#i Sure too wonder if he is Wearing the bulletproof vest from earlier as well

[newscarsting]

i dont really Support his. " British " kind But he was very fun to Draw

[teawaffles]

The Conspiratorial Bullet: Chapter 2

“Oh my…… I thought this would be nothing more than a war game, but it’s certainly more nerve-wracking than I expected.”

The participants had taken their places, and around five minutes had passed since the game began. Kevin was whispering to Albert beside him as they walked, while pointing the gun he’d received in every direction around him. But in contrast to the jittery man, Albert had the relaxed air of a soldier.

“Certainly, this is a feeling of tension one wouldn’t normally get to experience. In fact, the enemy might just be around that corner.”

“What!? Really?”

Panicked, Kevin’s eyes darted all around them in a fluster. That disproportionate reaction elicited a wry laugh from Albert.

“Although it’s important to be aware of your surroundings, if you’re that stiff, your movements will be slow when it’s time to fight. Please relax a little.”

“I-I see. Yes, you’re right……”

Kevin nodded. Beside him, Albert’s guard was impeccable as he watched the leaves swaying in the slight breeze.

The playing field encompassed the entire forest. That said, as it wasn’t a vast area, there was no danger of getting lost. In addition, there was a little cabin in the woods, used on a daily basis by the gamekeeper who managed the hunting grounds; as they had obtained permission to use it during the game, indoor battles were also an option.

For the purposes of safety, all players were obliged to wear spectacles shaped to resemble goggles, as well as bulletproof vests. The guns they had been issued fell into two categories: revolvers and sniper rifles. As a forfeit, and also to pass the time, eliminated players were tasked to feed pheasant chicks at a game bird nursery a good distance away.

Incidentally, Herder had also wanted to impose a severe punishment in the event a gun was damaged. Foreseeing that this would create needless worry, Moran and the others had swiftly hushed him before the words left his mouth.

Thinking back to the explanation of the rules, Kevin looked at the revolver in his hand.

“In any case, this gun is exquisitely crafted. As it was mentioned earlier that the guns used fake bullets, I imagined it would resemble a toy, but it looks exactly like the real thing.”

“I’m pleased to hear that, though it’s all due to Herder’s exceptional skill. I heard he oversaw the creation of these weapons down to the finest details.”

Kevin looked at the card attached to his gun with string. Written on it was a number 8.

“I see: so this is a measure to prevent the guns from getting lost. But if they are so important, I thought it would be safer to carve the numbers directly onto them.”

“You may be right; in which case, we may’ve caused everyone some inconvenience.”

Albert said that with a slightly apologetic tone, and Kevin waved it off.

“No, no — if anything, it reflects his passion, and I honestly respect that. Even though I work in a different field, I have a lot to learn from him as a professional.”

“Thank you very much. I’m sure Herder would be delighted to hear that,” Albert replied, with sincere joy.

However, in an instant, Kevin’s expression seemed to grow a little darker.

“Still, maybe I shouldn’t have brought Helena here after all. She absolutely insisted on coming, so I relented, but with the guns looking so real, that…… I wonder if it’ll remind her of that incident.”

Albert could sense what he was trying to say.

“For that, I sincerely apologise. This event must seem somewhat inappropriate after what she went through.”

Hearing Albert take his remark so seriously, Kevin tried to explain himself in a fluster.

“N-No, it’s alright, I did not mean it as criticism. Besides, Helena seemed to be especially enjoying herself too.”

“Nonetheless, please allow me to apologise, for it may be the case that she’s simply putting up a strong front.”

At that, Kevin cocked his head in confusion.

“……Then, why did you decide to hold this game?”

Albert’s reply sounded almost as if he was speaking to himself.

“——Because it’s part of our ‘plan’.”

“Huh?”

Unsure of the meaning behind that word, the question fell from his lips before he could stop himself. But Albert did not elaborate further.

The conversation had unwittingly ground to a halt. Just as Kevin was searching for a different topic to talk about, Albert’s sharp gaze landed on a nearby thicket.

“There’s someone there.”

“Huh? Really?”

Bewildered, Kevin looked in the same direction. Then they heard the sound of leaves rustling, and the undergrowth parted to reveal an elderly nobleman.

Seeing the person before them, Albert lowered his gun. A warm smile rose to his face.

“……So it was you, Lord Andy. I thought you were the enemy.” [1]

“Hello, Albert-kun. Just for fun, I thought I’d hide and see how long it took you both to spot me, but it seems you discovered me instantly. As expected of the young, your perceptiveness is incredibly sharp,” he laughed, ruffling his own short white hair. He was also on the same team as Albert and Kevin.

The elderly nobleman was Andy Krueger, whose estate extended across the surrounding lands; he also owned the hunting grounds on which the game was being held. Today’s game had been brought into reality after Albert proposed the idea to him.

For such an important gathering on the social calendar, one would normally be hesitant to transform it into an unorthodox event like this. But Andy had jumped at the offer, and even offered his opinions on the finer points of the game. Because of this generous and broad-minded nature of his, he also had the trust of the other nobles.

At the man’s arrival, for some reason, Kevin sighed in relief.

“Please don’t surprise me like that — unlike Lord Albert, I was frightened half to death.”

“Sorry about that, Kevin-kun. But aren’t you being too timid? Have a little more nerve!”

“I’ll do my best.”

At their friendly banter, Albert seemed curious.

“Are both of you already acquainted?”

“Yes,” Kevin affirmed. “We got to know each other when Helena’s father and I were gaining recognition in London. Ever since that time, the nobility had not looked fondly upon us, and only Lord Andy treated us as equals.”

Kevin looked gratefully at the nobleman as he said this, and Andy clapped his shoulder heartily.

“Those aristocrats are really quite averse to the changing times, it seems. But I have no interest in such dreadful traditions. Even at the gathering earlier, they were keeping their distance and saying such rude things that I had to tell them off. Although I hadn’t seen them in a while, because of that, I didn’t even get a chance to say hello— Ah, apologies.”

“No, it’s fine, Lord Andy. You don’t have to apologise,” Kevin said, waving both hands in the air. “Rather, after hearing that you went to such lengths for a good-for-nothing like me, I’m truly grateful.”

“What’s this? Timid as ever, I see,” Andy barked. “You’re an excellent businessman, so why not act like it?”

Then the elderly nobleman’s expression, which had been cheerful thus far, clouded over just a little.

“Nevertheless, I still feel sorry for your friend. At least, his daughter Helena seems to be doing well…… Have there been no clues even now?”

Kevin’s tone also grew heavy.

“……None at all. Helena believes he’s alive, but personally, I think he’s no longer……”

“He’d suddenly vanished, didn’t he?”

Out of the blue, Albert cut in. The two men were startled, but Albert continued with a somewhat knowing look.

“After the incident at the department store, I became curious, and tried doing some research into it myself. It seems there are various peculiarities about this case. For one, the store Helena’s father opened with Mr Kevin had been a success, but one day, he simply disappeared without warning. On the night he was thought to have disappeared, when he was having dinner at home, a friend testified that nothing had seemed particularly off about him.”

“Moreover, that was the last time I saw him. I never thought it would be the last conversation we’d have together……”

Kevin — the friend who’d testified — said so in a thin voice, the corners of his mouth twitching as if in self-mockery.

“Of course, at first, the police suspected that I had something to do with it. They even went to the trouble of thinking up a motive: that as a co-owner, I would stand to gain all the store’s profits if he were to disappear.”

Thinking back to that false accusation, Kevin’s shoulders drooped. Seeing that, Andy addressed him in a droll voice.

“Come now, you never know — one day he might just come home all of a sudden. I’ve told you before: there’s nothing we can do at present, and on top of that, worrying unnecessarily will only injure your health.”

“……You’re right. Besides, we’re supposed to be having fun right now: if I’m the only one being so grave, I’ll just be putting a damper on things.”

“Exactly, exactly. Well then, let’s get back to the game,” Andy urged, thumping him on the back.

Albert, who had been watching their exchange with a calm gaze, smiled gently.

“Indeed; let us focus on the competition first. By the way, it’s about time for us to get our blood pumping…… I’d like to advance deeper into enemy territory. What say you two?”

At his invitation, Kevin quickly shook his head.

“No no no! Frankly, since the start of the game, my heart’s felt like it’s about to explode! Anything more than this and it’ll stop altogether!”

But the elderly nobleman threw his head back in hearty laughter.

“You young people have so much energy, it’s making me jealous. Kevin-kun, you’ve got to watch and learn as well.”

“No…… When I think about what lies ahead, somehow my legs can’t stop shaking,” Kevin murmured weakly. His legs were indeed trembling pitifully, so much so it wouldn’t be surprising for them to give out any moment now.

Andy sighed, as if astonished.

“It can’t be helped then. Sorry, Albert-kun — it seems he can’t go on. I’d like to say that I’ll go with you in his stead, but…… for some reason, my legs have been hurting for a while now. Despite my high spirits, my years have bested me today,” he laughed wryly, his expression weak.

Albert nodded firmly.

“I understand. Well then, let’s part ways here. I wish you both the best of luck.”

“T-Take care……”

Watching Albert’s brave figure as he walked gallantly into the depths of the forest, Kevin felt ashamed at his own cowardice once again.

Scoreboard

🔹 Blue team: Albert, Jack, Fred, William, Kevin, Andy

🔺 Red team: Moran, Bond, Louis, Helena

Footnotes:

[1] Andy’s title is not formally given in the story, but judging from the amount of land he owns, I think it’s safe to say that he’s a member of the peerage like Albert, and hence should be addressed as “Lord Andy”. (Wikipedia)

[eatyourchancletas]

SUMMARY |  y/n l/n; the trauma surgeon who was in the wrong place at the wrong time and is taken hostage by the terrifying mafia known as ateez. despite their situations, love arises between the doctor and san; but when an enemy comes in between the group, breaking trust and belief between the members, what will san choose to save; his newfound love or his brothers?

PAIRING | choi san x male reader

INFO/CATEGORY | mafia au, angst

WARNINGS | violence, weapon usage/mention, adult language

[chapter index] [playlist] [previous chapter]

AUTHOR’S NOTE | chapter 2 is finally up! it was written by monnie, a sweetheart 😙 edited by alex! we hope you enjoy! please leave feedback, we really encourage it and enjoy it!

WORD COUNT | 1.7k

TAG LIST :; @jonghoshoe​ if you’d like to be added to the list, please say so in out inbox/ask box!

at this point y/n wondered why he followed his instincts. had he known it was a mafia on the other side of where he was, he could have gotten in his car, gone home to enjoy a cup of ramen, and then go to sleep. then again he didn’t know, so he blamed life’s cruelty.

“hey, good morning.” a soft voice brought him out of his thoughts. he glanced over at the familiar voice that belonged to the only person he’s seen in the past few days.

y/n said nothing, watching the other slide in a tray of steamy fresh food. “i noticed you eat a few things more than the others so i tried to give you bigger portions.”

“thanks,” y/n accepted the tray with no expression and seonghwa pursed his lips at the short answer. 

at the tense atmosphere, seonghwa excused himself. he wasn't sure if he felt pity for y/n, but either way, he just wanted y/n to grow used to this new environment because one thing was certain and that was that y/n could never go back to his old life.

seonghwa sighed softly, "good morning."

y/n tilted his head at him, looking up at the second in command with dull eyes. he simply hummed in greeting, clearly not in the mood during the past five days. 

the blonde gripped the tray, his patience running low with the older’s behavior. he's meaning well, he understands y/n, he does, but no one will get anywhere if there’s constant passiveness between the two.

 “i threw in an extra cookie,” he gestured to the pastry, “i figured you’d like some extra sugar in your system.”

once more, y/n hummed, nodding his head lightly.  it made seonghwa's blood boil—clearly, y/n wasn't vibing with him, and the last thing he thought of in this situation was the way y/n was being affected.

"hey, listen. your little silent treatment isn't gonna do jack here. you either socialize or stay down here, which isn't gonna happen because sooner or later they'll drag you up there. keep in mind you won't have anyone else to socialize with—forget your friends, family, everyone you had around before this. you'll be around us for as long as needed, maybe until your last breath."

y/n scoffed, looking away from seonghwa, something the older didn't take very nicely until he heard y/n’s meek reply, "you say that like it's easy."

the younger sputtered, handing y/n the tray of food, "i know it's hard, but just know each of us gave something up too. but, eventually, we all learned how to live with it,” seonghwa squatted to y/n’s level, “and you will too." 

the doctor swallowed, taking the tray and finally making eye contact with seonghwa. they shared a small pained smile, and seonghwa made one last comment before heading back, "make sure you eat up—don't want you dying on me after i took all that time to make such delicacies." 

y/n smiled to himself as he heard seonghwa shuffle to turn around. "thank you…i'll see you later…"

"sure will…” seonghwa’s chuckle ricocheted off the walls as he walked down the hall to the metal door. he pushed it open, making his way up the stairs and to the living room where a few of the others were gathered.

“hyung! just on time, we were talking about this upcoming mission we might have in a few days,” san commented as soon as he saw the older.

“is that so?” seonghwa mumbled in response as he sat down next to hongjoong, the other sipping iced bourbon from a glass cup.

“i’m not sure about it yet,” hongjoong set the glass down on the coffee table in front of him, “wooyoung still needs to gather more info before i verify anything. can’t be careless, remember?”

“totally, hyung. i’ll dig more into the client and have the info needed before morning.” wooyoung gave a reassuring smile to their boss, who simply hummed in return.

“by the way hwa,” hongjoong glanced at his boyfriend, leaning back into the leather couch and crossing his legs, “how’s the doctor?”

seonghwa blinked, “he’s fine, a bit down but he’ll get over it. so, in short, he’s behaved well these past days.”

hongjoong nodded, “that’s good, we’ll let him out tomorrow then. but right now i need you to go with san to the mechanic shop, make sure business is flowing well—which i don’t doubt. maybe visit mingi and yunho and see how well the loaning business has been. if i recall correctly, mingi said something about a few people not paying back on time; tell them not to get aggressive, we aren’t monsters after all.” there was a playful lilt to his tone, but they picked up on the seriousness behind it.

san got up, nodding at hongjoong’s orders, “we’ll tell yeo if anything happens.”

seonghwa followed suit, “we’ll see you later then,” he waved farewell without looking back at them.

wooyoung slid the folder over to hongjoong, the older raising a brow while taking it in his hands. “i gathered some info, it’s all in there—but to put it simply, i think we’ll gain lots of benefits after signing a deal with him. his name is yoo dongwoo, lives in seongnam.”

“that’s a bit too close to us, don’t you think?” hongjoong hums as he sets the folder down, resting his elbow on the armrest and his chin on the palm of his hand. 

“yeah, it is. but i think it’d be worth it. he seems to have lots of connections, and so far he’s never had an issue with payments, transportation and business—” wooyoung’s attention is taken when the door leading to the basement is pushed open.

“people!” yunho blocks y/n, capturing the attention of the others in the room. the tallest holds his arms out in a way of grand gesture, bowing, “i present you, y/n-”

“that’s...not necessary…” y/n can feel his skin grow warm under the tense and awkward atmosphere. luckily it’s broken by the one and only choi san.

“well we haven’t properly introduced ourselves if you think about it,” he pushed himself into y/n’s space, the doctor tensing up a bit at the close intrusion. yunho watched san, stepping aside to give the two some more space,“i’m san! nice to meet you! i’m sure we’ll get along just fine.”

the cheerful boy grinned widely, dimples making an appearance while his eyes did the opposite. y/n blinked, processing how close san was before taking a small step back. he didn’t reply verbally, giving a small smile and a nod instead,

“you know me already,” yunho said while taking a seat at the table.

"you know me too," seonghwa walked in with a tray of cookies, baking gloves protecting his hands.  "and take a seat."

y/n glanced at the table, not sure where to take a seat, but he guessed it didn't matter as long as he didn't sit near the boss.

"i'm hongjoong, the boss in case you didn't know," hongjoong watched the tray seonghwa placed on the table, waiting to grab a pastry.

"i'm mingi!" said male smiled as y/n hastily took the seat next to him. 

"i'm wooyoung, but call me woo if you want!" wooyoung was on the other side of y/n, making the doctor sandwiched between him and mingi.

"yeosang," the said male sat across from y/n, an intensely bored expression taking over his features. 

"did we miss anyone?" seonghwa rose a brow while taking off the gloves. 

"oh right, jongho! he's our bodyguard," san gestured at the buff male that stood by the door. 

y/n turned to look at him, jongho gently nodding his head at him and y/n doing the same. 

hongjoong clapped his hands, capturing everyone's attention. "great, now with that out of the way, let's get down to business."

everyone nodded at his words, taking a cookie from the tray seonghwa placed on the table. y/n accepted the one san handed to him, smiling a bit at how caring the male had shown to be so far. 

"we're heading out in the morning, i need everyone to get back to their usual jobs by evening so we'll try to make the exchange as quick as possible. everyone except y/n and yeosang will go, we need info and updates from the outside. 

before we leave i need yunho and mingi to make sure all the parts we'll hand over are correct. i don't want mistakes. wooyoung and i will take care of the talking, san and seonghwa will stand by the nearest exit to make sure everything is in order. jongho you'll be with me and woo." 

all nine of them nodded at hongjoong's orders. y/n voluntarily nodded, remembering seonghwa’s earlier words, “each of us gave something up too. but, eventually, we all learned how to live with it.” he knew he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, so he figured he’d make it a bit easier for himself.

"and i need you all to wear bulletproof vests under your clothes just in case. your guns must be locked and loaded, got it?" 

"guns?" y/n blinked, capturing everyone's attention, "why are you guys willing to blow your organs out?" 

wooyoung smiled, his head tilting a bit, "why are you willing to work for people who’s organs have been blown out?” 

y/n opened his mouth before closing it and nodding in defeat, "fair point. i get paid for it, at least..."

they were all quiet before chuckling, the atmosphere feeling more warm and calm than what it was when they first gathered.

"has anyone seen y/n?" 

his peers shook their head, speaking of the last time they saw said male. the doctor he worked with mentioned something that made the nurse worry even more. 

"last thing i knew was that his car was towed since he never picked it up. didn't hear anything else though, but don't worry heeseung, maybe he picked it up afterwards." 

heeseung, the nurse that had asked about y/n's whereabouts, sighed. "right...i hope so...see you guys tomorrow!" 

his peers returned the smile and farewell. 

as heeseung took a seat on the bus, he pulled out his phone. the first thing he did was go to the messaging app and open his and y/n's chat. 

'hi :] 

how are you?

[qvid-pro-qvo]

Hi, can you use #37 from 100 ways to say I love you, and use #2,3,35, and 56 from 75 random dialogue prompts with Hotch? If you can't do all of them, that's okay. Thank you! :)

aaron hotchner x gender neutral reader. 

word count: 1386

rating: mature, for conversations with raised voices and realizations of what it could be like to live without someone (canon-typical mentions of violence, guns, and thankfulness for bulletproof vests. hurt/very little comfort). 

-

Your hands are shaking, and you push through the haze of your mind to reach for your phone. You press ‘one’ on speed dial, and it rings. Once. Twice. Your hands are still shaking, so you put the phone on speaker and start pacing in your room.

“Hotchner.”

You can’t help your jump when he answers. Maybe he hears the hitch in your throat, but he doesn’t press. Doesn’t say anything else until you catch your breath.

“When’s our flight?” That’s what you finally ask him, after minutes on end with nothing more than your breath filling the space.

“Our flight?”

“Our flight home. Back to Virginia.”

You can’t hear his breathing, but you have a feeling he’s rubbing his forehead with his fingers. Maybe even heaving a deep sigh. You’re not stupid, you know what this looks like. You know what it sounds like. It sounds like a nightmare come to life.

But that was yesterday. This is today. This is the morning. More accurately, 4:30 AM.

“Hotch.”

“10:30.”

“Make it earlier.”

He sighs, and this time you can hear it. But you push on. “Make it earlier. You need to see a doctor, and we need to get home.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

Your frustration bleeds through your teeth. “Hotch –“

“I can’t –“

“Aaron, I swear to fucking God I’ll drive you there myself. I’m getting in a fucking car and I’m driving there, and there’s nothing you’ll be able to say about it because you’ll be tied up and in the damn backseat.”

That gets him. Gets him moving, you can tell by the rustle over the phone. To his credit, he doesn’t hang up. When you hear the knock on the door, and open it, you hear him behind you and in front of you.

No wonder he answered. Hell, he’s still in his fucking suit, the one he changed into after… everything. His tie is loose around his neck, and you glare at it like you glare at him.

“I’m not going to the doctor.”

“Says you.” You’re pissed, when you look at him, suddenly, because all you see are the bullets caught in his vest. He’s an idiot, he’s irredeemably stupid, in that moment, and you want to slap him. “We need to head home. Fly home before you get yourself almost killed. Again.”

He doesn’t say anything, but you let him push into your room. When the door closes behind him, he takes his jacket off, tosses it on the bed you’re using in the hotel.

“You want to talk about this?” he grounds out. “You really want to talk about this?”

“Yes. I do. Because something tells me that when you pull stupid shit like that, out there, you’re giving all the rest of us a middle finger, Aaron. You ever think about that?”

His sleeves are being rolled up, and you know he’s containing every bit of anger he has. “Well?”

“I don’t… dammit, I don’t risk my life without thinking about the consequences first,” he bites. It’s taking everything he has to keep his sentences short, to the point. You know it. He knows it. But you’re past that.

“Bullshit. There are moments you scare the hell outta me, and all I get to do is sit back and watch.” You step closer, poke a finger at his chest. “You got shot today, Aaron! You got shot at! And all you had to say after was ‘good work, team’?” You throw your hands up in the air, turn around to balance yourself against the wall.

He watches you turn, takes a step towards you. “I made a calculated decision. I did what the team needed me to do. I was acting as the Unit Chief and if you can’t handle that –“

“If I can’t handle that?! God, who the hell do you think I am? I’m not a first-year agent struggling to make it. I’m just – can’t I be worried about you without getting brushed off?”

There’s silence. It’s heavy. Thick. After a moment, you move to sit on the bed, next to his jacket, and he sits next to you, pushing the blazer up towards the pillows. He sits next to you, hands on his knees, and the two of you don’t look at each other, not for a long while.

“I’m sorry, but. I can’t guarantee that I won’t act without my own best interest in mine. Not if it means… not if it means making sure that the rest of that team is okay.” When he looks up, you can feel his gaze on your temple. “Not if it means that you’ll be okay. And… I understand, that if you need time away, or… can’t be on the team…”

You can’t help your chuckle. Hysterical, at that. “And what am I supposed to do if I lose you? Huh? The only person I’ve ever cared about like this? I don’t need your preservation, Aaron, let’s get that straight.”

Leave? Leave the team. Even now, even with how furious you are at him, it doesn’t even cross your mind. You’re with him. For now and forever. You take a couple of deep breaths. You haven’t said it out loud, yet, but it comes close to leaving your mouth before you take a deep breath again.

“Leave the damn team. God. Where is that coming from? I can’t – fuck, I can’t willingly or unwillingly bear to leave your side, Aaron, don’t you know that? And every time you throw caution to the wind, for a case, for a family, it hurts, but. You know I’m not leaving.”

He doesn’t speak. Just stares at you. You suppose you have tears in your eyes, but you’re not thinking about them, just letting them fall. “No, Aaron. I’m not leaving. You’ve got too much of a grip for that.”

It’s his turn to laugh. Raspy. Raw. “And you think it’s not the same for me? I couldn’t live without you.”

Your head shoots up, and you find your eyes meeting his endless ones. Unmatched depth, in those brown eyes, and something unreadable within. Something that’s slowly becoming clear, the longer you’re around him, the more you realize how much you –

Not now. Not now. Not when you’re still so mad, but even that is leaking from you as the night wears on, turns into early morning.

You’re mad. You are. But there’s so much more that you feel, and looking at him brings all of it to the forefront.

“God, can I kiss you?” you ask him. It’s out of nowhere and at the same time you know it’s what you have to say. Nothing else matters, and he sighs, offering you a little smile to pull the rest of the tension out of the room. It leaves nothing but exhaustion. He reaches out, hand moving to cup your cheek, then your neck. His hand’s so warm it feels like it’s scalding.

“Tomorrow.”

You raise a brow. It feels like something loosens in your chest. When he looks at you, touches you. “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow, when we land. We’re going to go home, go to bed. We’re… going to sleep. And when you wake up, you’ll call me.” His eyes don’t leave yours, and you find yourself leaning closer, even as he talks. It’s just to be close to him. To enjoy the feeling of what it means to be the only person in his world. Hell, he’s said as much. “You’ll call me, and I’ll be there. And I’ll kiss you, then.”

You laugh. Out loud. It’s the first time you’ve laughed in what feels like forever, after being on edge, after watching those shots hit him. “You seem sure.”

“I’m a profiler.”

“So am I.”

“Aren’t you sure? After everything?”

Yeah. You are. He pulls you close, grips you tight, and hugs you. You can’t think, and you don’t before wrapping your arms around him, before burying your face into his shoulder, his neck.

“Please… please don’t scare me like that ever again,” you whisper to him. “Don’t do that, don’t risk your life like it’s nothing.”

He stiffens, but you keep holding him, and if anything, tighten your grip. “It’s not nothing, Aaron. Please. You’re everything.”

He nods. It’s gentle, but you feel it. “Okay. For you.”

[hitsuackerman]

Unpredictable (Overhaul x Reader) pt.21

a/n: things will get better~ <3

warnings: this cannot be read solo

Links: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13, part 14, part 15, part 16, part 17, part 18, part 19, part 20, part 22

Masterlist to my other fics: here :)

Overhaul’s waiting list: @jjk-biased @infinite-universe-love @dirtypride @blackymomo03 @azzie @purple-rabanito​ @meximorrita @awesomeee19​​ @celestial-kanzakii​ @laure-lo​ @team-wang-puppy​ @aydience-world​ @choros-main-hoe​ @colorseeingchick​  @but-kairis-not-that-smart (i cant seem to tag again :( hope this lands in your timelines!)

The silence of the hall was cut by the vibration of your phone. Taking it out, you answered.

“Yes, Nao?”

“The cameras showed the Fukuo Kai members left the building. Save for two people. Overhaul not included.” Inside the tent, Tsukauchi focused on the monitors. Observing and watching as live and recorded footage were being played to make sure the remaining two were to be caught. “I’m assuming you're on the 4th floor. Be careful. Cameras aren’t picking up feed.”

“I know. You said there were two?” Staring at the fresh blood dripping onto the floor, you took a step back when the thick red liquid began to run down the wall. Recalling that sound earlier, the other person was surely on this floor. Somewhere.

“That’s right. It’s your call from here.”

“Any info on their quirks?”

“We’re still digging it up. Apparently, those two men weren’t part of the meeting. If my deductions are right, they were the ones who terrorized our plan.”

Feeling a bit lightheaded, you inhaled and let out a long exhale. The man wasn’t lying entirely when he said it had nothing to do with the Fukuo Kai. Now that you were sure he was not on the same floor, you cursed under your breath.

“Nao. There’s only one person left. Overhaul used his quirk on one of them.” Heading back towards the fire exit, you wiped off the beads of sweat forming on your forehead. Feeling chills run down your spine, the grip on your phone tightened as your hands began to feel tingly. “My adrenaline is going down. We’ll catch the other one… next time.”

“Bring yourself back to safety. We’ll debrief once you're here.”

“See you in a few.”

Ending the call, you shook your head and made your way back to the fire exit. With each step you took, your eyelids seemed to become heavier. Leaning on the wall for support, you saw how your vision was starting to blur. Shutting your eyes close, you reached out for your phone only to stumble to the ground. With a steady growing headache, you activated your quirk.

Giving yourself a self-administered adrenaline pump, your felt control over your body once more. Standing up with effort, your shoulder remained glued to the wall as you took slow and steady steps towards the exit. Taking your phone out, you dialed for Tsukauchi only to flinch as another gunshot echoed through the room. The way your phone just sprung out of your hand and landed with a crack made a small yelp escape your mouth.

Taking your handgun out as you turned around, you were face to face with a man in a suit. Realizing that your phone was long gone by now, reaching base through your earpiece would not be the best option.Squinting your eyes, your blurry vision was not helping one bit. Hopefully, the sudden end to your call would alert your partner.

“Who are you?” Buying time was all you could do for now.

“No one important.” He took a step forward. His face void of any emotion save for the complete focus he has. “The question is, what are cops like you doing? Teaming up with the yakuza? Have you all stooped that low?”

“Says the man who’s ready to pull the trigger. Is it Overhaul you're looking for?” Each second that passed, your headache was evolving into a migraine. Breathing alone was becoming strenuous.

“On the contrary, yes.” He takes another step forward. “He’s been rather difficult to deal with these days.”

“You… You’re not from the F-fukuo Kai.” This was not good, you thought to yourself.

“Don’t strain yourself, love.” Seeing how your eyes widened and body trembled. He let a smirk cross his mouth. With much confidence he closed the gap between your bodies. With one hand, he unzipped your bulletproof vest. “You might be wondering why you can’t move?”

“No shit.” Watching him create invisible circles over your stomach made your heart beat even more rapidly. Thinking that his quirk had something to do with how your body’s motor skills were useless, you hoped that back up was now on it’s way. “This is your quirk, isn’t it?”

“Right you are. I can control a certain portion of a person’s gravity. It also works with force as well. But it’s much more fun.” Slapping your face, you barely felt a thing till you saw how his irises changed colors. The amount of force you received hurt double than it should have. Before your hands could touch him, his irises shifted color once more. “Not fast enough. But that was fun.”

“Why are you after Overhaul? Isn’t that suicide?”

“That man refuses to partner with us. We were more than willing to sponsor but for some shitty reason he turned us down.” He rolled his eyes and took a step back. “Wanna see something fun?”

You flinched at the sound of his gun. Yet the bullet lay suspended in mid air. Knowing where this was going, you tried to gather each ounce of your strength to break through the man’s quirk. With your body trembling from the failed attempt, you cursed under your breath and focused on your own quirk. If his quirk centered on gravity, then maybe yours could regulate your blood flow to show any kind of result.

“Struggling won’t get you anywhere.” He blinked and his irises changed colors.

Regaining control of your body did not save you. Feeling an intense heat pooling on your lower obliques, the burning sensation was enough to let you fall to the ground. Immediately covering the wound, you focused your quirk on that area to stop the bleeding. The pain made you curl into a small ball, your body trembling as your mind remained focused on the bullet’s entry way.

“Guess backup isn’t coming~” Taking his time, he grinned at the sight of slowly forming a puddle of red liquid. “Sucks to be helpless? Hoho~ I see your quirk is preventing blood loss.”

Bending down to squat, he grabbed your hand and flipped you over. Trying to release yourself from his grip, he placed a foot on your right hand and kept a hold of your left. Placing his free hand on your wound, he let out a chuckle. The pain had subsided but you were too aware of what would happen next.

“And here I thought police officers were a force to be reck-”

Before he could finish his sentence, you watched as he went flying all the way to the other end of the room. Simultaneously, the blood he had stopped came oozing out like a small water fountain. Seconds after, you harshly bit on your lip as the pain came back two fold. Putting pressure on the badly bleeding wound, you activated your quirk.

“This.” Despite the ringing in your ears, you knew who owned that voice. “This is why we refused to work with your lot, Ayato. Always causing unnecessary burdens.”

“Well if it isn’t the man I wanted to see.” Ayato stood up, barely keeping his balance. The way he landed was rather painful on his side. “Thought you left already, Overhaul?”

“I did.” He scratched his forehead. Glancing at your bleeding body did not help the situation.

Taking slow steps forward, Ayato focused his sight on the mask wearing man. Blinking a couple of times he felt his blood start to boil. Patting his body, he felt the small bullet on his side. The same red bullet he was supposed to be funding. Meeting Overhaul’s eyes once more, he felt a chill climbing up his spine and enveloping his mind.

“The bullets are nearing its completion..” Overhaul said as he removed his other glove. Moving forward, Ayato couldn’t help but take a step back. The growing anger in Overhaul’s eyes was enough to shrink whatever confidence he had in him. “What’s wrong, Ayato? Not so brave without your quirk?” Patting around his body for his gun, he let out a silent curse when he saw it resting beside Overhaul’s foot. Reaching for a small knife, he assumed a battle stance only to be met with a faint chuckle and a shake of the head. Gritting his teeth, Ayato began to sprint towards the supposed villain. Only to fall to the ground with a thud as a surge of electricity coursed through his body.

“Sorry.” Tsukauchi’s body appeared from behind the fallen man. “Got held up at the entrance.”

“Useless.” Overhaul commented as he watched the unconscious body. Turning around, he went closer to your body. Observing how shallow your breathing was, he caught himself clenching his fists. Caught up in the fight, he had forgotten the main reason why he rushed back to the building.

Before he could do anything, a hand touched his shoulder and shoved him. Stumbling three steps to the side, the same officer who was not fond of him was now administering first aid. Seeing him lift your badly bleeding body made him feel uneasy.

“This is your fault.” The officer's eyes focused on the standing man. “If you weren’t involved in this mess, (l/n) wouldn’t have been injured this bad.”

“For your information, she was already injured when I arrived.” It took a lot of strength not to harm the person in front of him. “Tell me, officer, do you think it would have been a smart move to just barge in?”

“You and your quirk are more than capable of doing something on the spot.” He stood up. A few drops of your blood dripping down his fingertips. “Lend a helping hand? An officer gets injured, and one of the terrorist is gone because of your hot head. That’s why I despise working with your lot. Nothing but  bad news.”

“Captain Iwase.” Tsukauchi butted in. He had just finished cuffing Ayato and handed him over to another officer. “Enough. Let me tend to (y/n) injuries. Your babbling mouth is causing her to bleed out.”

“Look at her.” His index finger pointing at your heavily breathing form. “Do you really think first aid is gonna help? For a bullet wound, that amount is abnormal. If anything, a blood transfusion is what she needs now but I doubt the ambulance would get here in time.”

“Then why don’t you stop complaining and dial 119?”

“Tsukauchi. Are you serious?”

“You may be higher in terms of ranking, but she’s my partner and she will always come first.” Reaching for his personal phone, Tsukauchi tossed it to Iwase. “Now unless you want to keep Overhaul’s hand away from your neck, I suggest you dial emergency hotlines. Now.”

Defeated, Iwase marched off the floor. Making sure to bump shoulders with the tall detective.

“He means well.” Tsukauchi still vouched for the captain as he checked your weak pulse. Carefully lifting your body, he made you lean on the wall. Iwase, despite the rambling, was right. He wasn’t sure what happened but the puddle of thick red liquid was alarming. “What happened?”

“The man you just electrocuted used his quirk on (l/n). He can control gravity to a certain degree. By the time I arrived, your partner was already bleeding and glued to the ground. His hand was covering the entry way so I assume her blood came gushing out like an oil pipe when I attacked him.”

As he relayed the information, Tsukauchi was already wrapping a bandage around your waist. For a moment, his eyes met your dull ones. Looking back at the red patch, he swallowed a bit of his saliva.

“Move over, Tsukauchi.” Overhaul looked down on both your crouching bodies. His eye twitching at the sight of your blood stained bandage. Not wanting to go on his bad side, Tsukauchi stood up and excused himself. Despite Overhaul being the labelled sociopath, he had gained enough respect for him to be trusted. “Can you talk?”

“I’m in a lot… of pain… but I’m fine, Overhaul.” You reassured him. Voice breathy and shaky. “It’s not that bad and I’m already doing my part by regulat-”

“Shut up.” He cut you off and forced your hand away from the wound. Taking a look at his hand, he let out a muffled curse. He was breaking out but the priority of fixing your wound won. Seeing Ayato’s knife, he reached for it and sliced the bandage. The bleeding was still bad and he knew full well that your quirk was no longer doing its function. “As much as I hate to admit it, that asshole officer was right. You need blood transfusion. I can close the wound but i’ll have to overhaul the bullet.”

“I think dying would hurt less.” You managed to chuckle.

“Just shut your mouth and let me overhaul the damn bullet.” Without a warning, his index finger entered the small hole. His eyes darted back to your screaming voice. He had to do this quickly to make sure any more blood loss would stop. Sighing, he leaned in closer. Just enough for you to lay your head on the crook of his neck. Your badly trembling body was not helping the situation.

Luckily, it barely took another push for his fingertip to reach the cold shell. Overhauling it in barely a second, this time he warned you about his exit. Receiving a nod, he felt your shoulders tense. Once his bloody finger was out, his clean hand held on to your wound before closing it completely.

“You’re in for an amount of pain.” At least the wound was closed now. The small whimper that escaped your mouth was the telltale sign that you were near exhaustion. Yet somehow, you managed to grip on to his jacket. “Your wound may be healed bu-”

“I-I’m sorry.”

“Be specific.”

“For m-mentioning Ackerm...Ackerman.” With your last ounce of strength, you wrapped your shaky arms around his neck. To which he did not refuse. “You’re b-breaking out.”

“I know. Guess you really aren’t as pure as I thought you were.” He stared at his hives and back at you. Slowly sliding in and out of consciousness. “Such a shame. Then again, each and every person is tainted in their own way.”

“I… I’m sorry about… last time.”

“You should be.” Wrapping his arm under the crook of your knees, he lifted you up. He adjusted his hold to make sure you were comfortable. By now, you had lost consciousness. Failing to hear what he had left to say. “Don’t ever mention Ackerman again. You’re mine and mine alone my guilty pleasure.”

- - - - -

a/n: and the fluff begins :D hope the tension was alright in this scene... took a while to write this tbh xD see yall next week <3 yes Overhaul is still accepting in his waiting list too :)

[guigz1-coldwar]

'Moment of peace' : New chapter for "Redemption in a Spirit in a Cold War" is out !

"Moment of peace"

"We have an night for us and now, I only want you....only you !"

Chapter Summary : Yirina & Park has no choices but been forced by Hudson himself to get to the Mount Yamantau to discover what Perseus is planning there.....

To read it on AO3, click here !

Words : +3200

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Yamantau...It was sounding familiar to me, not because I remember that Mason & Woods had to go to that mountain to retrieve an important object for our hunt against Perseus and not because of Hudson old mission 16 years ago but I kinda feel that this place...I did maybe visited it in my old life. I did have an memory of me, been in the Ural Mountains with Freya in that old cabin but I couldn't know if that 'supposed Perseus base' I remembered in that memory was the old one Hudson & Woods mentioned. That must be the case as now, Perseus has his sight on an soviet base in the mountain.

However, it happened that Hudson decided to only send me & Park at that place without any supports from the others. All protested about that decision but Hudson been Hudson, he refused everything pretexting that the 'others need to stay in Verdansk' to watch any possible locations about where Adler could be. That's meaning that me & Park are going to be send right at the Yamantau without any radio support & not even an single help from some agents....just the two of us, our guns, our knifes and our fists.

Hudson did make some calls after that, calling some friends in Moscow to help for transporting us in hidden sight and everything was planned to be operational in the evening of the 1st of June, tomorrow. I've spent an long night, fighting inside my head to know something more about the mountain but nothing came...nothing. The day...it went pretty fast, I didn't even see the time pass so fast while trying to intercept any communications from Perseus. When the evening came, it was time for us to go, taking an civilian car to drive to the Verdansk Airport where Hudson's contact is awaiting for us.

"I can't believe we're actually doing this." I expressed in the car as Park was driving and me on the front passenger seat, we were on the main road near the coastline at almost 2 km from Verdansk limits. "Guess that is too late to return to the warehouse ?" I demanded rhetorically.

"Yes, unfortunately." She decided to reply nonetheless to my question, sounding a bit funny un her voice. "The thing is that we just have only our outfits, our guns and our knifes...that's it." She exclaimed as we were already dressed in an part in our military outfits, our guns just on the backseats.

"Not even an radio." I whispered, looking at my outfit : an light-browned jacket, green half-fingerless gloves, an green sweat and an blue bulletproof vest with an UK flag ensign on it....one of Park's outfits...

"I don't understand why it's just us." She said, tapping her steering wheel with her two index finger, focused on the road.

"Like Woods said...." I started in an low voice.

"Hudson been Hudson...." We both scoffed in unison, wanting to break an laugh about it.

"Do you think that it because he think that it's maybe something not very important ?" I questioned her, looking at the sun getting set in the horizon.

"I don't know to be honest." She responded, not even putting her eyes away from the road. "If Freya and Knight are summoned to get there, I think it could be important." She claimed, knowing in me that she's right.

"We will have to watch out with Freya." I warned her even if she was already knowing it as she nodded to me. "Damnit, if we can collect that data before they can come, it will be better." I stated.

"Let's hope so." She grinned an little, removing her eyes from the road for only an second before putting them back in place.

"Necessary data..." I whispered, thinking of that transmission I intercepted last day. "It could be anything."

"Yes, it could be anything." She repeated my words, having the same thoughts. "Maybe Stitch is now trying to really make Nova-6 for real or...he's trying to find something important for him." She added. "As you heard, Dragovich, the guy behind the Nova-6 threat in 1968, was hiding important things in that place."

"Maybe that some of his documents could have been transferred to the soviet base." I suggested, trying to think of the multiples possibilities but everything was confusing. "Shit, we should wait until we found what was this mission all about when we are arrived in that base."

"Sure, thinking of it is going to make my mind blow up." Park proclaimed, making an little laugh from it. "We should better think about everything before." She proposed.

"That's better." I snorted, still looking outside at the horizon, seeing the sun disappearing in the darkness. "Park."

"Yes ?" She breathed.

"The day you received this letter from me...after what happened to your brother...." I started, changing the subject and sounding very silent. "What was your first thoughts ?" I asked her, looking back at her.

"Uhm..." She was looking an bit disturbed to hear me ask that question, an subject that we didn't talk for days.

"Be honest." I whispered, not sounding like an actual order.

"Well and to be honest with you, I wanted to...meet you." She answered first as we were arriving in the city limits and driving to the airport, her hands was like trembling from my question. "I wanted to know things...an lot of things."

"Listen, if you don't want to tell me, it's okay." I proposed, wanting to destress her, seeing her like that wasn't making me well at all.

"No, I think that you should know." She shook her head with an very small grin. "You opened yourself to me about your life and I should do the same." She continued and she was right : during 2 months, I did help her to know more about who was 'Bell' and even if she did help me to know more about her, there were still some things to discover. "Like I said, when I received this letter, I wanted to meet you." She reaffirmed.

"And what you would have done if you actually did ?" I questioned her.

"Just an talk, nothing else." She admitted, turning in an parking in hidden sight and discovering that we were arrived near the airport. "Things would have maybe been different, you know." She added, stopping the car in an parking space.

"Yeah." I breathed. "Maybe I would have defect earlier, maybe I was maybe going to join the MI6 earlier." I exclaimed as I took an deep breath to look around outside. "But it's too late for thinking about that, I already did." I scoffed in an silent way.

"You did." I heard Park's voice, speaking away from me, sounding pleasant before looking back at me. "Well, I think we can go now." She proposed, stopping the car engine before getting out of the car.

Since the car was in an parking who was in complete darkness and not civilians around to disturb us, we could unload the equipment we were going to use even if we didn't take many things : an grenade for both of us, 3 to 4 mags in our respectives MP5, 2-3 to our pistols, water and two MREs rations and that was it, nothing else. Our large part is still back at the safehouse as our mission could have been more difficult if we took everything with us.

Once we grabbed everything from the car, we quickly moved to get at the rendezvous point with Hudson's contact in the airport near it's helipad. Hudson told us that our transport was an soviet helicopter, an Mi-24 Hind and since it's an military helicopter in an civilian airport, it wasn't going to be hard to find between all of those commercials airplanes but the thing that was disturbing me an litte was the fact that the airport was looking deserted.

There were no planes taking off or landing on the multiples runways of the airport, no crew to load the place...this place was really deserted, something that we're not aware was happening but there were nothing of that type in the few transmissions we decrypted this day. Nonetheless, it did help us to sneak below the few planes parked in the airport to walk until we got our eyes in the helipad.

"Here's our contact." I pointed to Park with my left hand, the only Mi-24 Hind that was standing at the airport helipad with an man dressed in an soviet uniform near it.

"Let's present ourselves, then." Park said as we started to move towards the Hind as in me, I was wondering how Hudson managed to have an contact in the Red Army.

"You're my passengers ?" The man asked, his head looking down as he was smoking an cigarette...and also wearing an cap, looking american.

"Yes, we're...." Park stopped herself when the man put his head up to look at us. "Belikov ?" She breathed, astonished to see him there...and me too.

"Miss Park ?" He was also like us....shocked to see her as the two shook hands until his eyes was on me. "Miss Bell?"

"I'm not Bell anymore." I told him in an normal voice as he couldn't know about it before we shook hands together "It's been almost 2 months now that we didn't see each other." I added, my voice getting surprised.

"Exactly, I hope that everything is fine in your life." He grinned, wondering about it and I nodded to him.

"Yeah, I'm fine, Belikov." I expressed, smiling at him.

"I never thought that it would be you two, thinking instead that it would be Woods & Mason." He exclaimed, dropping his cigarette at his feets to crush it before passing his hand through his hair, removing his cap in the way.

"Hudson didn't tell you about us ?" Park demanded and he shook his head.

"He did say that 2 agents needed help to fly to the Yamantau but he didn't tell who." He replied, putting his hands on the Hind to hold himself on it. "Apparently, some Perseus agents are trying to steal some data."

"Yes and if we can, we are trying to steal it before they does." I explained, making him nod with an smile.

"Seems that's very important since I'm asked by him." He scoffed, releasing an laugh from his mouth, followed silently by me & Park.

"Belikov, why's the airport this quiet ?" Park questioned him, having thinking of it too.

"City officials." He instantly responded, looking at the big control tower far behind from us. "They closed the airport an week ago due to an 'foreign terrorist threat'." He continued, opening the transport bay door of the Hind. "Must have been Perseus pulling some strings to make Verdansk an quiet place."

"Also meaning that he's also hiding Adler in there." I suggested as Belikov raised his shoulders.

"Maybe or they're planning something else." He chuckled, keeping the door widely open. "Anyway, you should get yourselves ready, we're going to fly for almost an long time." He ordered, making us to move inside the troop transport bay. "Hope you don't have airsickness." He joked after we got ourselves in the Hind before he closed the door to install himself in the cockpit.

I took an deep breath as the Hind was starting to take off the helipad, only thinking positively about everything right now, the helicopter flying away to the Yamantau and like Belikov said, it was going to be an very long flight for us and during all of it, everyone including our pilot Belikov was mostly focused on themselves, in their own thoughts. From time to time, I was watching through the little porthole giving to the outside and seeing the view.

At almost one hour of flight after we left the Verdansk Airport, we could already feel inside of us that the climate was changing, going colder and that would mean that we were approaching from the Mount Yamantau. Hopefully, the clothes we were wearing was going to protect us from the cold...I will never thank Park enough for giving some of her clothes to me....

"Shit, I will have to land." Belikov told us, breaking the silence of having no one talk in almost an hour.

"Why that ?" I demanded to him from the transport bay.

"Got an radio message from the authorities on the ground, an snowstorm will soon occur." He replied, sounding normal in his voice. "They're asking for every planes and helicopters to not cross the region until it's done." He added to his response.

"You know where to land for sure ?" Park asked him.

"Yes, got an perfect landing zone right now." He responded, causing me to look outside, seeing the mountains around us and below us, an little place perfect for the Hind to land. "Landing now." He said as the Hind touched the ground, feeling it before the rotors stopped and we opened the doors.

"You were right, looks like an storm is coming." Park affirmed as she was looking away in an direction.

"I'm sorry but I will have to leave you here." Belikov expressed, sounding apologizing. "I can't let an military helicopter in the middle of nowhere in the Urals mountains and I don't want to make the soviets suspicious." He continued.

"Guess we have no choices then ?" I breathed, scratching the back of my head while holding my MP5 in my right hand

"They should be an place where you could hide in safety for the night." He suggested as he was going back inside his cockpit. "It would be too dangerous for you to wander in the middle of an snowstorm." He expressed, sounding very right in his words.

"Yeah, we ain't going to risk this." I muttered, discovering an little path going away in an direction "You have an map of the base by the way ?" I asked him and directly, he handed me an map showcasing where that hidden base was on the Yamantau.

"Should be now easy to find it now for you." He said before he got back inside his cockpit.

"We should be on the move now." Park suggested and I nodded as she start to move slowly to the path I was seeing seconds ago.

"Da svedania, comrades." Belikov scoffed, waving at us from his cockpit and we waved back before we start to walk away and him to take off the little landing zone and leaving us alone in the mountains.

We walked through this path during almost 30 minutes, avoiding every dangers and not wanting to get jumped by an animal or an surprising soviet soldier or an Perseus soldier but more I was walking with Park on that path...more I was starting to have an impression of dejà-vu in my head, like if I already took this path before....wait...I think I did have an memory about this...I couldn't remember right but I think that it's true...

"There, an cabin !" Park was leading the way until she pointed at an old cabin that was in front of us at a least 100 meters and...shit, that cabin was exactly the same one in that memory with Freya...."We should move quickly, the snow is falling more faster now." She stated as the wind was going more faster and louder and we start to walk faster to get to that cabin and then, we entered it.

"In time to be honest." I breathed as we crossed the door to get in and Park closed the door behind me....that cabin...in four year, it didn't change at all but it was more old and not used for an while. "Park...I've been here before." I revealed as she was moving to put her MP5 in an table.

"Really ?" She whispered, stopping her in her moves.

"Yeah." I started, moving to put my MP5 on the same table like here before moving next to the fireplace, Park still looking at me curiously. "It's here that....I told her that I wanted to defect." I then sit in front of the fireplace, looking at it with questioning eyes. "I was like this."

"Shit, I didn't know." She expressed, sounding apologizing.

"You couldn't know that." I turned my head around to look at her before looking back to the fireplace...discovering an metal piece among the ashes inside of it. "And even after all these times, it's still here." I exclaimed.

"What ?" Park moved to get next to me.

"The necklace I was wearing before." I responded, putting my hands in the ashes to grab the Perseus necklace in the fireplace, now looking in bad shape and not looking very nice....better like that. "Threw it in the fire in that memory." I added as Park got sit next to observe the necklace.

"I prefer when it's like that." She stated, having the same thought as me.

"Me too." I said before I put the necklace back into the fireplace, moving to get some wood from an basket near by and thanks to an lighter I brought with me, I used it to put some fire in here and give us some heat. "That's better, now." I chuckled, sitting back next to Park to obverse the fire and putting my arms on my kneecaps.

"Yiri ?" Park whispered.

"Yes ?" I turned my head slowly towards her before she moved her arm to get it behind my neck.

"Do you...like this little moment of peace ?" She demanded in an curious & low voice to me.

"Yes, I'm liking it." I answered clearly in my voice, smiling at her.

"Nobody to stop us, to disturb us." She admitted and it was true that those rare moment to be alone was so much better like if we hoped to be only the two of us in this world. "I was wondering : do you not fear about your diary getting read back in Verdansk...knowing Wolf."

"I gave it to Woods for the moment." I told her to reassure her even if she narrowed her eyes to me, not sure. "What ? I know that Woods will never give it to Wolf."

"But maybe Woods will read it." She suggested.

"Maybe, we'll see when we will come back." I blowed some air inside my hands to give me some heat. "If he did make Wolf read my book, I will kill him." I joked about it, not wanting to kill Woods at all and Park saw it, making her laugh.

"In case, be ready to not only kill Woods." She scoffed, continuing her silent and lovely laugh as I was watching her in an lovely way, like hypnotized by her until our both eyes met together. "Yiri." She breathed as she moved her hand to remove the scarf hiding her scar.

"Park." I said before we both moved at the same time to kiss each other on the lips. That kiss was so different and changing from the last days....it's been like days that we couldn't feel that feeling inside of us. Then, I moved my head to start to slowly kiss passionetely alongside her scar, making her moan in pleasure.

"We should....move to the...hm....bed." She proposed but she was too pleasured and it was too late as she slowly started to get on her back on the wooden ground of the cabin with me on top of her as I removed my jacket and the bulletproof vest with it. "You're looking lovely." She affirmed, putting her hands around my waist.

"You too." I admitted, putting the bulletproof vest aside before I leaned myself against her, our face just at at few centimeters from each other as I put my hands on her face, feeling her nice touch and smiling to see her in love.....

"We have an night for us and now, I only want you....only you !"

[eldri-sv]

8 - Hitoshi Shinsou

Kaori Shinsou has always been fascinated by people's minds. She is one of the best students in her Criminal Psychology course at U.A. and - being the lucky girl she is - her professor is not only one handsome dude, but is also working on the case of the serial killer Stain - a case that has been going on for years. As she is about to become Professor Aizawa's TA during the next term, a lot of other interesting cases start popping up all over the country... AU, OC x Aizawa

Trigger warnings: mentions of death and murder, violence, blood, gore, hospitals, injuries, worry, anxiety

(possibly incomplete, if you’d like something added, please let me know)

(All India Radio - Mexicola)

If Hitoshi Shinsou hadn't known his sister as well as he did, he would have been wondering why she was running into a fight that was most definitely going to hurt her in one way or the other. But Hitoshi was close to Kaori and he knew she could become a terrible, terrible dumbass when she was faced with an extraordinary situation. No matter how smart she might be in everyday life - she just tended to make very stupid decisions sometimes. Or maybe they were brave ones. Hitoshi wasn't quite sure.

If he was less of an insomniac he might have fallen asleep on the hospital chair in his sister's room. But even though he tried to fall asleep, it was just impossible. At least he could have an eye on Kaori. She had woken up shortly earlier, babbled some nonsense and had fallen asleep again.

At least she was finally getting some rest. Kind of sad she had to get some severe head trauma for that. Hitoshi had been thinking about paying a visit to the first year that got injured while getting his sister and her professor away from the center of the attack. Apparently he got a good few broken bones from that, which was good considering how much worse it could have gone.

But Hitoshi was not the most social person in the world and he really wanted to avoid an awkward conversation with this guy he barely knew. Maybe he could send some flowers and a card later, or whatever one was supposed to do in this sort of situation. How would he know?

Hitoshi looked at Kaori who seemed to be quite stable now. The doctors were incredibly concerned, because both her and Professor Aizawa had been passed out for well over 30 minutes when they got to the hospital. Through some weird luck Kaori had gotten away without needing any surgery. She had a few broken bones and a severe concussion, but they didn't have to open her skull.

Aizawa, however, had needed surgery. He had a much more severe case of head trauma and his whole skull was apparently fractured. Or that's what Hitoshi's parents said, at least. It was kind of funny to him that he had spent more time with them at the hospital than at home. They were doctors at this very hospital and alway, always, always at work. Even now they hadn't taken time off to check on Kaori, they were busy with emergency surgeries and whatnot.

"Toshi...?"

Hitoshi looked up and saw Kaori look at him with tired eyes. She seemed a little confused, as she looked around the room.

"Rise and shine, Kaori." he said with a smug grin on his face. He was really relieved that she had finally woken up. The nurses were getting anxious for her to properly wake up. If she hadn't they would have had to run a lot more tests on her.

"Don't really feel like it. Am I... at the hospital?" she replied. She carefully sat up a little and groaned, holding her head.

"Yeah. How are you feeling?" Hitoshi said and pulled his chair up closer to the hospital bed. God, he had been so worried when he heard that there was an attack and that people were injured. He had tried to call Kaori for ages and she wouldn't answer. And then his parents called and said he should get to the hospital as quickly as he could. When he saw her first, she was just done with her CT scan and they were bringing her to the room. She was still wearing her bloody clothes and everything.

"Like shit. Got a headache. Feel a little sick and dizzy. And confused." she replied and took a look around the room.

"Can you get me some water?" she wanted to know. Hitoshi nodded and got up, picking up an empty glass that he had been drinking from. He walked over to the bathroom that was in the room and started washing out the glass and filling it with tap water. He still couldn't believe how lucky she was to be alive.

"Can you remember anything of what happened?" Hitoshi asked her, as he was on his way back to her. He gave her the glass of water and she started gulping it down quickly, as if she hadn't had anything to drink in days. Hitoshi sat down in his chair again, as Kaori put the glass on the side table.

"Let's see... I was at the Rescue Training Facility with Mr. Aizawa and then there were a bunch of criminals all of a sudden and... Aizawa told us to get out while he was fighting them off, but the exit was blocked off by a group of guys and they were questioning some of the first years... no one really took note of me, so I went to some side room and got a bulletproof vest and some weapons and then... I went to help Mr. Aizawa, because he was out there all alone and... I don't know... he got knocked out by this big massive guy and... oh dear God..." she recalled, gasping for air. There were tears streaming down her face. Hitoshi rubbed his neck. What the hell had she seen in there?

"Hey, hey, hey... it's alright, Kao-chan. It's all good." he said, trying to calm her down. He really didn't know what to tell her.

"Is... is he okay? Is Mr. Aizawa...?"

"He's alive. He had to have surgery, because his head trauma was much more severe than yours. He also fractured his face and both his arms and a few ribs were broken. Apparently some of the kids that got you out were saying that he probably would have died if you didn't distract the big guy, so... looks like your grades are gonna go up." Hitoshi explained with a shit-eating grin.

"I would hit you, if I could move right now. Aizawa will legit not care, he is wildly strict about stuff like that." Kaori corrected him, wiping a few tears from her eyes.

"Sorry. Hey, you did well. You were really brave out there. It was pretty dumb to go in in the first place, but you did a good thing. And it turned out well in the end. But don't do it again." he replied.

"Thanks, Toshi." Kaori said and burst into another crying spell. Hitoshi wasn't really the kind of person that was good with physical affection, so he hesitated a little before sitting down on the bed and hugging her, as she was crying. Whatever had really happened in there, she must have gone through a lot.

"It was bad... they... they broke his arms... right in front of... in front of my eyes... fuck..." Kaori mumbled between sobs. Hitoshi gently rubbed her back. She'd always do that when he was upset about something.

"I don't think I'll ever get that noise out of my head... that loud, terrible cracking noise..." she added and shuddered. Hitoshi tried imagining it, but he couldn't. He'd never seen someone's arms get broken by sheer brutal force.

"That sounds really bad. How did you get knocked out? They said you had a taser lying next to you. What the hell were you trying to do?" he asked, trying to change the topic, so she'd maybe be able to think about something else. He would have offered to get some coffee with her, but the nurses had told him that coffee was completely out of the question and walking around was out of the question, too, until they had done a proper assessment with her. So none of those would have worked.

"Well, when Aizawa got knocked out, I kinda just froze and... and then there was this guy behind me and he was holding a knife to my neck... and then someone else told him that one of the students got out and I kinda panicked, because I thought... I dunno what I thought, but you know... this is it, they have nothing to lose, they'll slit your throat or kidnap you as a hostage and you'll die a slow torturous death. So I just... I got my taser and I zapped the guy with the knife and then I figured I'd play hero and try to zap the big guy, because he kept smashing Aizawa's head into the ground and... well, it didn't exactly faze him much." Kaori explained.

"Wow. Sounds like you were being a badass out there. Mixed with a bit of dumbass, maybe." Hitoshi replied. He was honestly somewhat impressed and it was difficult to impress him at this point.

"There was more than a bit of dumbass. Shit, I should have just stayed with the other students. I could have easily died out there, if they hadn't managed to somehow get one person out to alert everyone else." she said, shaking her head. Hitoshi just shrugged and gave her a tired smile.

"I mean, a couple of students went in to get you and Aizawa out, when there was an opening. That's at least what I was told, so yeah. You were insanely lucky." he told her. Kaori's eyes widened in shock.

"Oh my God. Please tell me no one else got hurt. Did anyone die? Shit, please, please tell me no one got hurt getting me out of there." she said quickly. Hitoshi shook his head and leaned against the foot end of the bed.

"Nah, no one died. Most kids got a few scratches and bruises, that's all. One kid broke a few bones, but nothing serious." he told her. Maybe he shouldn't have mentioned the kid with the broken bones.

"Nothing serious? Toshi, broken bones are pretty damn serious. Like they should not be happening." Kaori protested, shaking her head, but quickly stopping. She probably realized that it hurt to shake your head when you had a terrible concussion.

"So... uh... when can I get out of here? Any chance of getting a coffee or something?" she asked, after she had stopped for long enough and was feeling better. Hitoshi just shrugged. How the hell was he supposed to know?

"No idea. They said that they were gonna run some tests on you, but were definitely keeping you in overnight, maybe a day or two, depending on how you were feeling. Said they can't do much in the hospital and a concussion needs lots of rest, so you shouldn't do anything too taxing." he explained.

"When are they coming back for the assessment? Am I allowed to walk around the hospital while I'm here? I wanna go home, I have assignments to do..." Kaori wanted to know. Hitoshi raised one eyebrow. His sister always left assignments until the last possible moment and now she suddenly wanted to do them? If he wanted to be mean, he'd be calling bullshit on that...

"Bullshit. You never do your assignments unless it's the night before."

"Well, maybe I'll change my ways after almost dying. How would you know?"

"I know you won't. But I can call the nurses and tell them you're awake enough so they can have a look at you, if you want."

"Yeah, that would be nice."

[kuriquinn]

And We Run

General Disclaimer

Rating: PG 13

Author’s Note: As promised! I blame this one entirely on my Batfam obsession lately. It’s the first thing I could think of when I saw the prompt ^_^. 

Not edited at the moment. I’m thinking I’ll probably edit all of these when I finish the prompts...

⁂ ⁂ ⁂ ⁂ ⁂ ⁂ ⁂

Sakura dangles precariously in the middle of the room, suspended by a cable above a glass display. She has already cut a small hole in the top and disabled the motion sensors, so it’s no difficult thing to carefully remove her prize from its pedestal and replace it with an equally weighted bag of sand. Then it’s only slipping the scroll into the protective capsule.

“The Museum of Cairo is going to be happy to see you,” she tells the ancient papyrus. She disabled all of the security cameras before breaking in, so she doesn’t have to worry about being overheard as she studies the scroll. It depicts the Egyptian god Thoth and apparently gives a treatise on surgical practices of the time. The museum is paying her a lot of money under the table to get this artifact back to its home.

Uncurling in midair, she places the container in her backpack and rappels back upward.

Who says cat burglars have gone out of style?

She makes no noise as she moves upward without even a flutter of fabric, a shadow among a world of shadows. Her clothing is fitted, but not in the absurdly provocative manner of traditional cat burglars. Her gear is aerodynamic and sleek, the bulkiest thing on her version a thick, bulletproof vest; she had to make that change after a few too many encounters with angry mob bosses that didn’t take to her liberal views on ownership.

She hoists herself over the skylight and onto the roof of the museum and then takes a moment to breathe in her victory. The city lights dotted across the horizon beckon to her; it’s been a while since she did some sight-seeing. Maybe once she delivers her package, she’ll come back here and—

Sakura isn’t sure what tips her off that she’s not alone; he is, if possible, quieter than she is, an actual living shadow.

She ducks before his gauntleted arm can clamp down on her shoulder, tucking and rolling until she’s back on her feet, crouched over and taking his measure.

Like her, he is dressed all in black, fitting but flexible fatigues and heavy boots. It’s summer, so he’s not wearing the usual plated armour; just a chest plate and gauntlets, his arms bare.

He’s probably not too happy about leaving himself exposed like that, but heatstroke is as much a killer as a bullet in this weather.

She takes in the dark hood, heat-vision goggles and mask covering the lower half of his face. Even so, she can imagine the expression beneath it—exasperated, resigned and a bit of amusement.

“Nice night for it,” she says innocently.

“Hand me the scroll, Lioness, and I’ll let you go.”

“Oh, darling, when has that ever worked for you?” she purrs. Secretly, she’s kind of glad for the mask, because she knows if he was looking at her without it, she might just give him because of his damn eyes…

They size each other up for a further moment.

She knows he’s stronger than her, better trained, maybe even faster—but she’s flexible, smart and just a little reckless.

Sakura bolts then, vaulting toward the edge of the museum roof and he gives chase.

The narrow high wire she strung there earlier is still attached between the museum and the building across the street—she’s surprised he didn’t cut it, which means he probably came up the other side. She darts across the expanse with a tightrope walker’s grace, knowing that she’s got him beat in this particular talent.

She gets three-quarters of the way across before the line goes slack and she’s falling—oh, he’s playing dirty tonight!—and she just manages to grip the line before she starts to fall. She slams into the face of the other building, just managing to turn her body so she doesn’t crush her backpack, but the force of it causes her to lose her grip on the line.

The slide downward is faster than she’d like, more of a fall, but not so abrupt that she can’t land on her feet—albeit painfully—and instantly start running. Seconds later, his boots hit the ground as he grapples from the roof, and he’s back in pursuit.

Sakura laughs, breathless, vaulting through the alley, tossing trashcans and cardboard boxes behind her, not looking back to see if he’s avoiding them (he probably is). In the distance, she sees a fire escape and takes a running leap, grabbing onto the suspended ladder and scrambling upward, charging up the stairs two at a time until she’s back on the rooftop.

Where I belong.

She’s got enough momentum to propel her forward faster, launching across the gap between buildings, tucking and rolling so as not to hurt herself sticking the landing, and then getting up to do it again. It’s an easy rhythm, one she’s practiced for years, but she’s still glad for the extra padding of her vest.

As she flies between rooftops, there is an explosion and the sky erupts into colours and light, forcing her to squint through her night vision goggles, but she knows these rooftops well and doesn’t need light to find her footing. She’s found her way across the city rooftops even during severe blackouts.

The thunderous sound of the fireworks masks the sound of their race, while the colours paint them like moving shadows. She’s not sure how long they run, her only just a hair ahead of him, their hunt stretching across the cityscape.  The white sparklers shimmer across them, and it’s like every individual movement is separate, as if they are surrounded by a strobe light in a club rather than the wide-open sky and stars.

There’s a lull in the sound, then, the fireworks in the distance tapering off into nothing more than a glow on the horizon, no doubt gearing up for the big finale.

It’s the only reason she catches the grunted curse from behind her, the one that sounds a hair more panicked than she’s used to.

It’s a split-second decision to turn around, sacrificing precious seconds of time, but then she sees he is no longer behind her.

Frowning, Sakura creeps back to the edge of the roof, half-expecting him to appear in front of her or jump out from somewhere, but when she looks down, her heart clenches.

He’s lying sprawled on the concrete ground of an alley, the slack line of his grapple gun loose in a way that suggests it didn’t latch on where it was supposed to.

He isn’t moving.

Sakura wastes no time vaulting affixing her own line and sliding down, skidding to her knees beside him. “Hey, Vigilante.”

She shakes him, and there is no movement.

“Vigilante, get up.”

There is no rise-and-fall of his chest to suggest he’s breathing, no air escaping his mouth or nose. She can’t feel anything through her gloves, tosses them off, and then after a moment, scrabbles at the catch of his mask. There’s a noise, like air decompressing, and she hauls it off him.

“Don’t you dare die on me,” she commands, trying to find the latch for his chest-plate beneath the t-shirt; if she needs to start CPR, it will be in the way. “There’s no way you die this way, do you hear me, Sasuke-kun?”

His eyes shoot open.

“No names in the field,” he growls and then flips them both. There is a thunderous crack as the fireworks finale begins, blues and whites and reds exploding in the sky overhead, illuminating the alleyway as if it were daytime.

He pins her to the gravel, thighs pinning her down, hands pressing her wrists above her head. Red and white light stretches across the sky, casting shadows across his face.  

Sakura blinks at him, surprised, and then smiles. “Sneaky.”

Something in his face twitches, an attempt to suppress emotion.

“So, are you going to bring me to jail now?” she hums and shimmies her hips against him as well as she can.

His left hand immediately snaps downward to still her hips, and she takes advantage, sliding her newly freed fingers against his jaw and into his hair. At the same time, she lifts upward to capture his lips with hers.

He freezes against her mouth for about five seconds, before hesitantly kissing her back.

And then, soon after that, it’s not so hesitant.

His mouth is open against hers, tongue questing and a little punishing, making her gasp and wonder if he’s trying to reprimand her through the kiss. (In which case, she hopes he reprimands her a lot more in the future.) The hand on her thigh moves, sliding downward and then lifts her leg until it’s settled around his hip, pressing them close together.

Bright sparks rain down in the sky above them, and for a while it’s just the movement of their mouths and the grasping of their hands. Only the need for oxygen makes them pull away; he looks dazed for a moment, and then something like doubt flicks across his black eyes.

He pulls back, releasing his hands but still straddling her. “I shouldn’t—”

But she follows him upward, sitting and threading her fingers into the material of his shirt, nipping his chin. “I missed you in Paris.”

“You stood me up.”

“You were late.”

“Your partner nearly destroyed the entire Champs-Élysées.”

“It’s not my fault whenever you and Flame Fox end up in the same city bad things happen,” she replies, innocent. “You know as well as I do he doesn’t do well with thinking things through. Besides, I was promised lights for my birthday, and at least he delivered.”

“While you could sneak into the Louvre and swap out a painting or two?” he raises an eyebrow.

“Well, I was upset about you missing our date.”

“Hn.” He snorts, looking upward at the sparks raining through the air, then raises an eyebrow at her. “You’ve got lights now.”

“Mmm… I do,” she sighs happily, pretending to pick lint off his armour and gives him a seductive smile. “Are you going to light up my life?”

He blinks at that and then scowls. “That was awful.”

“Hah! What can I say? Bad puns are genetic,” she laughs, and then her eyes narrow in interest. “And you didn’t answer my question.”

The last burst of light illuminates his eyes, and she doesn’t even need him to.

栗

[drizzyoneshots]

Drake Short: Undercover Part Twelve

Drake

I felt a slight twinge of nervousness at the pit of my stomach as I stood in my bedroom, getting ready to go confront Tucker and Chris at their meeting tonight. I knew things could very easily go wrong and I could possibly get hurt. Or even arrested since Tucker was in the FBI. But I knew this was what I needed to do. I needed to figure out what they hell they were doing so we could finally put a stop to all this. I wanted Miracle to feel safe in her own home again, I wanted her to go back to living her normal life. The thought of Miracle didn’t fill my heart with the same kind of love it usually did in that moment. Of course I still loved her, but I was frustrated and disappointed that she had the audacity to think I was purposely trying to put her through more hell with this. Did she really think that little of me? Could she possibly think I was that low of a man? I sighed deeply as a quiet knock on the door came. It opened and Marshall stepped into the room, carrying what I easily recognized as a bulletproof vest in his hand.

“I think you should wear this. Just to be on the safe side,” He said. I nodded, figuring I should minimize my risk in any way I could. I slipped it over my head and clipped it on each side, making sure it fit my body snugly over my shirt.

“Thanks,” I muttered, my mind still somewhere else.

“Miracle told me you’re upset with her,” He mentioned. I sighed again. I felt like that was the only sound I could make lately.

“I am. I know that probably doesn't make you happy but I am,” I said as I walked over to the closet and stepped inside to grab some shoes.

“I know what she said to you and I know it had to hurt. I don’t blame you for being angry at her. You’re doing this to try to protect her and she lashed out with something really unfair,” His voice carried from the bedroom into the closet where I was standing. I grabbed a pair of boots off the shelf and turned back around.

“With all due respect sir, I really don't feel like talking about it right now. I think I need to focus on the task at hand and worry about the rest later,” I explained somberly as I walked back into the room and over to the bed. I sat down on the edge, unlacing my boots so I could put them on.

“That’s smart. I see you’re almost ready so let’s load up in five,” He said before he left the room, letting the door click shut behind him. What I had said was true, I needed to focus on getting through confronting Tucker in that moment. Getting into my feelings about his daughter was only going to distract me and cloud my judgement, which could be deadly to all of us in a situation like were in. I stood up, ready to get it over with and finally put all this bullshit behind us. I walked out of my room, saying a silent prayer that everything would be okay and I would return back to it safely in a few hours. I was never a super religious person but I hoped if there was some higher power out there, that he was listening in that moment. I walked down the hallway, my heavy footsteps echoing through the mostly quiet house. I got to the entryway and saw Marshall standing there waiting for me.

“Good to go,” He asked. I nodded.

“Yes sir. Let’s do this,” I said, my voice sounding as sure as I felt. I heard small footsteps and Miracle appeared from around the corner. Marshall looked at her and back to me, like he was unsure of what he should do.

“I’ll give you guys a moment but we do need to get going soon,” He said hesitantly as he reached for the door. I shook my head.

“We don't need a moment,” I assured him, trying to follow behind him to the door.

“Yes we do,” Miracle countered. I turned back to her and raised an eyebrow.

“For what Miracle? So you can have more time to accuse me of being such a shitty person that I’m just doing this to spite you? We need to go and the last thing I need right now is to go into that situation worrying about this. Because you know what happens then? I’m off my game and I might actually die. We can talk later but I’m not doing this right now. You’ve spent days making me feeling like garbage about myself and I took it because I deserved it. But that shit you said earlier, I didn't deserve that. That wasn’t fair and you know it. I’m upset and disappointed and every other emotion I can feel knowing you think that about me and I don't want to take it out on you right now. I really don't want to get into a screaming match with you when I have work to get to so let’s just table it until later,” I said, my jaw clenched tightly as I spoke through my gritted teeth. I had no desire to talk this through with her at that moment. Nothing was going to be solved when I was mad and in a hurry. Marshall had already went outside to the car while I was speaking, obviously wanting no part of this tense situation.

“So this is how you want to leave things? You want to leave mad knowing damn well something could happen to you while you’re out there,” She asked, tears beginning to form in the corners of her eyes. I tried not to let that soften me but it was easier said than done.

“You’ve been mad at me for how long? What’s the difference Miracle? Me being mad doesn't mean I don't love you, it doesn't change that you know that. Is that what you need me to say to you? I love you more than life itself and I’m going to whatever I can to come back to you even if I’m mad as hell. Now I need to go. Your dad is waiting,” I said as I turned back toward the door. I opened it and stepped outside into the cool night air, it felt good on my skin that was overheating from being angry. I pulled the door shut behind me and made my way towards the SUV that was idling in the driveway. I listened to the gravel crunch under my shoes as I walked, trying to distract myself from the fact that Miracle was probably crying right then. I opened the door to the backseat and slid in. Marshall was sitting on the other side and Reggie was driving. We had limited the amount of people who were going to be in on this, just because after everything with Chris I knew both of us were a bit paranoid about who we could trust. I didn't want to risk anyone possibly being cool enough with Chris to tip him off that we were coming. Marshall looked at me for a long second after I got into the car.

“Are we good to go,” He asked. I nodded. Reggie looked back in the rearview mirror and Marshall gave him a quick nod telling him to go. I was happy that Marshall was silent most of the ride, not asking questions about what I had said to his daughter or vice versa. I didn't really wanna talk about it, I just needed to focus. The drive downtown was quick and painless, it was a bit of a blur because I spent most of the time wondering if I had been too harsh on Miracle. She had admittedly really hurt my feelings with what she said but I wondered if I was being too high and mighty about this whole thing. I knew I had done a lot wrong recently and I was asking her to forgive me for my wrongdoings but being this tough on her. But I wished she had apologized. I wished she had told me she didn't believe what she said because I think that’s the part I was having the roughest time with, wondering if she really believed I had ever purposely tried to hurt her. I wished I could have been sure that she didn’t believe that, sure that she still thought I was a good man. The car came to a slow stop and I looked out the window. We were in front of an apartment building and I instantly recognized it. I knew it all too well and I felt sick to my stomach if I was being honest.

“Drake? Are you alright,” Marshall asked. I didn't look at him.

“This is the building I lived in,” I said quietly, still wondering why the fuck they would be coming here.

“What,” He asked in disbelief. Sometimes I felt like we all forgot that I had a whole life that they knew very little about. I had a whole world before I moved into his home. A world that barely even existed anymore.

“Why would they be here,” Reggie asked, breaking the silence in the car. Then it clicked in my head.

“They need somewhere to link up where they don't have to risk people seeing them. If someone recognizes Tucker, they’re going to start asking questions about him hanging out with some dude who's got felonies on his record and a neck tattoo. He’s a straight laced FBI director. He can't just hang out with dudes like that,” I said, still staring up at the building. I felt like I was looking at a ghost.

“I still don’t get it,” Reggie said.

“I still own my apartment here. It’s just been sitting here untouched since I came to the stay at the house. No one would ever come here so it makes perfect sense,” I explained. I looked towards the fifth floor, two apartments over and sure enough, the light was on in the living room. It rubbed me the wrong way that they were sitting in an apartment I paid for, conspiring to hurt my girlfriend and her father. Of all the places they could go.

“Are you sure you’re good to do this,” Marshall asked. I nodded.

“Yeah of course. It’s just really weird being here,” I said. I felt like I was visiting a past life or something, I couldn’t explain the feeling. I shook my head, hoping to shake this feeling all together.

“Let’s just get this over with. I’m gonna head up there,” I said as I reached for the door.

“I’m gonna go with you but I’ll hang back outside the apartment until you need me,” Marshall said before he stepped out of the car. I sucked in a deep breath as I stood on the sidewalk, hoping the fresh air would help the uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. I felt like I could throw up.

“You know it’s alright to be nervous? It’s normal,” Marshall said as we walked toward the entrance to the building. I just gave him a nod, knowing he meant well but not wanting to think about it. I just wanted to get this over with. I opened the door to the building, holding it open for Marshall to come inside behind me. This lobby even smelled familiar and it was an odd feeling. I decided to take the stairs instead of the elevator, trying to stay as low-key as possible. I wasn't sure what I was gonna do when I got inside, wasn't sure what I was going to say to them. I was nervous about how this would play out but we were about to find out. We climbed to the fifth floor in silence and stepped out of the stairwell and stepped quietly down the carpeted floor to my apartment. Marshall was close behind me but Reggie had stayed downstairs to keep the car running just in case we needed to make a quick exit. 

“Wait here,” I said quietly when we were a couple doors down from my old front door. It felt weird to be giving Marshall orders since it had always been the other way around but I went with it anyway. He gave me a nod and stood still while I kept going. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears as I reached for the doorknob, sucking in a deep breath. I turned it and was partially surprised to find it unlocked. But I also knew how little they expected anyone to find them here. I pushed the door open almost silently and stepped into the apartment. I didn't close the door all the way behind me, I left it cracked so it wouldn't make any noise when it clicked shut. It was also a chance for Marshall to be able to hear what was going on. I stepped slowly down the short hallway, purposely trying to keep my steps as light as physically possible. I could hear talking coming from the living room and by the time I was at the end of the hallway, I was able to make out what they were saying.

“It shouldn't be much longer now,” I recognized Chris’s voice from around the corner.

“You said that a week ago Chris. We need to speed this up. You told me he would have been out of the house by now. Why is Graham still with Watts? Why didn't he kick him out,” Tucker asked and I could tell he was frustrated.

“I don’t see how Marshall hasn't made him go yet. I completely outed him before he left. No way he could’ve talked his way out of that. I don’t get it,” Chris said. 

“Maybe Marshall realizes he still needs Graham’s help to protect his daughter. Whether he likes him or not,” Tucker speculated. That wasn't too far off from the truth. 

“I can’t picture Miracle would want much to do with Drake after finding all this out. She’s gotta be feeling like he used her,” Chris explained. I didn't like her name in his mouth at all. Even though he hadn't said anything disrespectful yet, just the fact that they were discussing her didn’t sit well with me.

“Wasn't he using her,” Tucker asked. I crouched down slightly so I could peek my head around the corner enough to see them but still be mostly hidden by the bookshelf next to the doorway. I watched Chris shrug at Tucker’s question.

“I don’t know man. I really thought he was at first, using her to get her dad to trust him. But now I’m not sure. He acted like he genuinely loved her. Took a bullet for her and all that,” He said. Tucker shook his head.

“Fucking idiot. He had to go and fall in love and ruin my entire mission. I have a promotion waiting for me at the headquarters in Washington DC if I can get Marshall and his guys put away for life and Drake is really fucking that up.” Tucker’s voice was full of hate for me, and I could clearly see how furious he was at me for ruining his mission.

“Now we just have to do things differently. Marshall will still go to prison, but now we can send Drake with him. Once we take Miracle out of the picture, they both have nothing to lose. They’re going to be sloppy because they’ll both be emotional. They won't be able to be as careful and smart as they always are. Marshall has a thousand enemies and it’ll be easy to pin it on any of them. Him and Drake will go after them and it’s that simple. There’s gonna be a bloodbath. It’ll be the easiest case you've ever made,” Chris said with a small chuckle. Everything clicked in my head in that second. This is why they were working together, this was why they needed each other. Chris was street smart, he was helping Tucker plan to kill Miracle so he could send both Marshall and I to jail. Tucker would get his promotion and I’m sure he was going to give Chris a generous payout for it. I stood up. I had heard more than enough to make me ready to end this here and now. All the nervousness I had felt before was dead and gone now, it had been replaced by a kind of rage I had never felt before. I stepped out from behind the bookshelf, my gun already in my hand just in case. Tucker saw me first and I could tell I was the last person he expected to see here.

“Graham,” He said, the shock in his voice obvious. Chris had been sitting on the chair across from where he was sitting on the couch and he turned around the second he heard my name. His expression matched Tucker’s and he started to reach behind his back for his gun. 

“Don’t even try it,” I said sternly as I raised my gun to him. He stopped putting both of his hands in front of him.

“What the hell are you doing here,” Chris asked me. 

“Did you guys really think you could sneak around forever and no one was going to catch on? You’ve got this guy helping you Tuck, but he can't even tell when someone’s fucking following him for weeks at a time. Maybe you should’ve picked a different partner,” I said with a humorless laugh. They both still looked completely dumbfounded. 

“Aubrey come on. Put the gun down and we can talk,” Tucker said calmly. I was so disgusted with him.

“Don’t fucking call me Aubrey like you’re my friend. You’re so mad at me for being a sell out and ruining your mission but look at yourself. You’re going to work with the kind of guy you took an oath against, to kill an innocent person all for a fucking promotion? You’re no better than me,” I said, the disgust I had for him clear in my voice. 

“Get off your high horse. Look who you’re rolling with now,” He countered. 

“At least he's not killing people who have nothing to do with this business so he can feel good about himself. That’s really all this is for you. A fucking power trip so you can feel important in an office in DC because without a shiny name plate on an office door you’re a fucking pathetic excuse for a man,” I tore into him. Chris just sat there, watching us argue without a word. I saw a flash of anger in Tucker’s eyes when I called him pathetic and I knew I had hit a nerve. He stood up.

“You’re not going to speak to me like that. Look at you, some drug dealer’s slut of a daughter shows you some attention and you forget every single thing you stood for,” He raised his voice at me. I felt the same rage coursing through me that I had felt last time Chris had tried to talk about Miracle in a negative way. In a split second I had him pushed against the wall with my hand around his throat.

“I swear to God if you make another comment about her I will cut your fucking tongue out Tucker. Fucking try it,” I said through my gritted teeth. I meant it too. I would be more than happy to do it. I saw a genuine look of fear in his eyes for a moment and it confirmed everything I knew about Tucker. He was a coward. I pressed my fingers into his windpipe watching him squirm for a moment before I turned around, dragging him with me and used my grip on his throat to toss him back onto the couch. Chris was like a statue the entire time, not necessarily looking scared but he definitely seemed nervous. I tried to calm myself down a bit, taking a shaky breath. Something about him talking about Miracle caused me to see red and I needed to get my head on straight for a minute so I could think. I heard the front door shut and Marshall came into the room a few seconds after. The fear both the other men in the room had in their eyes when I came in was nothing compared to the way they were looking now. 

“Tell me what you know,” He said. I knew he probably couldn’t hear the conversation they'd been having a few moments before all that well, he probably only came in when he heard the commotion. 

“They’ve worked out some plan to try to kill Miracle and pin it on someone else so you and I will go after whoever they blame it on and end up in jail for it. If Tucker puts you away, he gets a cushy office in DC. And I’m assuming Chris gets a fat check,” I said, getting straight to the point. I watched his entire body tighten when mentioned killing Miracle. I figured he wouldn’t take that piece of news very well. He turned towards both of them, and if looks could kill, they would've been done for. But they were probably done for anyway and every single one of us knew it.

“You want to kill my daughter? You think I’m going to ever let anything happen to her? You dumbasses really think you’re going to outsmart and lay a hand on my baby girl’s head,” He asked, his voice booming through the apartment. Neither of them spoke. 

“No one has anything to say now? Come on. You both wanted to be big men. Speak up for your fucking self,” I said, stepping out from behind Marshall. I knew I should have let him do the talking but I was too frustrated. The fact that Tucker and Chris were both acting like little bitches had me annoyed. If you wanna be man enough to conspire against someone like Marshall, you should keep that energy until he puts a bullet between your eyes. Chris rolled his eyes and I knew I had gotten to him.

“Drake shut up. Jesus Christ. Coming in here with all this energy use because you know Marshall’s got a goon squad big enough to back you up if we start shooting,” He said as he relaxed in his seat. I wondered if it was because he had just accepted that he probably wasn't going to make it out of this apartment alive and so he figured he might as well say what he wanted. We both knew Marshall wasn't big on forgiveness. That’s why he had expected me to be out of the picture by now.

“I dare you to reach for that gun. I fucking dare you,” I warned him. I knew he wouldn’t but I would love to speed this up and kill him in that moment.

“Let’s just sit down and discuss this like men. Maybe we can work something out,” Tucker spoke up, treating this like it was a business meeting. Marshall and I both looked at him like he was out of his damn mind.

“You’re fucking with me right? You think I would ever want to cut a deal with a guy who wanted to kill my daughter? Someone who’s completely innocent in all this? She knows nothing, she's done nothing at all. You came for the last fucking piece of my family I have left, my pride and joy. And you think I want to sit down and talk to you like men,” Marshall spat. Tucker’s eyes were still wide with concern.

“So what now then? If you don’t want to talk then what are you doing here,” Tucker asked. He had never been in that kind of situation before and I knew it. Everything he knew about the streets was completely based on stories he’d heard and cases he worked. 

“For fuck’s sake Tucker, you know why he’s here. To get his revenge. To make sure neither of us is around to ever come for his family again,” Chris said with a shake of his head. He on the other hand knew how this went. I’m sure he’d been on the other side of it, standing right beside Marshall where I was.

“Aubrey you can’t kill me. Come on,” Tucker pleaded with me, trying to use the fact that we used to be cool to his advantage. I respected him a lot as a boss and as a man but that was dead and gone now. The fact that he was willing to cross a line and kill someone who had nothing to do with all this made me lose every ounce of my respect for him.

“I can. I will,” I assured him simply. 

“People are going to look for me. With Chris they’re gonna write it off as another kid who ran with the wrong crowd turning up dead. But the bureau will look for me,” He said. I nodded.

“I’m sure they will. But if they never find you it doesn't really matter. Even if they did find whatever’s left of you when we’re done with you, we both know that means nothing for me. Nothing connects us anymore. No one has any reason to suspect me. I know this process as well as you do, there’s no evidence that can be used against me even if someone did think I had something to do with it. But don't stress about it. To be honest with what I’ve got in mind, I doubt they’ll even be able to identify your worthless body,” I said with a shrug. Marshall let out a small chuckle at the look of pure terror that crossed Tucker’s face. He gulped loudly. Marshall looked at me.

“Ready,” He asked. I nodded.

“Yes sir,” I said, and I was confident that I was. Before I came to the Watt’s house, I always thought taking a life would be a hard thing for me to live with mentally. But I knew I would sleep easy tonight when we were done here. And I would peacefully dream of the look in Tucker’s eyes when I killed him.

...

Five hours later, Marshall and I walked through the front door of the mansion. We had taken our time doing what we needed to do, making sure both of them felt every single moment of it. I was true to my promise to Tucker and was sure his body wouldn’t be able to be identified. Then Marshall, Reggie and I cleaned up the mess, making sure there was no sign of any wrongdoings in my old apartment. It was probably cleaner than it had ever been, like nothing ever happened. Then we had gotten rid of all the evidence. Everything except the bodies had been burned, just like we would do with our bloody clothes later once we got out of them and got showered. The bodies were out on a boat with Reggie so he could dump them somewhere they would become shark bait. As soon as we walked in, I heard Miracle running towards us. I had figured there was no chance in hell she was going to be asleep, not until we got home. As soon as she saw me she stopped in her tracks. I was completely covered in blood, it had soaked through my grey t-shirt and my jeans. Marshall had worn all black so it was harder to tell how messy he had gotten. Her eyes widened and I knew what she was thinking.

“It’s not mine baby, I’m fine. We’re both fine,” I assured her sleepily. It had been a long ass night and I was ready to go to bed. Her body relaxed a bit but she still seemed concerned.

“What happened? Are things good,” She asked. Marshall nodded.

“Everything’s back to normal sweetheart. The threat is gone and we’re all safe again. I’m gonna head to bed. I’m getting too old to be putting in these long nights,” He said, leaning down and kissing his daughter’s forehead.

“Good night Daddy. I love you,” She said. He smiled.

“I love you too. And Drake, thank you. I couldn’t have done this without you,” He said. I nodded.

“Of course. I’ve always got your back,” I told him. And I meant it. He had my full loyalty. He gave me a small smile and walked towards the stairs. Miracle was still keeping her distance from me, like she was scared to come near me. I knew she was wondering if I was still upset but I had decided that I wanted to let it go. The people who had been trying to hurt her were finally gone and I wanted to relax and celebrate that, not argue with her. I hoped she felt the same way because we had both had our fair share of being mad lately.

“Don’t look so scared of me,” I said. 

“I’m sorry. For what I said earlier. You know I didn't mean it. I was just...I was scared something was going to happen to you tonight so I lashed out but that’s not an excuse,” She rambled, words flying out of her mouth like she was trying to get them all out before I could interrupt her. I just laughed at how cute she was being.

“It’s okay. I’m not mad anymore baby. I know I came down hard on you and that wasn't fair either considering what I’ve put you through,” I said. She shook her head. 

“No you were right. What I said was bullshit. Even with everything that’s happened, I know you never tried to hurt me. I know how much you’ve done for me Drake. Look at you right now, you’re covered in someone else’s blood for me. You took a bullet for me. I know you love me. I was just upset,” She said, her eyes tearing up just like they did earlier before I left. I grabbed her and pulled her into my arms for the first time since she found out the truth about what brought me here and I had never felt better about just holding her.

“Hey, don't cry. It’s fine. Everything is fine. I promise you it is. We’re good baby. Everything is going to be so good from here on out,” I promised her. She nodded against my chest before she pulled away from me.

“I love you,” She said with a small smile.

“I swear I love you more. I need to get out of these clothes baby girl,” I said. I took a few steps towards my bedroom and turned around when I didn't hear her behind me.

“You coming,” I asked. She gave me a smirk and followed right behind me.

[a-writing-cloud]

Former Assassin Reader x McCree

Word count: 2,751

Written on Fighter’s Block! It was really fun. Freeing up some brain power to work on a nice BNHA story next - will be uploaded to my AO3, CloudsOfAnime!

You paced your room, clutching your phone. It wasn't like Jesse to not pick up when he was just out for a few drinks. You'd been too busy with your work, unable to accompany him, so you weren't sure if he was passed out drunk somewhere, or in actual danger.

Glancing at the laptop on your desk, you silently cursed the classified datafiles that you were keeping safe for Overwatch. If Jesse really was in danger, you'd bet an arm and a leg that it was related to that.

But maybe you were just overreacting. Taking a seat at your desk, you redialed your partner's number again. Still no answer. You'll keep trying.

--

The phone buzzed on the table, your smile lighting up the screen for the millionth time.

"She's really persistent," said a man. He was wearing a padded suit, complete with a bulletproof vest. Not the most comfortable of combinations, but it worked if one wanted to operate on the streets. They sported Talon's symbol.

Jesse would love to answer, but he was more concerned with staying alive at the moment. There wasn't much he could do strapped to a chair, his vision blurring every other minute. He was worse off than the Talon agent, blood trickling from multiple wounds, his face swollen and bruised.

The agent glanced over at the cowboy. "I wonder what she's doing right now. She must be so frustrated, worrying her pretty lil' head off. I'd love to see her face right now."

Jesse growled. "Then why didn't you take her instead?" He immediately regretted what he said. He didn't want you to come to any harm. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. The combination of physical and emotional pain wasn't doing much to help his thinking.

"There were difficulties on the matter of bringing her in," the agent said, frowning slightly. He quickly snapped out of it. Flashing Jesse a sly grin, he added, almost as an afterthought, "You wouldn't want to know the details."

He was just trying to get a rise out of him. Jesse knew that. He needed to keep his cool. There had to be some way to get out of this - there always was. Besides, he thought, giving the man a quick glare - they needed him alive for the information he had. It must be a rare occurrence, to come across an Overwatch agent with valuable information. And with their guard down.

The phone went silent, and Jesse stared at it intently. It lit up again after a few moments, but cut off earlier than expected. This caught the agent's attention as well. "Oh? Giving up already?"

Before Jesse could react to that, there was a knock. He glanced around, squinting at the dark corners of the room - there's a door? Wait, of course there was. How else would anyone get anywhere?

The agent grunted and checked his watch. "Boss' a tad early, but that's all the better for us, isn't it?" He chuckled to himself and went to open the door.

Instead of an equally buff and intimidating Talon agent walking through the door, a small, lithe figure flew in with a flying kick, knocking the agent flat on his back. The newcomer, dressed in an oversized black cape, and a hood covering half of their face. The figure turned towards Jesse, in all his tied-up glory.

In the blink of an eye, the figure was beside Jesse, cutting through his bindings with a small... kitchen knife? They were also pulling out swathes of bandages, cleaning his wounds and wrapping them up as quickly as possible. It was a sloppy, but did the job nonetheless.

"Who...?" His question trailed off when the person lifted their hood slightly.

--

It didn't take too much effort to track down Jesse, thanks to the tracker you'd implanted on his phone a few weeks back, when he kept disappearing to go on "stealthy" missions. For some insane reason, no one had ever found it, and you're quite grateful for that now. Chasing down the signal to an underground location beneath an abandoned building, you snuck your way in, utilizing the universal aesthetic of soft, dim lights in a villain's lair.

When you finally found the room that Jesse was most likely being kept in, you prepared to kick in the door. Before that, though, you had a brief moment of genius and knocked on the door. As soon as it opened, you spun and sent a kick flying right at the sucker.

You rushed into the room, quite surprised to find that no one else was standing guard, but your shock quickly faded to concern as you took in Jesse's battered state. Swiftly stabilizing him and dressing his wounds, you tugged your hood upwards to reveal yourself, smiling softly as he spluttered, recognizing you.

You shushed him. "We have to go quickly. They'll know something's up soon."

A loud roar sounded behind you as the agent, having caught his breath, charged at you. You deftly sidestepped his swing, aiming a careful jab at the soft spot underneath his ribcage, using his own momentum against him. The loser's battle cry morphed into a garbled shout as he doubled over, and you cracked an elbow against his spine for good measure as he crumpled to the floor.

You turned to hoist help Jesse to his feet, who was switching between gaping at you and the defeated agent. "Wha - where - how?!"

"Escape now, questions later." You'd kept your secret for this long - a little longer wouldn't hurt. You supported Jesse as you retraced your footsteps, sometimes dragging him faster when the situation called for it.

A loud siren blared throughout the building, and you could only imagine what it entailed. You heard a soft grunt beside you, and Jesse sped up considerably, realizing that both of you were now in even worse danger than before. Internally, you smiled, proud of your partner's resilience.

As you rounded the last corner, surprisingly without bumping into anyone, you finally saw the reason why. There were a bunch of people blocking your escape route. They must've figured out how you got into the building and risked the chances of you returning to the same spot for your exit. You caught one of them muttering into a radio.

Jesse tensed visibly beside you. It seemed like an impossible barrier - there were at least seven of them, more than likely armed to the teeth, and also probably more proficient at close-quarters combat than that unconscious buffoon. You made sure Jesse had his balance and quickly pulled his arm off you.

"No, wait - "

You interrupted him with a quick peck on the lips. "Stay put. Whatever happens, don't move a single muscle."

He seemed ready to protest again, but you gave him a stern glare, the kind that you reserved for intimidating your enemies. Seeing that he's not moving anymore, you turned to the obstacles in front of you.

You weren't seeing them as people anymore. You couldn't. That would interfere with your emotions and reaction time. These were just simply annoying bumps in the road. You shook your wrist to free the device strapped to it and slapped the wall, never taking your eyes off the targets, gauging their response.

Nada. They seemed to be waiting for you to make the first move.

You took a deep breath and charged at them, rotating your wrist every now and then. You'd counted clearly now - there were seven obstructions, four in the front and three in the back. The row in front leaned down slightly and entered a defensive stance.

When you were a few steps away, one of them lunged forward, arms extended. You quickly dodged and switched directions, then pivoting on the landing foot to dodge a swing from another target. There was a slim chance they could match your reactions - they probably weren't Talon's best, after all.

Refocusing your attention to the task at hand, you weaved through the front line, evading lunges and swings. They were getting more frustrated by the second - surely you must be mocking their incompetence by doing nothing but dodging!

On some level, you were. But that wasn't the goal.

You rushed for the wall, jumping at the last moment and launching yourself behind the second row, who were trying to aim with pistols. With all your movement, it's possible that they'd end up massacring themselves instead of taking you down.

The second row was easier to dodge. Out of the three guns, they only managed to squeeze off two bullets, one which barely nicked the back of your neck. At that, you faltered a bit, but picked up the pace once you concluded that you were, in fact, not dead. You were extra careful that your targets included the guns.

After weaving through the second row and reaching the opposite wall, you jumped and launched yourself off it again in another direction, this time flying back to where Jesse was standing. Instead of watching your epic performance, he was dutifully acting as a lookout to make sure no one was running down the hallway where you'd come from.

You landed beside him, and the targets looked extremely confused. Perhaps they only had orders to block the exit, but not actually engage in combat? It was very strange. But all the better for your plan.

You held up your arm and tapped at the device that encased your wrist. The trail of thread you'd been dragging out in the air behind you instantly snapped to attention, going from inconspicuous, floating, silky string, to razor-sharp filaments that hardened in place and glittered under the dim lights of the compound. The targets froze at this new development. The lines were crisscrossed between the targets like a spider's web, especially dense around the guns to make sure they wouldn't be able to function normally.

One of them brushed against a line accidentally. It sliced through the bulletproof vest like butter, and he quickly readjusted his position with a yelp. The rest of them were starting to realize the predicament that they were in, staring at you with wide eyes.

You took another deep breath and closed your eyes, yanking your arm back -

There was a firm grip on your arm, preventing you from activating the clenching mechanism that would slice the targets cleanly in half. You opened your eyes and turned to look beside you. Jesse. He had a pained expression on his face, along with a healthy mix of alarm, shock, and... fear.

And so, the veil of indifference was ripped from your mind, and the full reality of what you'd been about to do slammed into you like a freight train. You started trembling, and the image of the brave, kickass rescuer slowly crumbled to reveal a terrified assassin.

"You've done more than enough," Jesse murmured into your ear, his other arm reaching up to pat your back reassuringly. Even though he didn't mean it that way, the words pierced through your chest like a bullet. "We should go, now."

You nodded, your mind somewhat hazy. You tapped the wall again, at the spot where you'd initially put the starting point of the thread, to seal it up and make sure it retains its shape for another few hours. Lifting your other arm, you clicked a hidden button on your wrist cuff. A short, glinting rod shot out, and you used it to slice open a safe passageway to your exit.

--

It's been two days since you rescued Jesse. It's been two days since you've revealed your past. It's been two days since you last spoke.

Jesse left you alone so you could gather your thoughts. He didn't press for any details, and you were grateful for that. He trusted you enough that you'd tell him about everything that'd transpired eventually, on your own terms. He was too caught up with reporting in at Overwatch to ask about anything specific, anyway.

It's been two days since you've last touched the two wrist cuffs that had defined you for so long.

Leaving the other wrist cuff alone, you examined the one with the extendable rod while waiting for Jesse to come home. The rod wasn't too sharp, kind of like those disposable plastic knives, but it did its job. You used it to absent-mindedly whack the table a few times.

Soon after, Jesse arrived home from work. He must've sensed the tension in the air, because he paused for a moment with a curious glance your way and went to sit on the couch, as opposed to going straight to his room, like he'd done in the past two days.

"I used to be an assassin," you mumbled, your words coming out clearer than expected. "One of the best undercover and infiltrating assassins. I made sure to keep a low profile. Had a lot of clients contact me through a few trusted managers. Eventually someone caught wind of me, and that's also around the time I decided to retire. It was fun, sneaking around, but pretending you didn't exist is so... exhausting."

You paused to see if he was listening. He was.

"I wanted to live a normal life for once." You never raised the volume of your voice, keeping it a soft murmur, reliving the moment when you'd decided to quit your illegal job. It'd been one of the most freeing moments in your life. "Get a normal, non-life-threatening job, settle down and slow down, maybe get a cat or two. I wanted to have a safe place where I didn't need to strategize about killing targ - I mean, people, and could relax without looking behind my shoulder all the time."

You chuckled, casting a dark look at the other wrist cuff on the table. "I never know why I kept these. Maybe I thought, they would come in handy some day. And they did - didn't they?" You looked over at Jesse's figure, unmoving on the couch. He made a noise that sounded like mild agreement.

There was a moment of silence, stretching infinitely, before you cleared your throat. "Thanks for stopping me back there. I can't - won't - live with another life taken by these satanic flying threads."

Silence.

... Please. Anything but this silence.

"If you want to leave me..." You started, but then quickly realized that this wouldn't be the most pressing issue. It's been made clear, time and time again, and Jesse loved you more than anything else, and he would never leave you. Which meant...

"I know I've killed a lot of people." He was probably reminded of the various cases of unsolved murder. "I... I know that you're probably going to have to turn me in." Your voice, if possible, got quieter, but it still seemed thunderous to you as it carried throughout the room. "I'm fine with that. As long as you're alright."

At this point, Jesse stood up, and his face was devoid of any expression or emotion. He was thinking. "Thanks for telling me this. I'll see what I can do."

Then he stalked off to his room. You didn't feel any better than before you'd spilled out everything, but at least he knew now. You left the cuffs on the table and retired to your room as well.

--

The next week passed by in a blur. You could hardly believe what had happened. Jesse had told Overwatch of your predicament - essentially, be put in prison for life, or... an alternative that he'd proposed. And Overwatch accepted his proposal, with more than a few officers making their interest absolutely clear.

A few days after you had told Jesse everything, he ordered you to pack your things and head to the Overwatch headquarters, where you'd be staying for the next six months. It was to put you under official surveillance, and for you to start your normal job as an employed trainer at Overwatch. The people there actually gave you a shot at redemption - unthinkable. You didn't want to believe it, thinking that it was maybe too good to be true.

"At least you know your mistakes," Jesse told you one day, pulling you in for a tight embrace. It's been a while since you were an emotional mess, and the warmth and security of his arms brought tears to your eyes.

"Thank you."

[typewrter]

Scott’s phone vibrates. He lets go of the car door and fumbles his phone out of his pocket.

“You can sit shotgun,” he tells Liam and steps back to sit in the back instead. Liam pats his shoulder as he passes him, tired smile around the eyes.

He only half-listens to Mason’s and Liam’s hushed conversation about the newly bitten wolf whose scent they had lost. Instead, he checks Stiles’ message.

‘Fyi some newbie intern nearly killed ur best friend today! Pointed a LOADED gun at me & then tripped over his own feet’

Scott can’t help but smile as his thumbs fly over the keyboard to reply: ‘Aren’t you a newbie intern too?’ He follows it up with, ‘Sounds a lot like you actually, rmbr when your dad wouldnt give you a gun?’

‘Got upgraded to trainee! keep up, scotty!!’

Of course Scott knows that. Doesn’t change the fact that Stiles is very new at the FBI, does it?

“Are you texting Argent?” Mason asks from the front.

Scott watches the little icon symbolizing that Stiles is typing for a moment longer, then switches conversations.

“Yeah,” he says. “Let him know we lost the lead.”

“Thanks to me,” Liam interject, frustration evident in his voice.

Scott looks up. Liam is hunched up in his seat. It’s night and save for the passing streetlights it’s dark out, but Scott can still tell he has his hands balled to fists in his lap.

“Hey.” He leans forward to drop a hand on Liam’ shoulder, squeezing it briefly. “Don’t beat yourself up, okay? I lost the scent, too. We’re not totally sure there’s even a bitten werewolf here in the first place, right? It’s all just rumors and hearsay.”

Scott’s phone vibrates twice in quick succession. He ignores it.

Mason gives them a quick look. “Yeah, and what am I supposed to say? I can’t even smell the stuff you guys can in the first place!”

Liam gently shoves Mason in the arm, earning himself a “Hey, I’m driving, genius!”

“I’m texting Argent to let him know that we lost the scent,” Scott says and sits back again.

Stiles sent him an image and a text. Still, Scott forces himself to finish his text message to Argent before checking what Stiles sent him.

(After that, he waits a few seconds longer, to see if Liam is really all right. His heart is beating steady, his chemo signals are normal, and he’s arguing with Mason about whether they should throw Corey a surprise birthday party or not. Good enough for Scott.)

The picture is of Stiles; he’s wearing a bulletproof vest with the letters FBI on it over his a dark blue outfit and he’s holding a gun, aiming at something to the left of the camera. The safety glasses on his faces do little to hide the look of intense concentration that Scott’s seen a thousand times before. He’s probably at a shooting range, from the looks of his surroundings.

There’s a curious tugging in Scott’s stomach.

‘Can handle a gun just fine now ;)’, the accompanying text says. ‘Plus I look rly fcking hot holding one so’

Scott has no idea what that has to do with anything but he can’t disagree.

The thing is, Stiles has been – well, Scott would almost say, flirting with Scott for a while now. It’s less crude and overt than when he did it as a joke when they were just kids. More like actual, real, adult flirting, and less like a silly joke. After everything that came with the bite, Stiles had stopped for a while, slowly phasing out the jokes about making out. Scott honestly hadn’t even noticed until Stiles had started up again a couple of weeks ago, mostly over text and on the phone now, since they rarely see each other.

Maybe it’s just Stiles’ way of saying he misses him.

Except, Stiles has no problem outright admitting to missing Scott, (and neither has Scott, for that matter, since he misses Stiles a lot, all the time).

So Scott has no idea what this thing is. All he knows is he always tended to completely ignore those kind of jokes when they were younger and now he wants to reciprocate.

Push the boundaries. Just a little.

‘Didnt know an attractive face was required for being a good shot’, he texts back, lacking anything more clever to say.

They enter Beacon Hills. As Mason stops at a red light, he turns around, trying not to get twisted up in his seatbelt, and takes one, two, three selfies with Liam and Mason in the background, their looks changing from surprised to silly faces with each picture.

“What’re you doing?” Liam wants to know.

Scott shrugs. “Letting Stiles know what we’re up to.”

He picks the second picture to send. Mason’s and Liam’s faces are funnier in the third one – Liam is actually sticking his tongue out and it’s adorable – but well. Scott looks better in the second one, he thinks. He can’t help that he looks tired and sweaty but his smile is less goofy and more attractive. He hopes.

‘Liam&mason say hi!! :D’

Stiles replies immediately with a bunch of shocked emojis. ‘Didnt know u were w/ them! How’s our firstborn doing? Where were u? I dont see any blood’, he adds and then a thumbs up emoji.

Scott is typing a reply, when another message comes through: ‘U rly spending ur weekend at home chasing wolves buddy?’

At that, Scott almost laughs because yeah, of course he does. So does Stiles whenever he gets a chance to be home. Scott regularly has to talk him out of going werewolf chasing (in the nice way) in Virginia, and he’s not always successful.

When another message with more question comes through, Scott just sends, ‘Hold on’.

Mason stops in front of Scott’s house just a minute or two later, Scott’s phone still buzzing in his lap.

“You gonna be okay to get home?” Scott asks, even though they have a car and nothing really happened tonight. He can’t help but worry. Malia likes to blame his mother hen instincts on him being an alpha, but privately Scott thinks that it’s all him.

“Yeah, dude,” Liam replies. “We gonna see you before you leave town?”

“Yeah, I’ll swing by.” Scott gives them each a clap on the shoulder before exiting the car. He barely has one foot on the pavement before his phone starts ringing.

“I was gonna call you in literally ten seconds,” he says as a greeting, letting the car door fall closed behind him and watching Mason and Liam drive off.

“But you haven’t. And you weren’t answering. Could’ve been eaten by a monster by now,” Stiles says, voice going a hundred miles an hour as always.

“I’m not. Still alive and kicking.” Scott knows Stiles can hear him smiling, but it doesn’t matter.

“You ever gonna tell me what you guys were up to or am I gonna have to drive over there and drag it out of you?”

“Dunno,” Scott says. He’s fumbling for the right key for the door, trying to keep his voice down now in case his mum’s already gone to bed. “If me not telling you results in you coming here, then I’m not gonna say a word.”

Stiles is quiet for a long moment. He sounds unusually fond when he demands, “Spit it out, boy wonder.”

So Scott tells him about the rumor of the newly bitten wolf without a pack three towns over, and how it was supposedly a young girl. That they’d gone looking for her, but lost her scent, or maybe never even had it, they’re not sure.

He’s still explaining as he walks by his mom on the couch where she’s watching one of her shows. He stops talking to drops a kiss on her hair.

“Who’s that?” she mouths up at him.

“Stiles.”

“Tell your mom hi from me!” Stiles demands in a loud voice as if he expects it to carry from the tinny phone speaker all the way to Scott’s mom on the couch. Scott winces.

“He yells hi,” he dutifully relays.

His mom smiles. “Hello to you too, Stiles. Tell me how he’s doing tomorrow, hm?” She’s already nestling back down into her blanket so Scott just nods and takes the stairs up to his room two at a time.

“So basically a whole lotta nothing,” Stiles finally sums up when Scott finishes explaining.

Scott laughs. “Pretty much, yeah. I texted Argent cause he was the one who told us about the rumor. If she pops back up again and I’m back at UC, Liam’ll have to go after her. Or I’ll come back down, we’ll see.”

“Think he can handle it?”

“Yeah,” Scott says. “I think he can. Better than he thinks he can, actually.”

Stiles laughs. “That’s cause you always have faith in everyone.”

“I’m just not as paranoid you,” Scott teases back, making sure his voice is soft so Stiles won’t misunderstand. That’s not entirely right anyway, he thinks. Stiles had faith in Scott, always and all along.

“That’s why we’re the dream team, Scotty.”

“Yeah.” Scott kicks up his feet against the wall, lets them slide down back onto the bed slowly. “Miss ya, buddy.”

Stiles exhales loudly and there’s a rustling sound. It sounds like he’s shifting around on his bed.

“Miss you too. So weird not to see your face every day, honestly. Earlier, I was staring at that pic you sent like some kind of serial killer scooting out his next victim.”

Scott snorts. He knows the feeling; though he feels more lovesick than serial killer-like. He’d known that Stiles leaving would be hard on him, but he hadn’t expect it to be like this. Hadn’t seen it coming that Stiles’ voice in his ear would be enough to make his heart beat in a quicker rhythm.

“You coming home for Christmas, right?” Scott asks.

“'Course I will.” Stiles pauses. “You’re gonna need a crowbar to get me off you.” There’s something in his voice – embarrassment, maybe. Hesitation.

“Nah, I’ll like it. I’ll superglue you to me and then no one can demand we be separated for the whole week. Like that time in second grade, you remember that?”

Back then, Stiles had spilled glue on their shirts, causing them to stick together within seconds. This time, Scott thinks, he’d glue their hands together instead.

Stiles laughs quietly. “That was totally on accident!”

“Well,” Scott says slowly. “It won’t be this time.”

He hears Stiles shift again. Suddenly, Stiles smacks his lips, making a loud, obnoxious kissing sound into the speaker. “Alright, Scotty boy, it’s a plan.”

Scott shakes his head and smiles.

[wherethewildjinsare]

The Deviant - Ch. 1

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

In Hae has grown accustomed to the grit and grime of her job: walking in the shadows, using her empathic abilities to anticipate and fight darkness. Now a new deviant threatens to throw everything into chaos. It would be easier to deal with if In Hae wasn’t so distracted by his dimples.

Rap Monster hero au Word count: 3,166

The rain fell fast and hard, the drops so large they hit In Hae’s eye like tiny fists when she looked up to get a feel for where the moon was. She wiped her eye and cursed. It was too cloudy. She had no sense of the time now. Her phone had run out of batteries while she ran after the Troublemaker. It was the stupidest name, she thought. Couldn’t he have been a little more imaginative?

All she knew was the old woman had said he was planning to attack a residential building. An apartment. With a particular target in mind. At 2 a.m. And it would be raining. She’d followed the Troublemaker to this area and lost sight of him, and now she had no idea which way to go. She closed her eyes, honing her senses, trying to get a feel for any fear in the area.

That was the problem with the Troublemaker. He had no remorse, no real emotion. The only time she could sense him nearby was when he he was getting a thrill as he was killing a new victim or robbing a bank or, as was his full time job, crushing another business, growing his firm’s monopoly in the energy industry under the banner of green, renewable energy. She didn’t know where the energy actually came from, because it was, apparently, renewable. But there was something fishy about the whole operation.

She was shaken from her thoughts by a pang in her chest. She felt the fear just as strongly as whomever was feeling it at this moment, and it was nearby, she could tell. But where. 

She closed her eyes to get a better sense for the emotion. It pulled her in a particular direction. Down. Was she on top of the very building that the victim was in? Or was it just a child afraid from a nightmare. It was worth the risk. She’d just have to keep her sense reaching for other signs of terror nearby. 

Her own nervousness kicked in. She could always tell the difference between the feelings that were her own and those of others. What if it was wrong? What if she couldn’t save whomever it was.

She went to the roof’s door and picked the lock. It was a strong lock too, and it would have taken a less capable person far more time to break it. She, however, unlocked it in a matter of seconds. Inside the quiet stairwell, she could hear the rain pelting the rooftop as the water dripped from her soaked person. 

Ah, this won’t do, she thought. But what else was there, she needed to wear the costume. All black. A ski mask over top of that. She looked like a burglar. But still, it was worth having something to cover up her identity. She wore a bulletproof vest too. It was a double blessing, protecting against bullets and, to a certain extent, knives, and it also covered her breasts and bulked up her figure, making it harder to tell her gender. But still, it was uncomfortable to be so wet.

She crept down the stairs, the fear pulling her toward the 10th floor. The door she was led to was dark, the light beside it broken. She wondered if this was a sign of the Troublemaker coming by. It was locked. This was a different sign. Maybe he wasn’t there. But then she heard a bump inside. Quickly and with steady hands, she gently picked the lock and opened the door silently. She was glad the hallway light was out.

The interior was dark as well, save for a dim light  coming from the back and to the right. Lightning flashed, illuminating the living room with a plain white couch, bearskin rug (fake, she judged from the entryway hall) and a lamp by the coffee table. It looked clean. A large window, from which the lightning gained entry, made up the far opposite wall. 

She crept forward once again, letting the light from the back bedroom, she guessed, guide her path. She didn’t hear the noise again as she tiptoed. The going was painfully slow, and as she reached the corner she heard a bang. A second bang, and a breaking, like the sound of a lamp falling over and a light bulb shattering. Sure enough,the light that had been guiding her path disappeared.

In Hae jumped, too loudly. Screw this, she thought, running into the room and turning on the light switch. Instead of Troublemaker standing over the bed as she expected, In Hae saw someone she’d never seen before with a long frown on the saddest face she’d ever seen standing over the bed. The only thing was, he looked sad but his eyes were shining. Not with tears, but with a glee she’d only seen in Troublemaker’s eyes when he was about to do something horrible. 

She wasn’t sensing anything from him though, so it must not be real. Or it must just be what his face looked like. He was standing over a surprised looking man  laying in bed. He had on glasses, and a book lay idly on the bed. When the lights switched on, both figures looked over at In Hae.

“Ah, what’s this?” The man with the frown said slowly. His voice was breathy and syrupy, like In Hae imagined a frown would sound if it were a noise.

“Where’s the Troublemaker?” In Hae kept her voice smooth. She’d learned how to control her own emotions a long time ago. It was the price she paid to hone in her empathic abilities. She felt emotions strongly, and it was too hard to feel her own and others constantly. So she learned to control both. Which is the only reason she was able to feel calm now.

“Yes, he told me to come. We were expecting you.”

“How could you be expecting me,” In Hae said, more out of skepticism than shock.

“That old woman who came in today, you think she was helping you? She was working for us. Or, rather, we were working with her. She’s not really an old woman. Or she’s more than an old woman, if you know what I’m saying. But that doesn’t really matter in the end, now does it.”

“What the hell is going on,” the figure on the bed yelled.

“Ah, I couldn’t forget about you. We’ve been looking for you for a long time. Waiting, may be the better word.”

“You’re so long-winded,” In Hae said before rushing at him, bringing her taser gloves out from behind her back and pressing the button on the side of her hand with her thumb in a swift motion. She swiped at the sad man’s face, catching him on the cheek and causing him to fall back off the bed.

“You’ve got a reason to frown now, I figure,” she said, jumping up on the bed, the man behind her standing up next to her and picking up a baseball bat she hadn’t noticed by the bed.

“You didn’t reach for that earlier?”

“I was reading.”

“For real?”

“I was into it.”

In Hae shut his fear out, as it was distracting her. She didn’t need to know more to know it was his fear she was feeling.The sad man jumped back up. Or rather glided back up. 

This time, he seemed bigger than before, the cape behind his back growing large and wide as he went to envelop them both. Before he got a chance, In Hae recharged her glove and pressed her hand again into his neck, grabbing the soft skin and sending fissures through the man’s body. The man behind her began hitting the sad man’s arms, which were stretched out with the cape. The dark figure fell to the ground, twitching, as the man began to beat him on the ground. 

In Hae winced, feeling some of the pain from the sad man seep into her before she had a chance to control it. 

“Stop stop.”

“What, why?”

“Just stop,” she said. As soon as he had, In Hae gasped in relief. Only sometimes did she feel the physical pain from others, but it was usually when the subject she was empathing with associated the physical pain with a traumatic memory or experience. The sad man jumped up and ran through the window, his cape billowing behind him and allowing him to glide into the dark below.

In Hae breathed out, the hot air catching on the mask in front of her face and making the fabric warm as well as moist. She realized in that moment she was still soaking wet and jumped off the bed, turning to face the man in the room. She bowed, as was her custom in such situations.

“I’m sorry for causing such a mess.”

“A little mess is the least of my problems right now,” the man said. He had blonde hair, dyed, but stylish. His eyes were dark, and, In Hae noticed, he had dimples, which were deep-set in his cheeks as he smiled at her in relief and gratitude. She could feel it inside her own chest and had to refocus to shut it out. It was unnecessary and distracting at this point.

It struck In Hae as odd that Troublemaker would go to so much trouble to have this man assassinated in a complicated plot. And why drag her here? To make a point? That would be like him. They’d been looking for him for a long time. Was “they” just Troublemaker and the sad man? And the old woman, apparently. Or were there more?

“Excuse me but, do you have any idea why they would be looking for you?” She was hyper conscious of her wet clothes.

He shook his head before his eyes glanced at her dripping figure. “Would you like to change or dry off or something? I’m Namjoon, by the way.”

“Thank you, but no,” she said. She ignored his introduction, not offering her own name. Perhaps the villains had wanted her to stay close to this person to take them both out at the same time. But either way, she couldn’t very well leave him to himself. Based on what the sad man had said, Namjoon wouldn’t be left alone for long.

“I’ll be leaving then,” she said, heading toward the door to the bedroom.

“Don’t leave, please,” he called, trying to keep the panic from his voice. In Hae could feel his anxiety knocking on her chest. She didn’t open the door and chose to shut it out instead.

“They won’t try again tonight. It’s not the troublemaker’s modus operandi. He likes style and flourish, and trying again the same night after an unsuccessful attempt is something he’d consider tacky, even if he sends a henchmen to do the job.”

“Still,” Namjoon hesitated. “Could you stay? You don’t have to be in the room.You could wait in the living room or dry off in the bathroom. Whatever you want.”

In Hae considered him through her mask, her eyes glued to his form. Because her mask had opaque coverings over the eyes, Namjoon was looking more at her forehead than her eyes, though she could see him searching the mask’s face for where her eyes might actually be.

“I’ll look around,” she said, leaving the room.

“Wait a second,” he jumped out the bed awkwardly, hopping on one foot as he landed near the shattered glass from the lamp. He hopped to a dresser in the corner and searched through the drawers, bringing out a folded, crisp white undershirt and sweatpants, holding them out to her.

“I promise I won’t try to see your face if you change into these to dry off.” In Hae grabbed them from him and left the room, closing the door behind her. Back out in the living room, she decided against turning on the lights and threw the clothes on the couch. Spotting a charger in the wall by the couch, she pulled out her damp phone, shaking it a few times, and plugged it in. She walked back to where she’d thrown the clothes, ignoring them and instead picking up the pile of mail that had been put sloppily on the table.

“He must have a maid or something come in every so often,” she thought. “The place is too spotless, considering how carelessly the mail was put on the table.”

She looked through. Subscription renewal reminders for Rolling Stone, a bill, and a postcard from someone named Jeon Jungkook. One of the envelopes caught her eye. It had been opened already, torn carelessly, the letter read and placed back inside. She pulled it out and began reading it.

The letter detailed the lab results from Namjoon’s visit to the hospital earlier that month.

“The results for your test were inconclusive. An abnormality in the thyroid was detected, suggesting hyperactivity, but you tested negative for hypothyroidism based on your symptoms. No abnormality in your vision was found, despite complaints of intermittent headaches and blurred vision. More testing is needed to determine malformation in parietal lobe. Contact our offices to consult about a CAT scan for more conclusive results.”

So they think there’s something going on in his brain, In Hae thought. Though what the thyroid had to do with it, she couldn’t fathom. She’d dropped out of med school after the symptoms of her empathic abilities became too severe for her to control enough to concentrate on her studies, but from what she could remember, she couldn’t think of anything that might cause the symptoms she was seeing described in the letter. She replaced the paper in the envelope and looked around. It was clear she wouldn’t be able to leave this person on his own. Another attack was certain, and until she figured out why they seemed to want him gone, she would need to follow him closely. 

Lightning flashed again, a low rumble, far off, following after. The flash illuminated the open kitchen, shining black marble surfaces and floor tiles against pristine white walls. A calendar hung on the black refrigerator. She lifted the page to the right month. April. The picture for that month was a yellow cartoon bear with a large head standing over a flower with an umbrella. A few items were scribbled on the upcoming dates, some illegible. One, tomorrow, was conveniently written large and neat. “11 a.m. Charlie’s Place.”

Nothing else stood out. Checking back at her phone, she turned it on. Ten percent battery. It must be a speed-charger, she thought gratefully. She unplugged it and looked to the left of the kitchen. Three black doors stood at the end of a short hallway, one of which was open. In Hae could just make out the bathroom sink through this doorway in the dark. 

Creeping closer, she opened one door. A closet. The final door creaked open, and she peaked her head in, fumbling for the light switch. It looked like a makeshift studio, a series of mics strewn about the small room and a large, three-monitor computer at the far end facing away from the door in the windowless room. Random bear figurines lined the shelves in the room, as well as cd’s, awards and lots of books. Philosophy, history, language, fiction, biographies. This man liked to read. 

A cork board against the wall next to a large whiteboard caught her eye. Business cards, notes and other papers were pinned onto it. One caught her eye. “Charlie’s Place,” it read. A restaurant downtown. Another card caught her attention. “Kim Namjoon.” Ah, what is it you do, she thought, grabbing the card. Producer, lyricist and rapper. In Hae couldn’t see why a group of people would want to annihilate an artist. It couldn’t be that. She put the card in her phone case, planning to input the number later.

At that moment, her phone lit up.

“I heard a rumor and I need to meet with you. Auntie’s house. Three hours.” It was signed Agust D. Could he seriously just stick to one phone number and stop being so dramatic, In Hae mumbled. She turned to leave the room, confident she could find him again tomorrow. When she walked out of the room, she bumped into Namjoon’s chest.

“How long were you standing there,” she said, jumping back.

“Only just now.” He looked at the clothes on the couch. “Are you going to leave?”

She nodded. “Don’t worry. Like I said, they won’t be back tonight. I need you to think about why they might be after you.”

“How will I know how to contact you if I figure it out or if they come back? What should I do? I can’t just sit around.”

“You’ll figure out a way to contact me. I know a lot of things. I see a lot of things. And anyway,” she tapped her temple with her pointer finger twice, then reached up to his temple and tapped it twice with the same fingers. “You’re smart. They won’t get you that easy.”

Namjoon smiled nervously and unconvincingly, sighing. “Life is uncertainty anyway, I guess.”

In Hae smiled, despite herself, at this perspective. She started to walk for the door before thinking better of it and walking toward the window, opening it, and jumping out. For effect. She hated this option, the panic rising in her chest as the wind cut through her damp clothes, the rain falling with her as she flew past the ninth and eighth floors. 

She opened her arms, letting the folds of dark fabric hidden underneath catch against the wind beneath her as she used the makeshift gliders to slow her path. With one hand, she took a hook from her belt and, with expert timing, latched it to a window sill as it passed by. The force of the stop nearly pulled her arm out of its socket, but she held on, wincing.

She breathed out as her body got over the shock of the force. Sloppy, she chastised herself wordlessly. Using the length of thin, strong rope she had attached to the hook as part of the compact repelling device attached to her belt, she let herself down as many floors as she could reach, putting her feet on the nearest window sill and making sure she was on securely before remotely retracting the hook’s claws and bringing it down soundlessly toward her with a snap like a tape measurer. She repeated the process from her current location until she was safely on the ground. 

It was time to go to Agust’s.

Thanks for reading guys! Since this blog is pretty new, it’s gonna take some time to get things rolling on the fic. But if you like this, give me a follow and shoot me a message letting me know what you’d like to see more of :)

[shatteredskies042]

NaNo Day 22

Once the explosive left his hands, Michael dove for the grassy deck and covered his head. There was a pop, and a hissing filled the air. He recognized the scent, even before he rolled over and saw the white smoke and blazing flames: White phosphorus. He doubted war crimes were a concern of the men in white operating against them, and reasoned they had been trying to demo their dead friend’s body. Michael aimed his rifle as a figure bathed in white flames flailed about, firing several times into his body to put him out of his misery. Nobody deserved that death, even the men who had perpetrated it against the witches.

As other figures appeared, Michael engaged them and ended their burning misery. The forest fell quiet but for the quiet crackle of the chemical fires. He crouched, sweeping his eyes and the barrel of his rifle over the verdant battlefield, before he stepped back to the first body he had found. He knelt by the bloody man in white, inspecting him and his gear. His armor and gear was devoid of patches and markers other than a blood type indicator.

High quality weapons, Michael thought as he pulled the rifle from his stiff hands. He cleared the weapon and rendered it safe, looking over the Heckler and Koch G36 rifle, devoid of any kind of markings other than fire selectors. There usually were serial numbers stamped somewhere on the weapon, but he’d have to do a full disassembly to find it. His handgun was again, an unmarked Glock. Armor appeared to be standard SAPI plates, but with some kind of reflective paneling over the plates, perhaps a magical countermeasure. Searching the man’s pockets, he only found tools of the trade, ammunition, a knife, tools and aid kits. Michael shook his head and stood up, returning to Allyson with a sour look on his face.

“You okay?” the blonde asked first, a concerned look dominating her tired features.

“I’m fine,” he promised. “These guys are ghosts. Unmarked brass and ammunition, no personal items,” he shook his head, and looked at the witches, lowering his voice. “They knew what they were doing, and these guys are serious customers.”

“Their shooting wasn’t too good though,” Ally noted with a small smile, “they didn’t hit you, me, or any of the witches.”

“I was trying to keep them suppressed,” he agreed, but knew they could not rely on poor accuracy. “They all wore white outfits, same as what Samantha and the others saw. The only guys who wear white are either in snow, or doctors,” he added.

“Brides, too,” Ally added, smiling slightly before shaking her head. “Rani is dead set on this Ivory Tower group,” she stated. “Something goes bump in the night, she blames it on them.”

“There’s truth to some conspiracies,” Michael did offer in counter. He had been a part of a few of them, and with the new facet of the world he had been injected into, anything could be true.

Ally pursed her lips and shook her head, looking back at the witches. “Once our reinforcements arrive, let’s head home,” she said softly, “healing all these wounds took a toll on me.” For but a moment, the bulletproof mask she wore faltered, and it was plain to see the angel was in great pain.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Michael asked, suddenly concerned with her well being.

“I’m fine, I’m just not used to healing people in a situation like this in these numbers,” she admitted, the strong mask coming back onto her smooth face as she forced a smile. “Just don’t worry about me,” she implored him.

He would have to ask just how her healing worked, but that was another question for another time. “Is that your backup?” he asked, seeing a vehicle bounding towards them over the grass. Michael stepped around the angel, and interposed himself again between the witches. The vehicles were driving in a loose single stack, and he would not take any chances as he reloaded his rifle.

Ally put a phone to her ear, speaking indistinctly for a minute. “Michael, it’s them, it’s okay,” she told him, watching the soldier scantily relax. At least, she took relaxing his posture from aiming at the convoy to ready-low as relaxation. Before the others loaded up the witches, Ally watched Michael move from the convoy and back to the sides of Samantha and Carla. He spoke gently to them, her senses only picking up snippets of conversation.

Samantha called him a superhero, and that drew a shaken head from Michael. He wasn’t a superhero, he explained, they had fancy suits or miraculous powers. He only had training and the will to win, things that she could learn, he stressed to the little girl. It brought a smile to Ally’s lips, watching their interaction and just how he handled himself. She turned away to hide this fact, before she heard Michael approach her and stand at her side.

“Ready to go?” he asked the blonde.

By way of agreement, and after a moment to think and focus, Ally opened a portal home and followed her partner through it. They appeared in the living room, and Michael looked over at her for a moment.

“What will happen to them?” he asked, as the two tiredly walked back to the armory.

“I don’t think their whole coven got wiped out, and if their elders survived they’ll rebuild,” Ally said quietly as she took off her belt and secured her sidearm, then leaned on the table heavily. “I’ll keep tabs on them for you,” she promised as she watched him disarm.

“Thank you,” he said gently as he cleared his rifle and set it down on the bench. “I’ll clean it here in a little bit,” he promised, looking at the blonde, “I just want to take a shower and clear my head.”

The angel nodded slowly, looking at him as he took his vest off and set it down. “Yeah, I could use one too. After you clean, you should wander around the Institute a bit,” she urged, “learn the building.”

Michael nodded at her suggestion, then cocked his head to the doors of the armory and wandered back towards the bedrooms. “How does your healing work?” he asked the blonde, looking at her as they slowly moved to the main room.

Ally took a long breath, then looked at him, “it isn’t perfect,” she stated, “and I don’t fully understand it.” She held up her hand, looking at it for a moment, “what I’ve noticed is I can heal the damage, close wounds, ease pain. Think back to when I accidentally cut your ankle,” she directed as she looked at him: “I healed you, closed the wound and stopped the bleeding, right? But it still hurt for a bit and you have a mark there. I take that injury on myself, it isn’t physical, I didn’t get a cut on my ankle to match,” she stated as they climbed the stairs. “It’s on my soul. And it still hurts,” she explained. “Healing the witches, I don’t heal more than a couple people at a time, or someone badly hurt at a time,” Ally stated, stopping at the top and looking at him before going their separate ways. “It takes a toll,” the angel told him quietly. “I’m usually fine after a rest, but an injury like that will stick with me. I can deal with a lot,” she promised, “but it takes a toll and drags me down.”

Michael nodded slowly at her explanation, understanding but not at the same time. “Thank you for healing me,” he said quietly, thinking about how badly he’d been hurt when they first met, and again. Physically, at least. Her powers didn’t extend to wounds to his psyche or conscience.

“Don’t mention it,” Ally said with a soft smile that warmed the man across from her, “I’ll see you in a bit,” she wished, before heading for her room. Michael did the same, and they both did much of the same things.

Michael got into the rather spacious shower and leaned on the wall as the water rained down. His eyes closed as he processed the sounds and sights and smells from earlier, letting them free before he compartmentalized them again. The smell of burnt hair, burnt flesh, seeing the blackened and twisted bodies. Fire was always horrifying to him, such an inhuman way of death, uncaring and destroying all in it’s path.

Seeing people shot had lost an effect on him, something Michael wasn’t proud to admit. It was the principal way he had seen life taken, and taken life itself, and immersion in it had reduced his sensitivity. Maybe he had just grown cold, had to as a result of the violent world he lived in.

But what about those moments with Samantha, or the cop? Another part of his mind asked. Perhaps while he had grown cold in some areas, he was far from an angry, isolated person. Innocent people, only doing their best, and it was his job to protect them from threats they didn’t know how to deal with. It was his burden, but his duty. Maybe living with Allyson, working with her, would bring a warmth to his life and give him peace. Working with someone in public, and not sharing the same compartmentalized gallows humor of soldiers in life or death situations would do him good.

His thoughts drifted to the blonde, just wondering about her, and why she had helped him. She saw something in him that he did not see in himself, and he could not fathom why she felt the way she did. He knew she wasn’t telling the truth about something, but he was not about to call the blonde on it.

In due time, Michael got his act together, compartmentalized the horrors he had seen, and left the shower. He dressed, including his holster and trustworthy handgun, and headed back into the Institute. Ally was nowhere to be seen, so he headed to the kitchen to find something to drink. He would have to eat, but he would probably explore the Institute and clean the rifle he had used earlier. Looking through the fridge, he found a container of iced tea and some of lemonade. A thought from childhood struck, and a wide smile crossed his face He pulled both out and set them on a counter, getting a pitcher and a large spoon to stir. Michael first found a cup and tried the lemonade first, seeing how potent the blend was.

His first sip was pleasant, noting the tangy taste of the lemonade. He added a small bit to the larger pitcher, then filled the rest with the iced sweet tea and stirred. Satisfied, he tried his mix and smiled to himself, before returning all the ingredients to the fridge.

Michael took his glass to the armory, and pulled up a stool at the workstation he had left the rifle at. He found a cleaning kit and bore brushes around the room, and gathered everything neatly around his workspace. In several seconds, Michael had the rifle stripped and neatly arranged around the workspace. Cleaning weapons was a simple, manual task, but something he loved doing. He’d volunteered at the armory previously to get more experience, and had often thought about getting an armorer's certification.

It took him almost an hour, of slow, methodical cleaning before he was satisfied with his work. Once he was finished, he returned the rifle to its home among the racks and searched for a notepad. He found a pen and scribbled down the gear he wanted and needed: A SCAR assault rifle and accessories, as well as load-bearing vests and equipment that he had used prior and desired for familiarity in operating now. He took a long pull of the lemon-tea mix and looked around slowly as he contemplated the sweet and sour taste. Before he left the armory, he spotted Excalibur, resting in it’s sword form. He picked it up at the hilt, and thought deeply for a moment, closing his eyes and focusing. After about a minute of concentration, he held the form of his preferred SCAR assault rifle in his hands. It felt lighter than the real thing, but maybe he could use Excalibur as that as well. He would have to test it’s accuracy, against the real thing, but it would be worth experimenting with the weapon. Again, Michael thought about the weapon, and formed it down into a pen, tucking it into one of his pockets before heading out into the Institute.

Michael simply wandered then, looking around and getting to know the layout. It was rather easy to tell where Ally went typically, as it was clean and lit. He wandered into the training wing they had visited earlier, and found a stairwell that led him above the ground floor and the sparring wing, where he found more training equipment and dummies. Nothing too solid to use as a range, but if he really wanted to he could construct one outside.

Weights and other training equipment was present too, a nice revelation for him. A skylight lit the chamber, and behind closed doors seemed to be classrooms almost, but untouched for years. He continued wandering, until he entered a space he assumed was the central building: It was built like the sparring chamber, tiered balconies around a skylight that cast pools of light, but this room was much different. Water trickled and flowed, the bottom floor was a beautifully manicured garden with a pristine water feature. The smell of the water and plants put Michael at ease, letting him release some of the tension he had been holding in as a force of habit. Tables were arranged around the balcony he was on, and he concluded this had to be some kind of common area for the whole complex.

Michael peered through doors and windows, and it only added to his conclusions as he looked into meeting rooms and more space for entertainment. He would have to come back here at some point just to relax, read a book maybe. He wandered down another hallway, and came to a wide set of double doors. He pushed through curiously, and walked to a raining in awe.

He must have found the Institute’s library, easily the largest repository of books and knowledge he had ever seen. Five floors stuffed full of shelves loaded down with books. The upper floors were all connected by open spaces irregularly spaced on every floor, a safety measure that none could fall more than a story at a time. Small nooks were carved out of the rows upon rows of shelves for couches, chairs, benches, places to sit and reflect.

At the other end of the room, against the outer wall of the building, lay a wide stone hearth. A comfortable looking spread surrounded it, with a pair of wingback chairs faced the fireplace, a fire crackling behind a wrought iron fence. He wandered slowly into the area, towards the aura of comfort the small enclave presented. He saw a table beside one of the chairs, and a glass of dark liquid filling it.

As he approached further, he saw Allyson’s form, curled up in a chair and reading a thick leather bound book. Her eyes caught his staring, and she smiled brightly as she closed the book.

“I see you’ve found my favorite place in the Institute,” she noted with a smile. “Come on, take a seat,” she urged while she shifted in her own chair.

Michael drifted closer and to the other chair, plush and red, looking almost brand new where Allyson’s had a good bit of wear on hers. He settled down into the chair and found it cold and hard, despite the warmth of the room, almost like the chair had never been sat in before. He looked at the fire, then at the angel, who was curled up in her chair with both a regality and relaxation, like a queen on her comfortable throne.

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