss him, but at the last moment, he pulled away. 
You blinked at him with your lips still pursed. What?
He seemed to revel in your disappointment. 
“Sorry,“ he gestured at the TV behind you. „Gotta get going.“ 
He maneuvered you back onto the couch and got up.
“What’s that sour face for, sweet-cheeks?“ he teased.
He lowered his tone. “I‘ll be back in 30 minutes. You think you can wait that long?“
You sat back and crossed your arms over your chest. Eventually, you nodded and handed him his title. 
A few seconds later he was out the door.
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yuna542 · 2 years ago
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Connected (OT8 x Reader)
Part 18<-
Part 19
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Pairing: Han x Reader
Genre: Fluff, Angst
Warnings: 18+, Suggestive Themes, Swearing, Fighting
Word Count: 3k
Note: Finally a new Part. Hope you like it and I‘m really sorry that you have to wait for new updates. But I want to write things I‘m confident with and that takes some time. <3 You remember that Video of Felix sitting on Hannies legs? Got inspired ;)
On your first day of your new job as the personal manager of Stray Kids, you didn't expect to be standing in front of the man you made out with last night in a club. But it soon becomes clear that the Stray Kids don't just want you as their manager.
Will this passionate arrangement end your career?
"I don't wear panties, you know."
Jisung's wide eyes, pouted mouth, and frozen look on his face was pure gold as you leaned down and whispered in his ear. You didn't know what had made you do it, but you had been so restless since this morning and an excited tingle had been spreading through your stomach all day. The boys made you unsettled, especially living with them. Seeing Chan‘s firm stomach, while he walked around the dorm almost naked every day, or Changbin‘s sweaty body when he came back from working out, Felix morning face, with those big glasses or Jeongins puffy cheeks after showering. All that was too much to handle the whole day, without being able to release some steam. The schedule for all of you were extremely time and energy consuming, which meant you hardly had any time together. It sucked but the preparation for the comeback would soon be over.
Then Jisung started to tease you in front of the whole crew of the Studio Choom Channel. The kids recorded the performance video for the title song today. It was a strong song and you were sure it would hit the fans like a wrecking ball, despite its unusual emotional depth and extreme mixed genres.
The Kids all looked fantastic. The new hair colors looked great on them, and you were especially taken with Han today. Probably because he wouldn't stop teasing you. He was clingy, kept pulling you back by the hand when you whizzed past him, called your name loudly to embarrass you in front of the film crew, and kept stealing little things you needed to work through your checklist. To sum it up: He was getting on your nerves big time with his outrageously handsome face.
While the guys all had enough to do themselves with makeup, outfits and rehearsals, Han seemed to calmly devote his attention only to you. You were already hurrying across the set again, where the lights were set up, and urgently needed to write down the number of one of the new stylists to hire him for the next time as well.
Thanks to him, the outfit selection had gone quickly and smoothly.
You patted down the pockets in your dress and then your bag, but you couldn't find anything there either.
"Jinnie have you seen my pen?", you asked stressed, but he just shook his head:
"Sorry, princess."
Then he proceeded to throw cheeseballs at I.N.
Chan and Felix were sitting in makeup getting made up while Seungmin and Minho were already in front of the camera getting their positions set. Just as you walked past Han, who was lounging in a chair, you wanted to scream out loud at his grin.
"Looking for something?", he asked in an innocent voice, tilting his head so that he could almost rest it against the back of the chair.
Annoyed, you took a deep breath and approached him.
"Where is it? Ji give it to me!", you snapped at him and he just grinned broadly.
"I don't know what you're talking about, sweetie. But when you're mad, you look really hot."
"Stop playing games!"
He chuckled and you wanted to be angry at him so bad, to get that stress off your chest, but he looked at you with so much joy in his shining eyes that you just couldn't do it.
"You... Just wait!", you muttered and your fighting spirit was gradually awakened. That's how it always went between you two. Everything was a game by now and the other was trying to win at any cost. If you weren't so competitive, you might have admitted that playing games with Jisung was fun and you even liked it a little when he annoyed you.
You leaned down towards him and began to scan his upper body with your hands. Irritated, he raised his arms and let you slide your fingers into each pocket and fold of his clothes. But there was nothing there. When you lifted your gaze, his face suddenly hovered directly in front of yours. Your hands were firmly at his stomach, and as the corners of his mouth slowly lifted, you drew your eyebrows together.
"Go ahead and keep looking! Maybe it's hidden in my pants. You should search there."
His suggestive tone of voice was unmistakable.
Shaking your head, you couldn't hide the smirk at his audacity. Slowly you let your hands wander into his lap and braced yourself against his thigh, arching your back a little. The red accent in his hair made him look even bolder, and today mischievousness shone in his eyes to a whole new extent.
"Isn't Minho playing with you today, or why are you so needy for my attention?", you asked provocatively, and immediately his eyes darted to your lips.
It would be way to easy to overcome the minimal distance for him to kiss you and you loved to stir him up like that.
You squeezed his thigh lightly and as if by itself he looked into your cleavage next.
"I'd much rather play with you. You have better arguments", he shot back, clearly alluding to what he hoped to catch a glimpse of under your dress. Now the corners of your mouth lifted as well, and you got an urge to take it to the extreme to see who would give up first.
"Tell me where my pen is now or you'll never see a glimpse of those arguments again, Ji!", you muttered dangerously, digging your fingernails into his leg until he hissed.
Then he nodded behind you.
"There it is..."
You followed his gaze and rolled your eyes directly. Of course, the pen was lying on the floor right in front of his chair. He must have thrown it there before you got to him.
You pushed yourself away from him and understood his plan too late. It was only when you bent down to pick up the pencil that finally the penny dropped. Glancing over your shoulder, you saw Jisung with his hands clasped behind his head, leaning back in his chair and enjoying the view of your butt peeking out from under your dress.
From the satisfied look on his face, you knew his plan had worked. You stood up and as you walked by, you murmured to him:
"You can only lose this game, dickhead."
Jeongin looked confused at you two, but Minho only shook his head at him and gestured for him to say nothing. He was already used to your bickering and knew it was better not to interfere. There was always that weird sexual tension which everybody left speechless.
Finally, you had unceremoniously disappeared into the bathroom as the boys were busy shooting the first part of the choreography. You slipped out of your pink lace panties and crumpled them up in your hand.
When you came back, the guys sat together in a little break where makeup and hair were touched up.
Seemingly by chance, you sat down next to Han, who was talking to the director. He advised him to stand at a different angle to the camera for his part, and Han nodded vehemently. Under the table, you apparently randomly brushed Han's thigh with your leg and smiled to yourself as he stiffened next to you.
"I don't wear panties, you know", you whispered to him at a moment when the Director across the table was talking to Chan. Han's mouth opened and closed like a fish and he had obviously forgotten everything the Director had said to him.
If he gave you a hard time at work, so could you.
His gaze was glued to your lap and he inevitably imagined you wearing nothing else under that skimpy black dress.
"You're bluffing", he finally whispered, slowly lifting his gaze to look you in the eye.
You crossed your legs and returned his gaze with such intensity that it gave him goosebumps.
You closed your elegant fingers around his hand under the table and with the other hand you put your lace panties in his palm before you just stood up and disappeared. Just as the director turned back to address him, Jisung stared down at his hand where the piece of thin fabric now lay. You saw him snap out of his daze at the third repetition of his name, and he quickly slipped your underpants into his pocket.
You had won this round, that was clear.
Self-satisfied, you watched him give you warning looks as soon as he was back on the set. For the rest of the shoot, he never had a chance to talk to you. There was always someone around who could listen and so he was forced to watch you with the knowledge of your bare cunt, when you were squeezing your knees together while sitting down or adjusting your dress.
It drove him crazy. He wanted to rip the dress off your body and risk a glimpse of your naked middle, to finally get that temptation out of his head. That only he knew and couldn't tell anybody made it so much worse.
After hours of dancing and tons of repetition, he dropped loudly onto the couch. A small seating area had been set up next to the set so the guys could take a break there and watch the footage.
Felix and Jeongin sat on the second couch while Chan and Hyunjin watched the choreography on the screens to judge if they were happy with it. Your feet were already hurting from the long day, and even the walk to pick up the coffee you ordered felt like an eternity.
But now you were walking around distributing the orders among the guys and the staff. When you were about to give one of the last coffees to Felix, Jisung looked up from the sofa with wide eyes. You could see exactly how much the whole thing kept him busy and that he had your panties in his pocket the whole time, even during the shoot, didn't let him rest for a second.
You handed Felix the only milkshake and he smiled brightly at you.
Seungmin leaned back on an armchair with a tissue stuck to his forehead so his makeup wouldn't be ruined by the sweat. Changbin sat at the other end of the sofa with closed eyes, so there was a gap between him and Han.
"You could have sent someone to get the coffee", said Minho, sitting in an armchair and propping his elbows on his knees, the coffee between his hands.
"Yes. But no one but me can remember your confusing extra requests", you said with amusement, taking the last cup from the cardboard box.
"That's why we love you", Jeongin sighed, exhaling with relish as he took a sip from his cup.
"Come here and I'll thank you appropriately!", flirted Changbin suddenly awake again, winking charmingly at you. He stroked one hand up your thigh to the hem of your skirt.
"Stop that, Bin!”, you breathed with a laugh and quickly jumped on before anyone saw how red your cheeks were getting just because of his touch. You ran over to Han and handed him his iced Americano.
"Does it have cream in it?", he asked just to annoy you, and you coolly returned his gaze. Of course, he had to keep provoking.
You withdrew your hand just as he was about to grab it, opened the lid and took a big gulp.
"Yes... Yes there's cream in it," you said, continuing to deny him the cup.
He tried to reach for it, but you held it a little higher so he couldn't reach it from a sitting position.
"What's the matter, Hannie? Do you need caffeine to get back on your feet?", you asked with a sweet undertone, like you were talking to a puppy and the others watched you intently. Han pouted and fell back on the couch. His legs were apparently barely cooperating. After hours of dancing, it was no wonder.
"Give me that! Please! I need this. My legs hurt like hell."
You looked down at him and considered teasing him further for a moment, but he looked really exhausted. So you sighed and gave him the cup. Hastily he started to drink a big gulp. Coffee was really like gasoline for the kids. It only took one full cup and they were working again.
But you were also done so you wanted to sit down between him and Changbin. It was the only empty seat and your feet were screaming for a break.
Jisung realized this as he put his coffee down on the floor. He was faster than you and spun to put his legs across the couch. Uncomprehending, you stared at him and he just looked back with an innocent face.
"What are you doing?", you asked, and he clasped his hands behind his head.
He widened his eyes on purpose and grinned in amusement, to mock you. With a snort, you simply turned around and dropped onto his thighs. Immediately his upper body shot up and a tortured cry escaped him as your entire weight abruptly landed on his already exhausted thighs.
But you made no move to get up and his whining quickly turned to a frown as you slid around a bit on his legs to get comfortable.
"What?", you snapped at him as he just glared at you.
"Do that again!", he urged you, and you looked down at his legs in wonder. His thighs under yours felt tense and you could feel the fabric of his pants right against your bare core. Slowly you moved your pelvis back and forth and an overwhelmed moan escaped him.
"Oh. That feels good!"
The pressure you applied to his tense muscles with your legs was more than pleasurable for him and his head fell back into his neck.
"Does that massage you? Does that really help?", you asked in wonder, moving a little harder as you braced yourself against the back of the sofa behind you. Another loud gasp escaped him and he clasped your thigh with both hands.
"Yeah... That's good. It feels good", he sighed and you had to grin as his fingernails dug into your inner thigh as soon as you put more pressure with your left thigh on his bulge. Suddenly he opened his eyes and your gazes met. Now he felt your exposed cunt right up against his thigh and the friction of your bare skin right on his length, sent heat racing between his legs.
"Wha... Hold still!", he breathed suffocated.
He grabbed your thigh so tightly you couldn't move and pressed it against the growing hardness between his legs. That had been far too easy.
His hands were so tense against your thighs that his veins stood out, and the silver rings he wore pressed cool against your skin.
A choking gasp escaped him that you had only heard so far when he had fucked you as you rolled your hips harder against his lap.
At that point, Hyunjin cleared his throat loudly and glancing over at him, you noticed the cameraman shooting the Making-Off for the Stray Kids channel much too late.
Had he been recording all of this? Han also cleared his throat softly and his cramped fingers would definitely leave marks on your skin. So you leaned back, seeming relaxed, and had to grin into yourself when you felt the outline of his hard dick pressed against the underside of your thigh.
"Are you okay, Ji?", you asked in the most innocent tone of voice that had ever crossed your lips, and he just glared at you with clenched teeth. His face was fiery red by now, even though he tried to look unbothered.
You started a casual conversation with Jeongin and Seungmin until the cameraman lost interest and Chan started talking to the camera. Han was never so quiet in his life.
Not long after, he excused himself and disappeared.
You didn't meet him again until you were in the car half an hour later. The shoot was finished and you could finally go home. So you had the afternoon free.
In the car you felt Jisung's piercing gaze on you and that could only mean one thing:
He would pay you back.
At the dorm, you had just set a foot over the threshold when Han pushed past you and jumped into the hallway, making you almost loose your balance.
"Why are you so annoying?", you snapped at him, and he stepped so close to you that you had to tilt your head back to look him in the eye.
He bent down and grinned meanly while one hand gripped your ass and the other held your waist tightly.
"I love it when you look at me like that", he teased, squeezing your flesh until you hissed and pushed him away by his chest.
"Can you just shut up for five minutes, Ji?"
The others watched you silently as they slipped out of their shoes. Despite the apparent argument, there was so much tension in the air between you that it almost seemed like you were having fun with it. The others just waited for you to pounce on each other.
"Just ask nicely. You know I love it when you beg."
"I liked you better with your head between my legs. At least you were quiet then."
Felix almost tripped over Jeongin, who froze and put both hands to his mouth. Changbin snorted loudly and Hyunjin grabbed Chan's arm to stop himself from bursting out with laughter, exactly like Chan who looked at you with disbelieving eyes.
"Shots fired!", laughed Seungmin and Minho patted Han's shoulder as he walked by, as if to comfort him. Ji looked at you speechlessly as well, but instead of countering, the corners of his mouth lifted ever so slowly.
You were just able to kick off your shoes before he grabbed your arm and dragged you into his room.
Behind him, the door flew shut with a loud bang and before you could take a breath, he pressed his lips to yours.
->Part 20
——————————————————————-
© Yuna542 — 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.
Taglist (closed):
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vespervanbebber · 3 months ago
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when he wins, we will go backwards. It will get worse.
They will hate, and they will be proud of it.
And things, will get Bad.
And maybe, as some say, this will be the dismantling of ‘America‘ (tm). That, the empire falls. That, the oncoming storm signifies a new world war. Or something.
But when he wins, I‘m not going just Watch as things get worse and worse. I‘m not going
to lose.
And we‘ll see
We‘ll see how hard he wins. How bad it gets.
And if it gets really fucking bad, and all my protesting and all my fighting ends up with some nasty little visit from the nasty little restructured government, knocking on my door to take me away,
I‘m not going to be there. I‘m not going to go.
Because there IS something to the endless trumpeted (ha) ‘freedom and anarchy‘ argument from those ultra-survivalist, gung-ho first amendment dick riders: “That we must be Ready to Fight the Government when it finally wants to take Everything away“.
And they are right.
A well armed minority is harder to oppress.
And so, after I have done everything I can to peacefully dissent; after I have screamed my voice hoarse, Raging Against the Machine;
They‘ll come for me.
If things get bad.
And I will disappear.
I will use all those skills that are so hatefully coveted by the racists and homophobes and pedo-protectors and so on and on and on like a Star-Wars title crawl of skin crawling depravity, against them.
And Once everything becomes so extreme that they are Taking people from their homes, because they have dissented, by dissent or existence,
-If, things get that bad-
Then I will join them on their level.
Let America become the third world country it has never gotten to be.
Things aren‘t bad yet.
They look like they might Get bad, things aren‘t bad yet and you already see republican idiots missing shots
at their own presidential candidate.
And so, oh here me, you knock-off annoying orange leather-skinned used-steel-wool lookin fishdick, If It comes down to It,
If you start coming for me and my friends.
Hell, if you start coming for anyone
I will assure you, that America, true America, founded on the bricks of stonewall, the eradication of smallpox, the backs of ringfighting immagrants just scraping by, the endless sky above plains and forests that is not gone yet, the men and men and women that somehow landed men and men and women on the moon, will cost you. We will cost you dearly.
Because if you look at it, in most everywhere she is losing, she is losing by 3%.
Do you want to go to war?
Do you want to go to war with 47% of America?
It doesn‘t take a historian (though I am one, by degree) to recall how that went for you last time.
Civil war two. I can be Sherman. You can be dead.
Because I know that there must be at least a few, enough other like me out there.
Others who are Just as capable
of your hateful, spiteful violence
as you are.
More even.
We won‘t miss.
And unlike you, who will be out, on the street, or in your homes, or at the supermarket, preaching your hateful hymns,
I will be hiding
I will be in the woods, with the fairies and horrible terrible naught
I will be shadows, and Grassy Knolls, and theatre booths,
And you will be gone.
Of course, this is If he wins.
and this is if it gets real bad.
I hope it doesn‘t.
Of course, it shouldn‘t have to.
I shouldn‘t be strategizing with my trans buddy about possibly fleeing the country.
But it is what it is.
And if what it is what it is is real nasty,
expect nasty back.
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astridhoff03 · 26 days ago
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DreamWorks is getting started again! 🌙✨
I‘m honestly excited of what the untitled films or series might be. But I guess they are either book adaptations or a script from an original idea from the creative minds behind DreamWorks. For Shrek 5 and the Wild Robot 2 I‘m still a bit skeptical, but maybe they can do something with it, but I thought the same about Kung Fu Panda 4 and we all know how that ended. So I‘m not very hyped for the Kung Fu Panda 5 because it’s like four still unnecessary. Still the DreamWorks‘ Sequel I‘m most hyped and excited for is the Bad Guys 2. And after Shrek 5 we will maybe get a sequel to Puss in Boots 2, the possibility is still 50 50 though but I’m patient and let’s be honest they were incredibly dumb if they didn’t make a sequel to one of their best movies ever. I would also like to see some Rise of the Guardians Sequel. Rise of the guardians would have incredible franchise potential with its mythical figures from folklore. As long as they don’t Megamind 2 us. With the Donkey movie I‘m still not on board, mostly because of the fact that Donkey doesn’t work without Shrek. You just can’t Puss in Boots in him. But what I also like about this list is, that there are also many original titles, which suggest DreamWorks will not Sequel bait us all the time, even though their Sequels are incredible, they will still give us original content and no remakes, which proofs my point, that Universal will be fully calling the shots for the upcoming DreamWorks live action remakes. Which are original Universal remakes of DreamWorks movies, were they just put the logo on it to show: hey DreamWorks is also going to make live action remakes. Even though it’s in reality their overlord Universal. Who will be the next victims of remakes on Universals black list of milking beloved franchises? But I have nothing against them milking the Trolls franchise, there they can go to infinity and beyond with it.
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autumnapricot · 4 months ago
Note
Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers! Spread the self-love 💞 because I love your fics <333
ohh, thank you 🥰🫶🏼
(warning: major yapping incoming. no seriously.)
[1] will o‘ the wisps
quite obviously, lol! this story just has a special place in my heart, for the fact that i‘ve had the ground idea for so long, all the details that went into it that for most part probably even went unnoticed to the readers but were so important for me personally, the planning of things, the way i had like a list of the details and easter eggs and everything. also, the name (not to toot my own horn) but i truly had the biggest *oooohhh!!!* moment when i found this title for the story and it just fit so so perfectly. the vibe when i wrote it. yeah, just a lot of love. also it‘s my most „hit“ fic i‘ve ever written and wow, i would have never ever imagined to get this reaction to my writing, ever. like i saw the fics from other brilliant amazing writers in the fandom that‘d get 1-3k kudos and i was like what the hell, that‘s crazy much. and then wotw hit +1k kudos and i was (still am) mindblown by that because imagine 1k people irl telling you they love what you wrote? insane. and all your guys comments and asks and i‘ve gotten some of the greatest comments eeeveron this fic, like, just wow. i write for myself because i just have these ideas and words and stories in my head that i need to get out and one day decided to upload because i thought maybe a few people would perhaps like it, have a little joy with it, but of course validation is always amazing and nice, so this reception is mindblowing for me. also i now kind of wish i could rewrite some parts of the story, do some plots more or different or just write differently, but i always hate kinda hate my fics after a while and think i could have done better. but still, so much love for this fic <3
[2] friday night; i‘m in love
just for the vibe of this fic, it‘s my second fave :)) i remember i had such a good time writing this—it was the first time i went to a park to write and i stayed in that park for hours and just…wrote. this fic. and the song makes up the whole vibe of that time of that summer when i wrote this, so. just vibey. reminds me of good times but also somehow bad times. i got a comment that said „so this is what loneliness feels like“ and for someone reason that has stuck with me a hell of a lot.
[3] shores of forgiveness
this is not f1 but motogp, which is a rather little fandom on ao3 and at times idk what possessed me to write this, but, for some reason i do like it? idek. i don‘t even ‚ship‘ rosquez because oh my god, what a fucking mess that „relationship“ or well, that whole..thing..is. but that‘s somehow exactly what i love about them because fuck me that shit hurts and i lived through the split of worlds!! 2015 sepang. the press conference before? marc’s face? i wanna crumple like a leaf in the wind and to be carried away by them so fast that not even any fleeting emotions would ever graze me again. the coldness of 2016. 2018 argentina?? bro what a time to be alive (not!!). you need to know the whole rosquez lore to understand because my god. it hurts too good. literally as of this week’s events…imagine your childhood idol and absolute hero and later friend and now arch-nemesis still going on podcasts t.e.n. years later and still shit-talking you into the ground about how you’re the worst person to have ever lived and the worst thing to happen to this sport and entire nations hate you and and and!! well, ANYWAY, back to it: i don‘t remember the whole thing anymore actually. but still third! byee (fun fact: i have a rosquez playlist that literally consists of songs to scream in the car in anger and heartbreak, and it‘s my kinda therapy oops. as you can see, i am very invested in them still)
[4] but if it ain‘t you (it‘s a lie)
idk. sometimes i forget about this fic oops. but i do like it, i like me some soft besotted absolutely gone in-love alpha charles and cutie-patootie omega max. i don‘t even like the smut of this. actually why am putting this on fourth?🤣 buuttt i also remember the car rides where i listened to the song and then just randomly sat down, wrote this in one sitting, done. i think i wrote this at work even. well well well
[5] now, i am become death
listen. liiisten. i don‘t even remember writing this whole thing. literally two weeks ago i randomly looked through my works, saw this, halted, and was like—who wrote this? me?? when, where??? when did these words ever spook my mind? i reread it and yk what, it‘s fifth. no clue what‘s going on but hey. swords and blood!
anyway waaay too many thoughts, i’m so sorry, thank you! 🩵🤍
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skipper1331 · 10 months ago
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Secret (2) // Alexia Putellas
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| Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4 | extra |
She didn‘t try to follow you.
She didn‘t try to text or call you.
She didn‘t try to fight for you.
She let you.
She let you walk through that door.
She let you go.
They say that you only really appreciate something when it is no longer there - she understood that now. It never occurred to her how terrible it must have been for you to be her "secret," even if she never wanted it that way.
Plagued by the fear of what others would think or what would happen, she dreamed of a love without worries and anxiety; in her eyes, this love only happened behind closed doors. She didn't realize how bad it actually was for you, even though she knew exactly that you wanted a typical romance book love story. She didn't deserve you and even less deserved that you had put up with her in secret for so long.
You, on the other hand, were caught up in your anger. You had put up with this secrecy for over a year, but a limit had been crossed - your heart ached just in her presence.
She had managed to nestle herself in your heart with her charming smile, her sparkling eyes and her elegant but captivating nature. She was Alexia Putellas, of course she had done it. She could do anything when she set her mind to. She had won the Ballon D‘or twice, the World Cup and dozens of other trophies and titles - only the title of calling you her wife, she hadn't managed.
In the nights where she couldn‘t sleep, she had dreamed of marrying you - you were different. Any feelings she knew before no longer existed. It was only you.
And you were no longer hers.
-
After your break up with the Catalonian, your motivation started to rise again as the weight you had been carrying in your heart and on your shoulders wasn‘t there anymore. You went out with your friends, explored the city a bit more and focused on yourself. You deserved to be happy and you knew that. You treated yourself with new shoes (shoes you had been eyeing for awhile) and finally an own Netflix account.
In training, you went to your absolute limits, playing wonderfully and yet having fun - the love to the sport filled your veins again.
You were glowing - the new look suited you.
But when you were at home, it was different. Two people met at the doorstep. Person 1 who glowed and person 2 who sulked. As soon as the threshold was crossed, personality 2 took over your body, mind and soul. Your broken heart showed itself. You hadn't managed to remove the second toothbrush in your bathroom or empty Alexia’s drawer yet. Her clothes were yours too, you wore them as soon as personality 2 needed the comfort which was needed constantly.
You cried.
You screamed into your pillow.
You ate ice cream, chocolate, anything.
Watched sad shows and movies.
And cried more.
Nobody seemed to notice your switch of personality - who should?
No one knew that you and Alexia used to be a couple..
No one knew that your heart was broken..
I‘m capable of handling that on my own.
I‘m an independent woman.
..except one person: Alba.
unknown
hey, it‘s Alba.
Ale told me what happened.
If you need someone to talk to (a friend), feel free to message me:)
You appreciated that she sent you a message, her intention probably kindhearted but she was Alexia‘s sister after all.
You replied with 'thank you' and sort of an appreciation.
Time would heal your wounds. Hopefully.
In the nexts weeks, you focused on the upcoming uwcl matches and getting enough recovery after your training sessions.
You like to think that you didn‘t even look at Alexia but you knew better than that. She‘s Alexia and breathtaking, you could not not look at her.
But you tried your hardest not to give in when she looked at you, looking at you with those sad doe eyes. Sometimes it seemed like she wanted to approach you or even say something yet she never did, she stayed silent.
Was it wrong to hope for her approach? That she would just kiss you in the middle of the pitch?
Maybe it was wrong but you couldn’t help it. You loved her and you knew she loved you too. And love, no matter how much you want it sometimes, doesn't just disappear. It always leaves its mark.
Added to that, Alexia wasn‘t just anybody - she was the first person with whom you truly felt the butterflies and every cheesy book describing feeling.
She could have been your greatest love story - the love story you always wished for.
-
"Good luck" Alexia said, her hand brushing against yours as she walked past you.
She smiled a bit, immediately looking away, joining Aitana and Keira.
"Good luck" you whispered back, surprised that she had spoken to you, nonetheless kindly accepting that she did.
The first leg against Chelsea went alright, Aitana opened the score as you made it 2-0, 5 minutes before the ref blew her whistle.
You shook hands with each opponent and talking to your friends for a bit.
"Oh please, I’m your biggest fan, swap your jersey with me" the dramatic voice of Niamh Charles shrilled through the conversation you were having with Guro and Erin. You laughed, Niamh‘s arm around your shoulder, "oh please, please" she fake cried, the girl nothing but laughter in her voice.
"Aren‘t the dozens of my jersey enough?" you joined, laughing.
It was an unspoken rule whenever Niamh and you faced each other to swap jerseys as the two of you had met in the u-teams, becoming friends in an instant and being close friends ever since.
"Nah, babe, you know I can never get enough of you" she rolled her eyes, pressing a sloppy kiss to cheek.
Disgusted, you wiped it off and shoved her away.
Alexia watched the scene in front of her with fire in her eyes, oh how she hated Niamh - the green eyed monster talking.
"Jealous?" the soft voice of Ingrid pulled her back to reality.
"¿Que? No! I’m not jealous" Alexia’s accent was thick, her voice raspy and mind completely somewhere else.
"You should ask her out, I think she likes you" the Norse proposed, tapping the Catalonians shoulder as she walked to Frido, leaving the captain alone.
Ale had always suspected that Fridolina and Ingrid knew about the two of you because they were your best friends, but that wasn't the case. Alexia realized that only now since Ingrid had suggested asking you out - you had always been honest and respectful with her wishes - accepting them, even though they broke your heart day by day.
No one knew that you were more than just teammates.
They were clueless.
You were amazing.
And she was stupid - stupid to think that you would tell anyone when you hadn't even told your best friends and stupid for letting you go.
-
The second leg ended up in 2-1, 4-1 on average which meant that Barcelona would play in the Champions League final.
You were thrilled when the ref blew his whistle, so happy about the fact that you had the chance to win the trophy.
On the other hand, you felt bad for the Chelsea players, they had given everything as they tried their best to win. Unfortunately for them, it wasn‘t enough. You approached Niamh who had tears in her eyes, pulling her in a hug. You comforted her the best you could but loosing an important match would sting for awhile, no matter how much you praised the defender for her game.
"You know, I will burn your jersey at home" the defender chuckled, nonetheless taking her jersey off while you did the same - swap.
"That‘s only fair" you grinned, wearing now the blue shirt.
Once again, Alexia glared at Niamh, hating the fact that you were wearing 'Charles 21' on the back instead of 'Alexia 11' or 'Putellas and your number' but she knew it was her own fault.
If she had just listened to you or introduced you as her girlfriend with such pride right from the start then she wouldn't be in the situation of a broken heart and jealousy.
She loved you and was forever sorry for hiding and neglecting you.
You deserved better than that, way better.
-
Winning the champions league felt euphoric.
The final match had been intense, both sides fighting for goals as the ref showed many yellows cards.
But Barcelona did it, they had done the unthinkable - beating Lyon and taking their revenge.
It didn‘t matter that the score was only 1-0. That one goal meant more than anything to everybody of the team. You felt so much pride and joy, the stadium chanting while you received your medals and lifting the trophy.
You wanted to cherish this moment forever.
"I‘m proud of you" la reina stated as she stood next to you. You didn’t even notice that she had approached you.
"Thank you, Ale, it means a lot" you smiled at the midfielder. Your smile was so genuine and wide, your eyes sparkly and shiny - you looked so beautiful, in Alexia’s eyes.
She couldn’t help but kiss your forehead.
You let her.
Her lips lingered for a moment, pulling back with rosy cheeks before she walked to her mother and sister who were waiting in the stands.
Your eyes followed the Catalonian, her mother hugging her tightly while Alba looked in the direction Ale came from - she saw you and waved.
-
Back in Barcelona, the team + family/ friends went out to celebrate. Drinks were getting drowned, songs were being yelled and dance moves were being showed. The vibe and mood was amazing, everybody letting loose after the last few intense weeks.
You couldn’t remember how many drinks you‘ve had but it was a good amount - each of them delicious.
Making your way over to the bar, you ordered yet another drink. You wouldn’t say you were drunk per se but you also weren’t sober anymore.
Nobody was, or cared.
You won the champions league, you were allowed to party.
While you waited for your drink, a familiar unfamiliar voice talked to you, "hola"
you turned to the side, seeing the younger Putellas standing next to you.
"hi" you replied.
"Congratulations! Your goal was amazing" she beamed while you smiled and mumbled a thanks. "my sister can be an ass, you know? Oh yeah, you do." she giggled at her own joke - she clearly wasn‘t sober either, "but she loves you. She‘s been sulking for weeks."
You tried to listen the best you could, questioning if you would remember the conversation in the morning.
"She even told mamá about you and how she fucked things up"
You gasped, "no way! She talked about me? I‘m so shocked"
The sister laughed, playfully hitting your chest as you joined her laughter - eyes watching the two of you.
"You should make her jealous"
"Yeah, sure" you replied, rolling your eyes, "as if Ale‘s jealous"
"More than you think. She doesn’t like your friend Charles, for example. 'she should wear my name' blah blah blah" Alba explained, your mind spinning for several reasons.
"How should I make her jealous then?"
"Easy. Follow me" the girl grabbed your arm, pulling you on the dance floor, "hey! my drink" you grumbled, the Putellas sister ignoring you.
She turned around, looping her arms around your waist as yours went around her neck. You followed Alba‘s lead, Shakira blasting through the speakers. Looking around, you searched for Alexia. It didn‘t take long to find those pretty eyes who looked nothing but angry. Her jaw was clenched, hands balled into fists as she shifted uncomfortably around.
She was not enjoying the show.
"Bet she‘ll be here in 3…" Alba leaned in, "2…." as you did the same, "1…"
Strong hands on your hips pulled you away, a protective arm smacking around your waist, Alexia glaring at her sister - so much fire in her eyes, "you‘re allowed to look but do not touch what’s mine" she growled, "now leave" her voice was stern and firm. Your ex girlfriend stood now in front of you, looking at you, checking you out while Alba walked away, winking at you.
"You look nice" the girl smiled charmingly, the green eyed monster completely gone.
"What was that?!"
"I said you looked-"
"No. Do not touch what’s mine?!" you mocked, your heart secretly racing at her possessiveness.
"I won‘t let her kiss you!" her voice was raised, jealousy pumping through her veins again, "I‘m the only one who will do so" the thought of you ever touching, kissing, loving someone else made Alexia furios.
She loved you.
"Do you understand me?"
The alcohol in Ale‘s system made her bold, confident and possessive - she didn‘t care who was watching or listening. All she cared about was you.
You had never seen her like that before - openly jealous, with her hands on your hips and chests touching in public - it was hot. She was hot.
"Yes, I do" you replied, somehow starstruck.
"Good girl"
You died on the spot.
Was it hot in here? It definitively was! Or was it just Alexia?
It was just Alexia.
Your knees went weak, your heart was racing and skin on fire.
In a crowded bar, surrounded by family, friends and colleagues she smashed her lips against yours. You responded as eagerly while she tried to pull you impossibly closer - oh, how she had missed you and your kisses.
This kiss wasn‘t like the ones you shared before, it was pure need.
"Let‘s go" the midfielder mumbled, trying to catch her breath, the same as you did. She waited for a respond - your consent - before she left.
With you.
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ladykailitha · 6 months ago
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WIP Wednesday Game
It’s WIP Wednesday, time for a little accountability, sharing your work, and getting a kick in the pants.
Here’s how it works:
In a reblog (or new post w/ rules attached), post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.
Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!
After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write at least 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.
That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. If you tag me in your post, I will send you an ask request!
If you’re reading this, you’re invited!
If you see someone posting a WIP Wednesday Game snippet, send them an ask! Make them write.
My only problem is that I tend to file name what the title is so I can find it easier, so...here’s what they were called before I titled them.
“File” Names
Metal Band AU
Strip Club AU
Sugar baby!Steve/Sugar daddy!Eddie AU
Snippet
“Cher,” Eddie said to Chrissy, “how’s that crush coming now?”
Chrissy hit his arm. “Oh yeah, it was bad when she was just a cute waiter, but now she’s got this weird sibling relationship with the hottest dancer you’ve ever hired, this is way worse.”
“Glad you made the distinction about hired dancer,” he huffed. “If I‘m not the fairest of them all, I start throwing apples.”
Chrissy’s eyes lit up. “Ooh, we should have a fairy tale night where everyone dances to different fairy tales. With your looks you’d be perfect for Snow White. The pale skin, the dark hair, just add the red lips and it would be perfect.”
Eddie rubbed his chin. “We could even do it on a Sunday, because most of the fairy tales are about envy right? Snow White, Cinderella, Beauty and the Beast, even Hansel and Gretel. Start coming up with fairy tales you’d want to do and we start practicing for it.”
“You’ve got it, babe!” Chrissy said with a kiss on his cheek.
****
It's that great and wonderful time of the week again! WIP Wednesday!
You'll notice no Boy w/a Bat this week because I'm too close to the end and don't want it spoiled for you guys.
The game runs from 8am-11pm EST.
Send in as many asks as you want as often as you want.
@mira-jadeamethyst @zerokrox-blog @forgottenkanji @w1ll0wtr33 @thesecondfate
@acingthecounts @beelze-the-bubkiss @just-a-tiny-void @kultiras @niniel-karenine
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tys-kitty · 1 year ago
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About the Faerie title theories
The Seelie Queen was a traitor who helped as an ally in the crimes of the Dark War. The reason why Sebastian was able to open portals from Hell through Faerie to the Mortal world to kidnap, possess & kill all those Shadowhunters. Including Julian and the Blackthorns Father & Amatis. The reason he was able to kidnap Jocelyn & Magnus, the reason he was able to kill Raphael. The reason why the Cohort didn’t help bring Mark or Helen back because the Shadowhunter government stopped trusting Faeries due to her actions. The Seelie Queen was an extremely resentful & smug ally of his.
So I sure hope she’s not the one to rule Faerie by the end of the series 😟 Especially since we see that her behavior is still as arrogant, conniving, self serving, cold and self victimizing in TDA as it was in TMI, meaning she didn’t learn much from her wrong doings in the past 5+ years she’s been banished of sorts.
I really still hope she pays for her crimes! She’ll never be a good influence for Ash whether she acts maternal now or not.. I wouldn’t even put it past her to think that she might’ve intentionally gotten pregnant by a Morgenstern to have power over Clary and the Shadowhunters out of spite since she never liked them or Clary specifically with their bad history, which makes her becoming a mother all seem so much worse. Ash being raised by Clary instead would be so much better for him or even Luke Valentines old bestfriend before he turned into a bad guy with Kieran as the cool cousin that rules Faerie.
Totally agree with you, anon!
The Seelie queen is one of the most horrible and most underrated villains in TSC. She always plays a part when something terrible happens and always chooses to ally with the evil side.
Even though I said in my theory that I think she will take over the Seelie and Unseelie Court and unite them, I don‘t think TSC will end with her ruling over Faerie. Because let‘s be honest: Faerie has a lot of potential to be a damn awesome place but that won‘t happen with her on the throne.
In the end I‘m pretty excited to see what happens with Faerie. Because as of now, I can‘t really picture Kieran, Ash or Kit ruling over it, simply because they‘ve never wanted or asked for that kind of power. And obviously the Seelie queen won‘t stay on the throne, because I think we will indeed see a great change in Faerie (maybe they will alley with the rest of the Shadowworld at last)
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tales-of-kaylor · 9 months ago
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The Tortured Poets Department - first thoughts
Thought I‘d share my thoughts on some of the songs after the second listen. My brain isn‘t equipped to process 31 songs, so I‘m focusing on the original tracks for now 😅 (I also left out a few of the original tracks because I have no coherent thoughts on them yet.)
I can‘t wait to read everybody else’s thoughts and discuss them!
- The title track could definitely be from Karlie’s perspective (thank you for your message anon)
- My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys: there are so many kid/childhood references on this album (I wonder why). This song being one of them. It‘s one of my favorites right now. Cause I knew too much, there was danger in the heat of my touch. He saw forever so he smashed it up is so queercoded!
- Down Bad: I haven’t formed full thoughts about this song but it feels to me like it could be about Scott Borchetta? I could also see it being about Karlie and their situationship in the beginning?
- So long, London: Imo there’s also traces of Scott Borchetta in here. I‘m pissed off you let me give you all that youth for free. | And you say I abandoned the ship but I was going down with it. | Just how low did you think I‘d go before I‘d self-implode? Before I‘d have to go be free?
- But Daddy I Love Him: This is my personal track 5 because it absolutely broke me. The imagery, the message that she was caged at a young age and made to do as she was told is beautiful and heartbreaking at the same time. I just learned these people try and save you cuz they hate you. | I‘ll tell you something right now, I‘d rather burn my life down than listen to one more second of all this bitchin‘ and moanin‘. I‘ll tell you something about my good name, it‘s mine alone to disgrace. | Thinking it can change the beat of my heart when he [she] touches me and counteract the chemistry and undo the destiny.
- Fresh Out The Slammer: This song is very intriguing. I‘m reading it as, the love blackout is over. All those nights you kept me going, swirled you into all of my poems. Now we‘re art the starting line, I did my time.
- Florida!!!: Is this connected to the End Game music video?
- Guilty as Sin: Gay sex.
- Who‘s Afraid of Little Old Me: This song is so good! So much anger, no filter. I‘m here for it! The way she screams Who‘s Afraid of Little Old Me sends dopamine to my brain.
- I Can Do It With A Broken Heart: It‘s a bop. The last line Try and come for my job is everything. I know everyone thinks this song is about the Eras Tour, but I‘m not convinced.
- The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived: another Scott Borchetta song imo. I just want to know if rusting my sparkling summer was the goal. Her rumored coming out in June 2019? Also… that bridge 🤯
- The Alchemy: On the surface this seems to be about TK but when you look closer it’s a Kaylor song imo. These blokes warm the benches. This line reminds me of exile and is probably about the beards.
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