#i got here from the chemical weapons interest and i liked that one better but. worth knowing abt this shit too

[quixoticanarchy]

WHAT do you mean human radiation experiments I shouldn't be surprised by anything of this nature anymore but I sure haven't seen those words in that order before wtf

Ahh yeah what I mean is uh as the US was developing the atomic bomb during WWII they decided they needed human experimental data to know what kind of health impacts the plutonium and uranium radiation exposure was having on their scientists, so they arranged for a bunch of people to be given plutonium to see what happened

And then after WWII they were still interested in health impacts of radiation but also in the impacts of radiological weapons (corollary to chemical and biological weapons) so they kept on testing the effects of radiation on people, by like.. spraying "tracer" clouds with radioactive particles in Minneapolis and St Louis, releasing radiation from the Hanford nuclear site, doing open air tests of radiological weapons, giving radioactive oatmeal to developmentally disabled kids, giving radioactive iron to pregnant patients, and other things I'm probably forgetting. All of this had analogues and collaborative projects with other countries too but the US examples are just the ones I know most details about. And all of this was done without informing people of what they were being exposed to ofc

(the books I've been reading on this are The Plutonium Files by Welsome and Behind the Fog by Martino-Taylor btw)

[ryescapades]

aubade · ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ°࿐ | kaiju no. 8

— there is you, and then there is him. as dawn breaks, love lays its claim.

fluff prompt: palm kisses <3 characters: hoshina soshiro x gn weapon specialist!reader

genre/warning: fluff, mutual pining, ooc hoshina prolly, indirect confession, takes place after the sagamihara operation's celebration party, narumi cameo bcs why not

a/n: specially made for my lovely moot @/spookuna <3 i'm a bit attached to this one ngl..

2.9k wc

they say it is a soldier's pride to be able to serve the country they've sworn their lives on. duty, honor and discipline; these are all necessary in order to bring out the best in oneself to protect what matters to them.

expectedly, it is no different in the jakdf. bound by duty, the officers, no matter what position or department they're in, are well aware of the obligation they have to adhere to. they hone their skills and take pride in their abilities to be the best version of themselves so as to protect the lives of the people from the onslaught of kaiju in any way they can.

however, as a defense force officer yourself, your pride lies in your weapons. specifically, the weapons that you made.

ever since you were a mere child, all you've ever known was the forging of heated metals and the whirring sound of machines. the you from years ago used to enjoy watching the process of weapon-making, both machinery and man-made alike. hence, it is only natural that you grew up pursuing a career born out of your interest; a weapon specialist in the jakdf.

you were one of their best, in fact. hardworking and dedicated, you were deserving enough to be stationed at the first division base, where all the cream of the crops reside. studying and researching together with your fellow engineers in the process of making kaiju-specialized arsenals have become as natural as eating your daily meals.

additionally, discussing about the weapons with the soldiers themselves for any improvements is something you'd grown to enjoy doing.

and unbeknownst to most of those around you, you might just have the slightest bit of favoritism towards one soldier in particular...

"how was it, the blaze round? or is the explosive one still better?" you inquire during one afternoon in the testing lab. the first division officer turns to you while holding the rifle containing said blazing cartridges, half of it already emptied after the shooting trial.

"it's working well, y/n-san! your idea of flaming bullets is really doing wonders, seriously. but i do think the design could be better though, for instance..." as he drones on about what upgrades you could add to the gun, you listen with rapt attention, jotting down new ideas on your notebook. after the testing session ends, you mull over your notes in the silence of the now-empty lab.

a curious voice, fused with a bit of bafflement then brings you out of your headspace that is previously filled with a bunch of chemicals, kaiju remains and mechanical parts.

"you're still doing tests on that fire gun-thingy?" you lift your head up to see captain narumi waltzing in, the usual air of confidence and nonchalance sticking to him like a second skin.

you perk up, throwing him a quick salute. "yep, as usual! still got a long way to go though. there's so many stuff i need to fix, especially the cartridge and the substance formula. and there's the barrel part too—"

narumi grimaces, "okay, okay, chill, y/n. i'm only here to pick up my weapon, not to hear you nerd out about your little experiment," he huffs, walking over to the corner of the lab where his bayonet case is kept. you only give a responding chuckle and a lighthearted apology.

being the nosy ass that he is, narumi peeks over your figure to glimpse at what you're working on. however, his magenta hues latch on to your hands. in all the years he's known you, narumi has only ever seen you with your gloves on but today, your hands are bare and free from the confine of those military-issued fabrics.

with the case now slung over his shoulder, he's about to interrogate you about the lines he'd just seen on your palms when your phone that was sitting on the desk rings, a familiar name flashing on the screen.

the captain clicks his tongue. "the heck does this asshole want from you?" he questions in annoyance, albeit while sliding the device to you all the same just as you ask him who's calling.

he takes note of the way your eyes light up when they land upon the name of the caller, a smile quirking up on your face as you feel your heart skipping a (few too many) beat. you immediately slide a finger across the screen to put the call on speaker so that you can still look over your findings and talk to him all the while.

right, speaking of favoritism...

"vice-captain hoshina?" you cheerily greet, and narumi forces himself to hold in a gag (spoiler: he fails) when the man on the other line speaks up, "hey there. you free right now?" internally, you almost punched yourself at how giddy you get after hearing the smooth and light baritone of hoshina's voice.

you send your captain a glare before shooing him out with a wave of your hand. gruntling under his breath, the bicolor-haired man rolls his eyes as he pushes the door on his way out. "damn lovebirds,"

you ignore his not-so vague comment, fully focused on the one you're currently in love speaking with. "no, not really. i was just testing out some new stuff. why?" you query.

"you've heard about the sagamihara operation, right? well, ya see... one of my blades broke while i was fightin' no. 8, and the other one is pretty scratched up. i'm afraid i'd have to get the spare ones you keep at the hq," hoshina explains, and your eyebrows raise in shock.

"what? i've only heard that the mission turned out quite the struggle in the end, but nothing about no. 8 showing up. are you okay?" hoshina finds himself to be a lucky man, for you're not there with him to see how wide he's smiling, his cheeks practically hurt from your expression of concern for him.

"i'm all good, don't worry, dear. and besides, i won't be taken down so easily like that, ya know? have some faith in me, yeah?" you blush slightly at the nickname and his teasing tone before letting out a small laugh. "sorry, sorry. i do have faith in you, vice-captain. you hold that 'strongest close-quarters combatant' title for a reason, no?" you muse, not even bothering to keep the sheer honesty from flowing out.

the grip on his own phone tightens, relishing in the subtle praise sneaking behind your words. throughout his years in the defense force, people have complimented him on his hand-to-hand skills, sure. more often so now that he's a high-ranking officer in the third division. but when it comes to you, it just feels... right. assuring, somehow.

hoshina chuckles breathily, "you're right. so, about my swords... should i go there to pick it up or will you be sending a courier for it?"

for a moment you contemplate, weighing over your decisions. on one side, you really don't have any other purpose to go all the way to tachikawa apart from delivering the weapon. plus, your schedule is not exactly flexible enough to be making such impromptu visits to another base.

on the other hand, going to tachikawa means you get to see him. and deliver the weapon, obviously. but the way you see it, meeting him is enough reason for you to confidently set your choice.

"actually... you know what? i'll be going to tachikawa myself,"

if it were anybody else, you would've reprimanded them for disregarding their duties so carelessly like this. why do something so pointlessly time-consuming when there's a more effective way of doing it? or something along the lines of 'you should stick true to your obligation as a defense force officer, something something, blah blah...'

but who could blame you, really. for hoshina soshiro, you would take the tiniest crumb of chance to see him standing in front your very eyes, only to remind yourself time and time again that he's the one your heart longs for.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

the hour clock strikes around six in the morning when you step foot onto the third division's turf, the sun still on its way to reach above the horizon for the incoming dawn.

you had taken some good five minutes of lecturing yourself about impulsively making a trip to another base, hands gripping tight on the steering wheel as you eventually came to terms with the fact that you were, indeed, driving by yourself from the ariake maritime base straight to tachikawa.

being the responsible officer that you are, you informed captain narumi of your little quote unquote adventure, which he only cackled at. you definitely did not bribe him with a new disc game of his choosing for his bs5 if he promised not tell on you to your superiors...

now, as you settle your belongings in the third division's library, you suddenly feel the nerves wrecking inside. it's quite a silly issue, really. it's not like this is the first time you're meeting hoshina. truth be told, you think you've seen more of him than captain ashiro, even though the latter is the more frequent visitor to the main headquarters out of the two.

you can't help it. everything about hoshina just makes you feel nervous, shy, but warm and happy all the same. your heart would beat a thousand miles per hour when he's near, heat rushing to every part of your body as if you had just burned yourself. well, maybe that's partly accurate, with how stupidly and ridiculously hot hoshina soshiro is—

a knock on the door interrupts your train of improper thoughts.

a figure stands at the huge opened entrance, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed against his— oh, sweet lord... he's wearing that compression shirt again. it takes every ounce of your willpower to not let your eyes stray anywhere below the turtleneck-line, lest you're in for a lifetime of teasing by the man.

you're a bit unlucky, it seems. because when you finally look at him, there is a knowing glint in his wine-tinted irises, as if he understands exactly what goes on in your mind, though he produces no word to address it.

"vice-captain, hi," you start, then proceed to mentally smack yourself because what the heck is that lame-ass greeting?

hoshina smiles, and your eyes greedily take in the sight of his curled up mouth. "hi yourself. how was the drive? i was worried for a second when ya said you're comin' here alone. you could've taken the shinkansen... or better yet, i could've gone there myself," thin eyebrows furrowing slightly, he approaches where you stand in the middle of the room where a metal table sits among others.

you laugh sheepishly, scratching gingerly on the skin of your cheek. "traffic was okay, thanks. and this is kind of an impulsive idea, really. i went straight to my car without thinking instead of going to the train station. plus, i wanted to give these to you myself," you say, mentioning to the leather sheaths sitting on the table.

hoshina tilts his head, giving you a confused smile, "why so? aren't they the same ol' blades like the ones i've been using before?" he asks, which causes your expression to brighten.

grabbing the weapons in your hands, you excitedly unsheathe the twin swords before displaying them in front of him. the blades are familiar, marked as his signature weapon SW-2033, gleaming sharp in the dim light of the library and shaped as similarly as his old ones.

"they are, but i added some touch ups to them too! i did some tweaking in the metal constitution of the blades to make them lighter, but more sturdy and tough to cut through harder things. they're supposedly more responsive to any change in your combat power too. the new composition has some kaiju remains in it, but you didn't hear that from me, okay?" you whisper the last part cheekily.

hoshina laughs, comfortably taking the swords when you hand them out to him and slowly turning them back and forth for observation, awestruck with your creation when suddenly a small detail catches his eyes. "what's this?" he mutters curiously, bringing the handle of the swords for a closer scrutiny.

you immediately straighten up at his attentiveness, your arms sliding behind your back and your fingers starting to play with the hem of your gloves from the jitters. "ah, that. well, i figured the swords would hold out much longer this time. so i thought it wouldn't hurt to do a little mark of ownership on each of them," you mumble, holding your breath while gauging his reaction all the same.

there, beside the jagged, razor-sharp edge of the dark steel blade, a small and intricate swirl of his first name is carved, along with a pressed mark of your own initials just above the izumo tech logo at the hilt.

there's a lump his throat, his slanted eyes widening in surprise.

bashfulness washes over you when he doesn't say anything, still staring at the weapons. "o-of course, i can remove my name if that's what you're concerned about! the hilt is easy to be swapped so—"

"no, they're perfect... thank you," he breathes.

your own eyes widen, gulping down the nervousness that is starting to dwindle down a bit, thankfully. you inwardly smile, relieved at how this is turning out. "think nothing of it! it's just something i thought to do in passing and it's not like there are many others in the defense force who specializes in swordsmanship." your hand reaches up to brush it off.

hoshina suddenly freezes when his eyes latch onto your gloved hand, the piece of stitched up cloth slightly nudged up from your earlier fidgeting to reveal a smidgen of your palm, causing you to tense slightly. you move to hide your hand from his view but your speed is no match against his; the man snatches it into his own, frowning deeply.

he puts aside the twin blades and takes a step towards you. one of his slender, much longer fingers slides under the dark fabric, exposing more and more of your palm to his amaranthine gaze at such a slow pace that it just makes the embarrassment to settle even deeper, simmering in the depth of your stomach and causing shivers to run down the length of your back.

eventually, the glove comes off and his eyes rove over the skin of your palm. it's soft to the touch, hoshina thinks. even so, he can't help but to stare at the lines upon lines of raised skin, ragged and roughly positioned on the surface. your hand is severely scarred.

you try to clench your hand into a fist and pull back but the swordsman seems persistent enough that you just relent, looking away to avoid his eyes. "it's bad, isn't it?" you smile, no mirth whatsoever.

play with knives, and you're bound to get nicked, you'd heard once.

his downturned expression remains. "it is. did you get them while refining my new swords?" he questions quietly into the air between you. your teeth catches on your bottom lip before you let out a low hum, "i always get them when i refine your swords.” the space around you grows tight, and the next thing that happens causes your chest to be even tighter.

hoshina moves closer into your space, your forehead almost knocking against him as he brings your palm to his lips. your mouth dries and feels like sandpaper as the airy, featherlight sensation continues to descend on various spots on your skin a few more times, your pulse quickening as he trails them to your wrist. he's careful with his fangs, but the sudden appearance of his tongue has you gasping slightly. it's wet, and it's warm against your skin. "w-what..." you stammer.

"it's beautiful. you're beautiful, y/n," hoshina murmurs, causing the sharp intake of your breath as the blood in your veins pumps in a frenzy.

he glances up to see your fluttering eyes and reddened cheeks. with those as the only indications he needs, he closes the distance to press his lips onto yours in a shy, tender kiss.

finally, your foolish little heart wants to scream. after months of lingering eye contacts, of shy touches, whispered praises and not-so-platonic gestures. after months of dancing around these intense, dizzying feelings.

the softness of your mouth gives to the pressure of his, dancing unhurriedly against each other as you savor the heat he emits. hoshina holds you close, your imperfectly perfect hand cradled protectively against his chest as his free hand comes up to steady a palm over your warm cheek.

he pulls back slowly to give you space and take a minute but you follow him, eyes still closed and lips chasing after his in an attempt to be connected once more. hoshina breathes out a chuckle and calls out for you, fondness seeping out from each syllable of your name that has you opening your eyes to peer at his own.

and here, as the first rays of sunlight pour through the windows of the library, casting a golden hue across the room and painting him in such an exquisite way it leaves the air rushing out of your lungs. the bell chimes somewhere in your mind, the musical vibrations synchronizing with the love you hold for the man in front of you.

somewhere in the back of your mind, you’ve never thought so beautifully of your hands ever before.

what i would give to be otp with hoshina like i'm his actual gf ... *cries in non fiction

©🅁🅈🄴🅂🄲🄰🄿🄰🄳🄴🅂. do not steal, translate or repost my work anywhere else !

[shiny-jr]

why are you in my apartment? (I)

Warning: Yandere. Gender-neutral reader.

Characters: Albedo, Bennett, Diluc, Kaeya, Razor,

Summary: Everything was supposed to be better when you got your own apartment to call home. So when you got home one day, why was was there some weird guy in your home?

Note: The guys are separate, for obvious reasons. Too many characters is too much chaos, makes things harder to write. Anyways, this idea has been in my drafts for a while. Happy to finally get it out. And yeah, it’s basically the same as the other two I made but the other two were for Twisted Wonderland (TWST). People seemed to really enjoy those though, so here I am with this genshin version. I was gonna add Venti but I figured if I ever do a part for Zhongli, I can just do Venti at the same time as I write his. Double gods. 

You worked and saved to be able to live in a spacious apartment in the downtown area. The buildings had decent security, the apartment itself was in a low-crime area, and there were a bunch of stores nearby for the basic necessities, not to mention you worked from home half the time and the other time work was just a few blocks away. Everything was perfect...! Until it wasn’t. Your seemingly perfect life was thrown completely off balance when you returned home and found your door unlocked.

Like any reasonable person, you were worried. Were you just forgetful this morning or had someone broken in...? Not wanting to call authorities right away and make a fool of yourself if you had forgotten to lock your door today, you carefully proceeded inside, with your phone gripped in hand and your makeshift key weapon in the other hand. Steadily you crept inside, looking left and right, your heart rate accelerating as you noticed a few things out of place. A remote controller not on the coffee table, a blanket you forgot to fold now folded neatly-- Just then, you heard a voice and footsteps, and when the stranger entered your line of vision, you screamed as they jumped in surprise and exclaimed,

“W-Wait!” 

One game. You downloaded one game, Genshin Impact, on a whim, and now this strange man claimed to hail from the nation of Mondstadt from that very game. It was incredibly difficult to believe, almost impossible, if it weren’t for their striking resemblance to the character and their sparkling vision on their person. What was more of a shock? They claimed to know you as the player. Of course before they knew nothing of your looks or true personality, but now here you were in your divine grace, the real deal right before them! You can be sure that they will take advantage of your kindness as you allowed them to stay until they could find a way to return home. But really, why want to go back when you were here?

Oh, but you want to know how it’s like living with the guys from Mondstadt, hm?

ALBEDO 

Chemicals...? Why did your apartment very vaguely smell like a science laboratory? Wait a moment... The place seemed cleaner, but things were missing. Books from the shelves, the local flower you placed in a vase, even the second remote to the television were just some of the things not where you left them. It’s as if someone had taken them. Which may explain the rustling you heard from the kitchen. Cautiously you crept closer, keeping your phone in one hand and your keys to use as a makeshift weapon in the other. 

Upon stepping inside, you saw a blonde stranger rummaging through your kitchen drawers. His hair reached to his neck and was partially tied back, his teal eyes seemed to grow brighter with interest upon pulling out any kind of mechanical or electrical kitchen appliance. On the table in front of him, he left books and the remote controller that was taken apart to the smallest buttons. 

The jingle of the keys in your hands alerted him to your presence. His teal eyes went from the items, immediately to you. However, he seemed to brighten up even more when his gaze landed on you. Immediately he took notice of how the sharp ends of your keys stuck out between your fingers, paired with how wary you appeared and how tightly you gripped the strange device in your other hand. The intruder could instantly piece together what was happening. 

Resting his hands on the table where you could see them, he spoke in a quiet voice as if not to startle you, “Ah, I see... Wait. There’s no need for that. I mean no harm. Perhaps I should explain.” 

So this is your residence. Do people of your world normally live in these packed complexes? 

What’s he often doing in the apartment? Well, a mix of things. Albedo is greatly intrigued by this world. There’s much more to learn and discover here. He’ll get the hang of things pretty quickly, and it’s fairly common for him to share his discoveries with you. 

What does he enjoy the most? Possibly going out to explore with you, finding someplace new and making paintings or sketches of you living normally in the environment. These are such sweet serene moments he wishes to capture and frame on the wall to admire over and over again. 

In the mornings, he makes lunch for you since he is a decent cook. Albedo lets you go to work, he doesn’t interfere because he knows it’s what sustains your way of living. In the mean time to fill the void of loneliness, he busies himself through various manners. Continuing research, exploring, even painting commissions and babysitting the kid downstairs. The last two are how he earns an income to pay you back for allowing him to stay with you. But even as he does all this, he grows disinterested until you are somehow involved. 

He has the strangest habit of just... staring. Watching your every move, exactly how he studies his subjects. Taking mental note of your choices, your words, your expressions, your habits, everything. Sometimes even creating certain scenarios or situations just to see how you’d react, just to pick apart your every move. Will you go forward with determination, or will you hesitate and squirm with discomfort under his intense gaze? 

If you ask if he missed you, he’ll answer honestly, yes. He’s polite but blunt at times, so of course he’ll be honest with you. It’s strange, he doesn’t quite miss anyone like this. Is that so embarrassing for you to hear? Hm, how interesting. You were the one that asked. 

Of course Albedo knows you. Previously, he only knew you as the player that controlled selected vision-wielders. The mystery intrigued him. 

How did this player control them? Were they a higher being invisible to the eye? Did they wield some magic that allowed them control? These were the first questions among the endless that followed, when you first captured his attention. And he wasn’t getting tired of you, for better or for worse. 

When he appeared in your apartment and eventually realized who’s house he was in, he immediately felt overwhelmed by everything around. In this small space that was yours, there were so many items, tools, and devices he had never seen in his entire life! There were so many new things that captured his interest, so many of your things–– he was so busy examining objects that he very nearly missed your presence at the door to the kitchen. When he looked up, there you were. The player, the very subject that puzzled him and kept him intrigued, who’s existence and control linked to his world seemed impossible. But it wasn’t impossible, because he’s felt your graceful presence in Tevyat, and how he feels it here as he stands feet in front of you. 

“Hm? You got an apology from that noisy neighbor? I see. You must be happy then... Did I say anything to them? Goodness, no. Why are you looking at me like that? I didn’t say a word to them. Their conversations bore me. I wouldn’t want to speak to them anyways. But if you’d like, I suppose I could have a word with them to silence them for good.” 

BENNETT 

Smoke...? The smell of smoke permeated throughout the apartment. Oh no–– did you accidentally leave the stove on? What something burning? In your rush to get to the kitchen, you completely missed the little details around your abode. One of the framed pictures with broken glass but placed exactly back where it used to be, some goggles forgotten on the coffee table, and one of the clay pots was cracked. However, all those details escaped you as you ran into the kitchen, dearly hoping that the kitchen wasn’t burnt down. 

When you stumbled in, you came to a screeching halt upon seeing a stranger with pale hair attempting to put out a fire in the microwave. His green eyes were wide with panic, which only seemed to worsen when his eyes landed on you. Torn between wanting to question why a stranger was in your home and stopping the fire, you ultimately chose to put out the fire.

As you were doing so, somehow keeping calm yourself, you heard a young man beside you speak in rapid sentences, so fast you struggled to comprehend. But by both the fear and guilt etched on his freckled face, you were able to deduce that he was apologizing. As the fire was dying out, you were able to make out the occasional word. Something about being lost and exploring when he accidentally started this fire and he’s so so sorry, player. Whatever that meant.

When the fire was finally out, he heaved a huge breath of relief. This time he spoke softer, “Wait, I-I’m so sorry, player...! Ah, what have I done...? I really didn’t mean to do this! This is all going so wrong...” 

Woah, you live here? This is so cool! He can’t believe he’s here, in the player’s home! Don’t worry, he’ll try his very hardest not to cause any more trouble!

What’s he up to? Lots of things actually. Although he tends to stay out of the apartment and work outside. Besides, working outside is what he’s best at! He has a lot to do in order to pay your back for your incredible kindness! That, and he doesn’t want damage your home somehow. 

What does he enjoy the most? Well, he never asks, but he feels so blessed whenever you willingly spend time with him outside the apartment. If you’re on a lunch break, he’ll want to explore parts of the city with you! Traveling is a must. If you take him for a small trip on the weekend, he’s over the moon. 

After Bennett failed tried to make amends by cooking for you on the first day, he’s been prohibited from even entering the kitchen unless you’re present. It’s a shame because he really want to make breakfast for you... But! He won’t be useless! He picks up odd jobs like pet-sitting, making deliveries, etc. There’s always an accident, whether he drop the food or the pet escapes the apartment, but he always powers through it when he remembers that all of his efforts are for you! He refuses to keep a cent of his earnings, and insists that you take every dollar. Please, he’s just trying to be useful to you. Is it not enough...? 

Bennett has this horrible habit of letting his insecurities take root as soon as one thing goes wrong, and you can imagine how many times that happens. He feels like he’s going to break down, even if it’s something like accidentally breaking a plate. He just has this huge fear that one day your patience will reach it’s limit and you’ll no longer want anything to do with him, you’ll realize that he really is the most unlucky boy in the world. It’s why he depends so much on your praise, even if it’s something kind you said offhandedly, he’ll treasure your words. 

Oh, he misses you so much! He wishes he could just go to work with you. He’d even be happy being the janitor at your workplace! But he doesn’t want you to think he’s being too clingy... And if he were there and you were to accidentally spill hot coffee on yourself, he wouldn’t stop believing it was his fault. 

To be honest, Bennett didn’t recognize you at first. But he felt... safe. Like nothing bad was gonna happen in this strange place. That’s when he picked up your photo in the frame, and he accidentally dropped it out of shock. Just seeing your face gave him a warm feeling, the same feeling he got whenever the player was controlling him. 

Being in your presence, gave him a particular comforting feeling. He could only describe it as the kind of feeling you get when everything seems like it’s gonna be alright! It’s what the poor pale haired guy desperately needs, a sense of peace where he isn’t constantly wondering what horrible unfortunate accident is coming next.

The adventurer was so confused when he appeared in your apartment. For a moment he thought he fell into a hole in the ground and ended up someplace completely different. But upon closer inspection, he could only piece together that he was in a place that belonged to you. Hurriedly he tried to clean up the glass from the frame he broke, accidentally cutting his finger in the process. He tentatively made his way around, reminding himself to be more careful. These were your things after all! That’s how he eventually ended up in the kitchen. Curiosity getting the better of him as he tapped a button on the microwave, and it began to spark and sputter. That’s when you came in, and boy was he surprised. He couldn’t stop stammering apologies, pleading for forgiveness. He’s so sorry, please believe him, he didn’t mean to cause this! He just wants to be of use to you...!

“Here! This is enough to cover groceries, right? Ah, this...? Don’t worry, I just fell while I was walking the neighbor’s dogs, that’s all! It’s not that bad! But I really appreciate you worrying about me, heh, I’ll be fine though, really! Umm, wait, you don’t have to bandage me up. You do so much for me already...! T-Thank you... You’re so nice to me. I’ll do better, so just don’t get sick of me, okay...?” 

DILUC

Roses...? Why did it smell like roses and the slightest hint of ash? Wait a moment... The stray books you left on the side had been neatly placed on the bookshelf, the paperwork you left on the coffee table has been organized, and there were fresh roses in the usually empty vase. These were some things you noticed that were off, but it was overall... cleaner. Someone had obviously entered your apartment. Before you could decide whether to proceed or not, an unfamiliar figure entered your field of vision from the hallway. 

A tall intimidating man with crimson red hair paused, both of you freezing in place as your eyes met his surprised red ones. Slowly he lifted his hand, possibly as if to show he meant no harm, but in response you only gripped your keys and phone tighter. Judging by the guy’s build, he could probably take you down instantly, but damn it you would go down fighting. 

You’d make sure the whole apartment complex heard the commotion and someone would surely come to your rescue. The redhaired man kept calm, but it was clear he was taken aback. When he finally made the move to take one step forward like he was approaching a cornered animal, you screamed and made a dash back for the door. Almost instantly a gloved hand covered your mouth, muffling your cries for help. He expertly maneuvered with one hand to separate your items from you and hold your wrists behind your back. 

You could feel the unnatural amount of warmth his body emitted as you struggled but could not escape his firm hold. Beside your ear, you heard his steady voice, “Wait. Hold still, and be quiet. I won’t hurt you, you have my word. I’m going to let go of you and we are going to have a little chat. Do you understand?” 

This is your home? He sees... It truly is best that he came along. There’s much to be done now. 

What could he possibly be doing? During the day, he remains at home, taking care of matters there. If you do spare time for him, he enjoys going to cozy cafes with you and taking simple walks. Even reading at home together, sounds like a wonderful evening. 

Diluc enjoys hearing about you. How your day went, what you want to do later, stories from your past, hopes for the future, really anything. Wait... where’d he get those credit cards from? NO! Don’t use them on the items you offhandedly mentioned wanting! 

Somehow, he got credit cards, and there is seemingly no limit on them. When you go on evening walks with him, it takes everything not to look at the shop windows. God forbid you do, because Diluc is watching. If you so much as look at an item for more than a milisecond, he’s buying it. He loves to spoil you with luxury items. And you’re just flabbergasted. Like the time he went to buy toilet paper and came back with Chanel and Gucci. How does he pay it all off? How is he not in debt? It’s a mystery. 

During the day he’ll go through your bills, help with paperwork, and he’s taken up the task of cooking. But at night is when he’s most active. He’s tried to keep it a secret, but you figured it out when you saw he wasn’t sleeping on the couch at midnight (he refuses to sleep near you, probably because even the sight of your bare ankle is scandalous to him. What is he, a Victorian maiden?) You like to refer to him as batman. Seriously? A filthy rich man fighting crime at night like some vigilante? Sounds like batman. What you don’t know is that he rids the street of scum for you. 

Diluc is extremely protective. Everyday he insists on walking you to and from work. He’s pretty weird(?) definitely stoic, possibly paranoid? Once he sat on the couch, watching the rain hit the windows as he murmured something about if only rain can wash away sins of the criminals lurking in the back alleyways of the city. Dude... you only asked if he wanted to join you on the balcony over coffee to watch the storm. 

Of course Diluc knew you. He worshipped you back in Tevyat. In his mind, you, the player, who controlled vision-wielders to fight off evil, was truly just and admirable. 

Now that he knows you as just... you, he still holds you in high regard but he’s come to view you a bit differently. Here, in your world, you are not a higher being like in Tevyat. Here, you cannot even defend yourself. You are truly so fragile and oblivious to all the dangers in the world. So, he swears to protect you, whether you want it or not. 

At first, he was extremely apprehensive when he appeared in the apartment. He had been fighting an abyss mage and now it was... quiet, with only the noise of a city, in this strange and unfamiliar place. Immediately he began to investigate his surroundings, looking out the window, examining items, and observing pictures. It wasn’t until he took a proper look at the photos, and stared at your face in the image, was he able to piece together where he was. Your face instantly made him feel at peace, much to his initial confusion. It was the same sense of peace he felt whenever you controlled his movements to walk along on the roads of Mondstadt. How was he here...? How was this possible? He certainly wasn’t angry but–– he never expected to meet you like this!

“Where are you going? Out...? I see. Wait, it will only take me a moment to get my coat. Hm...? It’s only a short walk? You know how dangerous it is, and the sun is setting. I will not take any risks. If it’s a private matter you’re tending to, I’ll wait outside if I have to. But for your own good, I will be accompanying you.

KAEYA 

Cologne...? Why did your apartment smell like cologne with traces of alcohol? Did a drunk from the club across the street somehow get into your home? You were beginning to doubt the idea with the lack of a mess. In fact, the place looked slightly better. There were blue flowers in the usually empty vase, sweet smelling candles had been lit, and the curtains on your balcony were open. At this rate, you were expecting some eligible bachelor to pop out of nowhere. Like on those stupid romantic TV shows where you marry someone you just met. Wait a damn minute... was that someone on your balcony? 

Whoever was on the balcony must’ve heard your arrival, because they turned around and reentered the living room space. It was a tall slim man with long thin dark blue hair tied in a small ponytail and one visible light purple eye with the other concealed by an eyepatch. He offered such a welcoming and charming smile, it almost made you feel out of place, like you had walked into his home.

Maybe you should’ve been comforted by the fact that the intruder was a seemingly suave man, but you were only unnerved as so many questions went through your head. It was clear to him that you were not letting your guard down, judging by your stance and how you warily eyed the front door as if considering the option of fleeing. That certainly wouldn’t be good. He didn’t want you to go running down the hall screaming bloody murder. 

So he lifted both his hands, a sign he meant no harm. And he spoke gently, “Woah there, there’s no need to be so nervous now. Wait, before you go and do anything rash, let me have a word with you. Won’t you?” 

This is yours? How quaint. Well, he’ll be a fine addition to the place, and make your residence a little more homey. 

What could he be doing in the apartment? Honestly, you really have no idea what he gets up to. He’s a bit of a mystery, and he seems to prefer keeping that air of enigma. Must be some kind of defense mechanism or something. But he goes out all the time. 

When you do spend time with him, most of the time he often coincidentally bumps into you on the street. From there, he invites you to outings. Teasing must be his hobby, because boy does he enjoy seeing you flustered or slowly getting on your nerves. Inviting you to a drink over a nice chat as he tells stories seems to be his favorite. 

But maybe his fun tormenting you is worth it... maybe. He wakes up early to cook you breakfast and lunch, as he mentally plans what restaurant he’ll take you to for dinner when you coincidentally bump into him in the evening. He pays off part of the rent, and obviously has money to spare. You just don’t know how he does it, and he won’t reveal his secrets no matter how many times you ask him. He’ll only smile knowingly, amused by your curiosity that he refuses to satisfy. Maybe it has to do with the fact that he knows a lot of people. Somehow he knows all the tenets and others around the block, more than you ever knew in your years living here. 

Kaeya got wasted once. Perhaps he got too carried away with trying the wine of this world, or he simply underestimated whatever he drank. The point is, you had to pick him up from the bar across the street and help him home, as he had to practically lean on you for support while he murmured something incomprehensible about you the entire time. This was when you saw a sliver of his true colors. He got so dramatic just because you were watching TV and not him. Yeah, he touched you often, usually just to embarrass you, but he’s never been this... clingy, it almost felt concerning with how bad it was. When he had his eyes closed and you got up for a drink, you swore you never saw him get up so fast. Nor had you ever seen such a look of fear in his eyes, which disappeared once he saw you. That’s probably one of the last times you’ll see him so obvious with his feelings for a long time. 

Don’t ask him if he missed you. Just don’t. He’ll take the question and turn it right back around, making you the flustered one. It completely backfires on you, and now you’ve got a smug calvary captain as he relishes in your precious reaction. What’s wrong? Did you really miss him that much~? 

Who’s he if he doesn’t at least know about you? As the player, a mysterious being, you fascinated him so. And now, the more he learns about you, the less he’s satisfied. 

There’s so much more he wishes to know, but he’s already learned everything possible about you. He’s learned your preferences, your dislikes, your habits, hobbies, and has even managed to know so much about you that at times he can accurately predict your decisions before you make them. And well, he doesn’t want to leave yet. Perhaps staying may be for the better...

When he appeared in your apartment, for a moment he believed he was in some strange dream. What an unusual place, it was unfamiliar but it felt so... comforting in an odd way. But, this was far too real just to be a dream, is what he quickly realized. This serenity he felt... it didn’t take him long at all to recognize it and make the connection. That’s when he began poking around, taking mental note of everything to paint a picture of what kind of person you truly were as he mentally prepared himself for your arrival. But despite all his efforts, no amount of time would be enough to prepare him. On the outside he was cool and relaxed, but on the inside he felt his heart palpitating. He could only hope that your godly powers didn’t extend to your home realm, and you didn’t hear his frantic heartbeat masked by his smooth voice. 

“I plan our evening ventures? Of course not! How can I foresee where you will be?... You believe I’m stalking you? Why I would never! Why would I go through such lengths just to see my roommate whom I already share a home with? You wound me so! Do you truly think so little of me? Is it so bad to want to share a meal with you?” 

RAZOR

Dirt...? Your apartment smelt of nature with its pine and grass scent. It almost smelled... funky. Like someone needed a deep soak in some sweet smelling herbal soaps. On the floor there were the slightest traces of dirt as if someone didn’t wipe their shoes at the front mat, and there were nearly-crushed daises in the vase on the table. Someone had obviously been here. Just then, your eyes noticed the moving figure over the balcony. It appeared as if they had been interested by the potted plants you grew, at least until they saw you.

You locked eyes with the stranger, freezing like a deer in the headlights. As he slowly stood up from his crouched position beside the flowers, you were able to notice his features. Watchful red eyes, long messy gray hair, a few scars with the most prominent being on his left cheek. The strange young man remained unsmiling and silent, only placing you further on edge. 

When he took one single step forward, you shifted the keys in your hands so the sharp ends pointed out between your fingers like brass knuckles. The unwelcome guest immediately took notice of this and took a step back to where he stood originally. That serious look on his face softened very slightly, now displaying hesitance. It seemed that he sensed your growing fear, and he was trying to ease it away. 

Slowly he held up his palms to show he had nothing. When he saw your shoulders lower as the thick tension vanished, he finally spoke. “It––It’s okay...! I’m good. Wait, uh... you player? I’m very happy to see!” 

Your home is... cozy. He likes it. But strange, filled with lots of new things. Also, he smells. He’s getting a bath immediately. 

What’s he up to at the apartment? Actually, he’s usually not even at home unless you’re there. There aren’t any forests for miles, but there is a humongous park a couple of blocks away with lots of wilderness. That seems to be his preferred place to spend time when you’re at work. 

What does he enjoy? Picnics at the park, showing you all the best spots he’s found to nap in the sun, even locations where he can forage fresh ingredients. Razor always looks so proud when he can show you what he loves, that you don’t have to heart to say no when he asks to stay a bit longer here. 

Razor always makes sure to wake you up early, he’s like your personal alarm clock as he pokes your cheek to wake you up. He cooks your lunch and breakfast too. He’s decent at it but when he tries to make it cute like in those videos he saw on your phone, it looks really messy in the end. Once you’re away though, Razor has to go out. If he stays cooped up in your apartment for too long, he starts feeling lonely, abandoned even. Your home is filled with your scent, he just can’t help but think about you. It’s why he always goes out, to distract himself or else his patience may snap and he may seek you out at your workplace for himself. 

The concept of paying to live in this space, paying for food, paying for water, paying for something called AC, and all these other things he didn’t initially know about, confuse him. It sounds overwhelming, and like it costs a lot. So he tries to help. He’s very good at pet-sitting, specifically for dogs. Other times he’ll forage as much as he can from the park and gardens, so you won’t have to spend on groceries. He makes a good amount of cash on selling rare mushrooms and other finds to collectors. Razor can’t help but be proud when he presents you with his earnings and finds. 

You don’t even need to ask Razor if he missed you. You know he does, and he makes it very clear that he did. It’s as if he senses your arrival when you’re down the hallway. He rushes to the door, ready to throw it open and greet you. He’s immediately clinging to you, the feeling of abandonment no longer there... for now. 

Razor is very in tune with his surroundings, it’s why he felt very close to you when you were simply the player to him. When you were an entity, some mystic being in Tevyat, without your own permeant vessel. 

At first it frightened him, being controlled and all. But after, he realized maybe it wasn’t so bad... You guide him in foraging good and exploring land, it’s actually peaceful at times when there’s no battling involved. And even when he must battle, he’s not afraid. He feels you guiding his movements, helping him emerge victorious and survive another day. 

When he appears in your apartment for the first time, it’s a lot like when you first controlled him. He was afraid, scared of the unknown. But after a few moments... he settled down. He felt at peace, he couldn’t explain why. He was still confused. Where was he? What was going on? Why was this happening? This scent in the air somehow felt... familiar. It instilled him with a sense of calm that he felt before. It took some time, and he made a bit of a mess around the apartment, but he figured it out. Razor was shocked, still in disbelief that he was standing in the player’s home! Yes, he was still confused, but he decided not the question it. He would continue to be good, he’ll try his very best! Because the last thing he wants is it to be abandoned by you.

“See! See? Found this all on my own. This, all yours. Money, food, all yours, even me! And these flowers I found, are pretty like you...! And this shiny necklace! Hm...? Where did I get necklace? Uh, found it! Yes. These are yours. A gift. Do you need more...? No...? This is okay? This means I did good, right...?”

As a whole…

So, you’ve gotten used to life with your new roommate. Still, you can’t help but wonder how much process they’ve made to find a way home. But there’s no real need to worry about that. They’ve discovered you, the player. They’ve settled in nicely, and become an essential part of your life. Surely they can stay, can they not? Perhaps the universe brought them here for a reason, it was fate that led this happy accident to occur. You aren’t really considering turning them away, are you? 

[nicherayy]

Yandere La Squadra x Fem! Reader OUTLAST AU

previous chapter: preview

next chapter: chapter two

Chapter one

TW: a lot of blood, murder, violence, dr*gs (just sleeping gas actually), cursing, c*nnibalism

MINORS DNI

Enjoy

The loud siren drowned out painful screams of doctors. Shabby walls were smeared with blood, as you ran past you could see strange symbols and phrases, but you didn’t care what it could mean. Although the only thing you were interested in was running away from that inhuman ting that was chasing you. Your breathing was beginning to hitch, but you continued to run down those dimly lit corridors not wanting to meet whatever was running after you. You tried not to think about those people lying on the floor with their stomachs cut open or limbs missing, and the smell of fresh blood made you want to vomit. You cursed your decision and this fucking interview. If only you had listened to your instincts and not agreed to go to this asylum.. Mount Massive Asylum, a place you will hate with all your heart for the rest of your life. If you survive, of course.

The most important is to avoid running into another hostile creature like that one behind you. You were never good with martial arts, either with weapons. Maybe, just maybe you will find another sane person, and if you’ll be lucky enough this person will have gun or something. Or better.. Police! Yes! Police or FBI have definitely have been notified of this incident. You just have to wait until they arrive, they’ll definitely find you. They’ll help you. They’ll save you. Until then, you’re going to run for your life. Just another turn of the corridor and no… dead end. The thing you prayed would not happen. You have nowhere to run now. Tears appeared on your eyes and ears began to ring from this sirens. You were terrified for your your life, terribly exhausted. At some point you thought it wold be better to just let this beast kill you, preferably quickly, so that you wouldn’t suffer that much. You heard this thing approaching you closer and closer. It WILL find you. The last hope is to hide in the locket that was next to you. Is this a locker of one of the staff members? You couldn’t care less, you got a chance to survive. Maybe it won’t guess where you hid.

You covered your mouth with a hand so as not to let out this ragged breath of yours.

“LIARS”, the creature were screaming while looking for you “YOU LIED TO US”.

Now through a small slit you could see this.. thing. It looked like a man, maybe even once was one. It’s hair almost torn from the scalp. The skin was pale, almost white, purple diverging veins could be seen really well. You just closed your eyes and tried not to breathe as much as possible. As long as it doesn’t find you, as long as it forgets about you or finds another victim. Your thoughts were interrupted by a dull thump. Did it fall? You look though the slid again. It.. really fell, from the hit on the head. Must be a hard one, but just hoped that this creature was dead, or at least off for a while. A strange man was standing next to his body. Did he do it? Is he a doctor here? Unlikely. His tall figure mesmerised you, he was more than two meters tall. Before you could even think about whether you should show yourself to him, you hear his deep and surprisingly calm voice.

“I know you’re here”. He turns his head and looks at the locker in which you were hiding. Red glowing eyes, dark sclera. You’ve seen him before. No, it couldn’t be. You already want to run out of this locker when you smell some kind of chemical. And you succumbed to fear and fatigue, whatever it was, and fell into a deep sleep. “You’re interesting” the last thing you could hear.

Two hours before..

The asylum gates have opened to you. Having parked the car, you headed to the central entrance, repeating you questions, before a tall man stopped you. Name “Tiziano” was written on his badge. “Excuse me, are you this interview girl?” He asked you with noticeable disinterest.

“I suppose yes, I am” You extend your hand to give a handshake but this bastard, without even paying attention, immediately goes in the other direction.

“Follow me… oh my god this stupid red press..” And you obeyed without even telling anything. What’s wrong with this guy?

The lobby oh the main building was surprisingly spacious and well-lit. You wouldn’t even guess that this place is an asylum for criminals. The man at the reception looked at you with confusion, you don’t often can see a woman here. Well, women used to work here, but for some reason they were all fired. Maybe you could ask the reason during an interview. You thought you would see dirt in the corridors and hear screams of madmen, but it didn’t happen. Everything was sterile and there was no sound except doctor’s chatting and dull sounds of some machine, perhaps an air conditioner?

“Ah miss Y/N L/N. Just in time! I got it from here, Tiziano, thank you again” a weird green-haired man in a lab coat approached you. After this words the man.. Tiziano quickly stepped into one of the offices.

“My name’s Cioccolata, I’ll be answering all your questions today” with a contempt smile he leads you into a room at the end of a corridor. The room was well equipped with various electronic devices that you didn’t know the purpose of, although it was most likely to be a patient equipment. You looked around this place for so long that you didn’t even noticed Cioccalata’s intense gaze.

“Shall we begin?” He acknowledged you of his presence.

“Oh, sure, yes, my apologies” You replied quickly, afraid to annoy him. You didn’t know what, but you were very stressed by this person, but maybe it’s just the excitement that affects you. Maybe you could even get an exclusive material! Your company will definitely get rid of all debts. And it’s better if your boss will raise your salary. Wonderful thoughts.

“So, tell me about you work, are you a doctor?” Opening your notebook, you sit in the black leather chair opposite the man.

“Well I-” he doesn’t have time to finish when someone from the staff bursts into the room “Doctor Cioccolata, we require you help immediately” he sounds nervous, even scared.

Cioccolata immediately changes his expression. From calm and professional, he becomes serious with a stern look. You didn’t even think that people can change their emotions so quickly.

“Be right away” he already starting to leave the room when he turns to you “I’ll be quick, you just wait here” after this phrase he closes the door behind him.

You left all alone. Even voices from other doctors disappeared from corridors. Something bad happened? Is this the right time? But if something really happened, it would be a great story for your newspaper. Y/N L/N solved the mystery of the Mount Massive asylum! You would be famous after this article, maybe you’ll be offered a job in a better company.

Worst decision of your life, leave this room. And you don’t even expect how much it’ll change your life.

Now corridors were completely empty, all people seem to have died out. What could have happened that they all disappeared somewhere. Time for investigation. But as you walked around the entire building you still couldn’t figure out where are everyone, everything looked surprisingly normal. You were already thinking that this was a stupid idea, and should just go back to Cioccolata’s office when you heard a loud siren through the speakers on the walls. What is it? A fire? What the fuck. You ran to the stairs that would lead to the main entrance. But as you were near it you saw a big man twisting a doctor’s neck. You froze in fear, being afraid that you’ll be next.

This man.. this was a patient. He turned to you, read eyes with dark sclera. He was scary as hell, his white hair stuck to his forehead because of dried blood on him. You couldn’t look at him anymore, you quickly turned and ran back down the stairs without turning back. The siren was bothering you more and more and interfering your thoughts, you just didn’t know where to run, but it didn’t matter.Maybe if you could run to another part of asylum you can call someone for help. Another mistake.

This wing of Mount Massive met you with blood on the floor and dead staff laying everywhere. Your eyes widened in shock and fear, legs shaking. It could be. It’s just a really realistic nightmare, you’re going to wake up soon. But you didn’t wake up. As you were standing there terrified you saw a creature, that was eating a meat.. no.. this was one of the doctors, you squeaked stepping back. But this was too late, it already heard you. You couldn’t stand here any longer, you need to get the fuck out of this place.

[adamwatchesmovies]

Cloned: The Recreator Chronicles (2012)

With a title like Cloned: The Recreator Chronicles, you know you’re in for an ordeal when you sit down to watch this one. This movie walks into the room like it’s got the next big idea; like it radiates so much creativity you should feel lucky to bask in its glow. It needs a serious reality check. There’s nothing original or interesting in this film's entire running time.

Craig (Alexander Nifong), his girlfriend Tracy (Stella Maeve) and his best friend Derek (J. Mallory McCree) are camping when they discover a cabin they think is abandonned. Before long, they meet duplicates of themselves. With these clones claiming they’re smarter, stronger, and better in every way, should the originals be worried?

What’s worse than a lousy performer in a key role? A lousy performer in dual roles. J. Mallory McCree, Alexander Nifong and Stella Maeve all come off quite badly in this film. In their defense, I think it had more to do with writer/director Gregory Orr than anything else. This script had to be a first draft. It’s the only way to excuse how bad the science is. We learn the clones were created when the genetic material of our heroes got mixed with some chemicals in the sewers beneath the cabin after it was struck by lightning. The clones are literally made from shit and shower water. Orr probably doesn’t want us to think about it too much because the mystery of where the duplicates came from is completely irrelevant. What matters is that Craig 1 is worried Craig 2 will steal Tracy away, which would be a bad thing because the clones are the anti-matter universe version of these characters. Craig 1 lacks confidence. Craig 2 takes charge. Derek is dopey. Derek 2 is so smart it’s “scary”. Tracy is a bit of a harpy, which makes her doppelganger the ideal girlfriend. If Craig 1 and Craig 2 could just swap girlfriends, everyone would be happy! or they would if Craig 2 wasn't evil.

You can feel this picture struggle and fail to make things happen until it gives up any attempt at elegance. By the end, people move from here to there without logic - anything to keep the plot moving. The “will he, won’t he?” couple-swapping question can only sustain so much running time. To compensate, much of the running time is dedicated to the original Craig and Tracy as they explore the ruined nuclear science lab. What do nuclear weapons have to do with creating full-grown adults with memories and roots in their hair? Shut up, that’s what.

The only time Cloned: The Recreator Chronicles becomes interesting is when its intelligence drops down to absolute zero. At one point, Derek attempts to hitchhike home. The first car he sees has a set of twins in it. He understandably freaks out and doesn’t go with them. The implication is that there are evil clones all over this area… but we soon learn that isn’t the case. It just means that Derek has the worst luck in the world. He could’ve been headed towards home and safety but he bumped into two unnerving-looking twins so now he’s going back towards danger. There’s a confrontation between Tracy and her duplicate that leads to a twist so obvious anyone with half a brain could figure it out.

A post-credit slide warns us that a sequel is planned. “To Be Continued”. Don’t make me laugh. Unless the director’s got blackmail photos handy, another one of these is not happening. I don’t even know what the plot would be. The story’s over on all counts!

You’ve seen scarier things staring at the mirror than in every second of Cloned: The Recreator Chronicles combined. The plot is obvious, the characters flat and the performances lousy. I’d call the special effects disappointing too but the split screens are well done - a shocker considering how unconvincing the lightning is. I watched it as part of a double bill with Us - another horror film about evil twins - but you don’t need to see the concept done well to appreciate Jordan Peele’s 2019 effort. I can’t think of any reason why anyone should see Cloned: The Recreator Chronicles. (October 15, 2021)

[shadowsong26fic]

Coming Attractions!

Yes, I'm aware it's Tuesday not Monday but shhhhh XD

Just a quick one this month. Not even going to split it up by fandom as I usually do, just kinda blitz through.

So I ended up...essentially taking January off from writing, apart from a scattered few sentences here and there. Which on the one hand was probably good for me but on the other hand I'm behind on projects lol. Ah well.

Priorities for this month: 1. SWBB I'm picking up the project I had to step away from last year. Anakin was not found at age nine and never became a Jedi; we're handwaving that TPM ended roughly the same way anyway because Padme and Obi-Wan are very good at what they do and one of the other pilots got lucky on the droid control ship. Fast-forward to like a year and a half/two years into the Clone Wars, Ahsoka ends up briefly stranded on a planet that's neutral mostly because it's a black market hub. They click pretty quickly, hang out for a while, stumble into a Separatist plot to test a chemical weapon and blame a limnic eruption for the deaths, and Deal With It. Hondo and Bo-Katan are briefly involved because I said so XD 2. P&J We're getting to the part where Ari actually finds stuff out, lol. Getting to Europe and talking with other researchers, etc. There's some interesting stuff in Marseille, and Calais is important. And Ari and Phil continue to be cute in the background. 3. The Other Battlestar Baltar ends up on Pegasus; there's a bunch of stuff built up around the two OCs who fill the plotholes he left behind...I need to get more text down in general, lol. And also figure out how I want to structure it? Like...I do need to establish the new people (including a few on Pegasus, like the senior medical officer, a marine officer, there will also be a Four who gets pulled from the civilian fleet...) and also clarify why Baltar ends up in a different position (and why Helo doesn't because he and Athena still need to meet). And it would probably make the most sense to just go linearly and handle all the miniseries exposition in order. But then again would that actually be Interesting; or would it be better to pick up later and jump back and forth in time...yeah, you see my problem lol. 4. Acheron Javert Groundhog Day fic; looping the last 36ish hours of his life. (from right before he heads to the barricade to his death). 5. Maybe get back into Precipice or write some origfic if I have time/brain.

Longer-range projects: 1. Percussive Maintenance is still hanging out in my head, so I'm tentatively planning on that for GBB (aka the one where the at least two concussions Sam gets during Downloaded unlock Enough of his memories) 2. Or maybe I'll jump back to The Blood of Angry Men, we'll see. (aka a Zarek character study; looking back on his life (and the allies/friends/tools that he's led to their deaths) from the night before his execution) 3. What I'm definitely not doing is any of the crossovers floating around in my head; either the Star Wars ones or the WoT ones. (the one I talked about the other night; and a fusion is actually sort of building in my head because of course it is. Mostly because of the Kara-as-Mat thing I pinged onto the other night; but also Baltar would be an interesting Logain; possibly Zarek as Taim? I think I'd leave Rand as Rand and just fill in the roles around him. Lee also lines up really well with Perrin...and since this would derail pretty early on I feel a little more Flexible about love interests/etc. lol. For reasons of Tuon, Moiraine, and Lan, mostly. Also Faile. Also I'd still want Caprica as a sul'dam, I think, but Logain doesn't have a canon love interest IIRC sooooo that's easier to sort out XD ...although now that I think about it, Athena as Nynaeve and Helo as Lan could work...) 4. Incinctus/other Castlevania things. 5. I'm doing pod_together again once signups open. I need to refine my fandoms list, haha. Not that I haven't had interesting times the last couple years, but it'd be nice to get matched based on something that Isn't a very secondary/tertiary fandom for me again. 6. AtLA may come floating back into my head enough to pick up some of the projects I wandered away from there, we'll see.

Not writing, strictly speaking, but there's some admin/modding stuff for this year's GBB that I should get a move on, especially since the event is moving to May-October, plus helping out with SWBB the way I do every year.

...yeah, that's pretty much where things stand. Hopefully I'll hit a nice groove this month!

What about you guys, what are you working on?

[the-consortium]

The small women looked between the both of them. "I've got plenty of films." She assured and peaked back thriving the doorway. The ice-cream was gonna melt by the time she'd convinced them.

"So, uh, is that a no on the movie and cuddles cause if so, I gotta put some stuff away."

She turned back to the two of them. "Also, I've read about your found on from a collection of writings made by a warp being... it's hard to explain. But I'm not here for your boss, I don't find him very interesting."

She scuffed one socked foot on the floor and looked around the room they were in.

"A warp creature?!" Arrian shoulders Saqqara aside, weapons raised and visibly struggling to maintain control. His teeth bared, his gaze flits back and forth between the woman and Saqqara. "One … of your … Monsters … spying on us …" his pronunciation is clearly slurred again by the Nails and Saqqara hisses a Colchisian curse as he has to divide his attention again. "No, damn it! That was definitely not one of my demons! If one of them does uncontrolled things, we'll find out very quickly and bloodily!"

Noticing the subtle change that precedes when the chemical imbalance in Arrian's brain tilts back towards more awareness, he says to the stranger, "You better have extremely reassuring things with you that don't threaten the safety of the Consortium, herald treachery or keep the Chief Apothecary from doing his job!"

At his shoulder, Arrian mumbles, "Not finding him interesting probably counts as well. He's damn vain!"

Saqqara nods slightly, but keeps his attention on the stranger. "So … Movie?"

Arrian blinks slow lizard-like, "You're considering it?" - "Of course. The Chief Apothecary and Oleander are watching this ancient Terran tale about a doctor and his adventures. We should do something that suits our interests, too!"

[seavoice]

How would you feel about a Leo Valdez and Hazel power swap, or more specifically any hcs about it?

i do not know when this ask got sent but i found it and HEY this is so interesting!!!

firstly does their backstory stay the same? like shifting around the logistics of what happened with their parents and all, but ultimately same beats? i'm going to say yes and work from there!

okay so i have two scenarios for this--one is the obvious power swap due to parentage swap and the other is...what if they had each other's powers BUT in a way that was in line with their canon parents!!

first scenario i think their attitudes to their power absolutely changes based on how they interact with their new parents...leo as a son of hades is in soooo many ways an inverse of nico -- they seem to have the same sort of origin story TM but the way they grapple with loss and isolation is so different. i do think in this scenario i'm more interested in how the character dynamics shift rather than the powers themselves. what is leo and jason's relationship with the history of their fathers'? leo is the consequence of a broken oath here, they could have easily been the children of the great prophecy and not realized it if percy hadn't taken it on. leo and nico as brothers how would THAT look you know? things like that

i think it's much the same with hazel, but if she's dislocated in time as a child of vulcan that honestly puts an interesting spin on her relationship with frank (let's not imagine it romantic though. as a treat) as a son of mars. also percy IS close with hazel unlike with leo; does the wound of beckendorf ache more as he grows to know hazel better? and what about her relationship with nico? he still has to bring her out - she is aware of asphodel after all - but does that change how nico and hazel view each other? make their relationship easier because there are no ghosts they are competing with? make it less close because they are not siblings? i think this version of the story is less about how leo and hazel navigate their powers and becomes more about dynamics

but now the second scenario the FUN SCENARIO ---- shoving a power swap AROUND canon...i think it has hilarious potential mainly because. well you know that tweet about that one friend who's cursed and is bringing the vibe down? that is BOTH of them in canon and that is still absolutely both of them here.

leo being able to conjure up metals and gems to work with slaps incredibly as a concept. he's a very savvy person i reckon once he gets over the initial fear/disgust/guilt of his ability he would definitely throw himself into learning all he can about it. making pieces of jewelry for his friends, immersing himself in chemical and materials engineering little gifts, weapons retrieval etc -- i think if he gets the hecate powers too that's an IMMEDIATE bonding point with jo at the waystation. magical metalworking!

as for hazel...here's very it gets REALLY cool to play around our sandbox. to storm or fire the world must fall -- and SHE KILLS GAEA WITH FIRE THE FIRST TIME AROUND??? i think as much as she is frightened of her power in the beginning when she grows into it she REALLY grows into it; it's a sourcce of pride for her--she killed gaea once! . also if she had hecate's powers instead of leo -- magical fire powers sound like a swell, swell deal. i imagine her fire to have a reddish-purple hue, like straight from the fields of punishment. it's hella cool

(also frank still gives her his stick to keep safe and it's ESPECIALLY touching to her because it's early on and she feels she's finally got someone who trusts her powers...maybe even before herself.)

[dragonologist-writings]

Title: The Best of the Worst Fandom: The Outer Worlds Rating: G Status: One-Shot Characters: The Captain, Ellie Fenhill Additional Notes: Friendship, Fluff, Character Study Word Count: 1.2k Summary:

It was sentimental crap, the kind of stuff a kid with his head full of idealism and revolution and dime-a-dozen adventure serials would come up with. And yet once Felix said the damn thing, she couldn’t get it out of her head. Ellie doesn't really buy into the 'found family' crap. That doesn't mean she doesn't have one.

read below or here on AO3

Like a family, Felix said. The naïve little shit.

It was sentimental crap, the kind of stuff a kid with his head full of idealism and revolution and dime-a-dozen adventure serials would come up with. Ellie knew better than that. They weren’t a family, they were a crew. Sure, they had to trust each other, to an extent, to keep from falling apart, but family was pushing it. Besides, Ellie already had one of those. She had no interest in putting herself through that kind of shit again. She was perfectly happy being cynical and independent and far, far away from anything resembling the kind of suffocation and injury those sorts of attachment inevitably brought on.

And yet once Felix said the damn thing, she couldn’t get it out of her head. The words echoed through her thoughts for days, lingering in her mind the way expired saltuna lingered on the tongue.

Like a family, a treacherous little voice whispered when she found that Parvati had calibrated her weapons and repaired her armor without being asked. Like a family, it whispered when she and Nyoka spent an afternoon drinking Zero Gee cocktails and practicing their headshots on a dummy in the cargo bay. Like a family, when she pestered Max into a fit of irritation, like a family when Felix did the same to her.

That’s not what they were, Ellie insisted fiercely, desperately to herself. They were people held together by a ship and a paycheck. They didn’t care. She didn’t care. She couldn’t afford to. She already had debts racking up, each loan and gesture and unrequested favor tallied in her head so she could ensure that at the end of the day she was beholden to nobody but herself. It was a practice Ellie had spent years perfecting, and it had never caused her the kind of conflict she was feeling now.

She placed the blame squarely upon the shoulders of Imogen March, of course. Felix may have voiced the idea, but Captain Imogen was undoubtedly the source.

“You can’t live your life thinking the worst of everyone,” the Captain had told Ellie once. That was the sort of thing Imogen said with utmost sincerity, despite the number of times she’d been shot at and lied to and swindled. That was the sort of thing she believed.

And it was the sort of thing that would get her killed one of these days. Despite her occasional uncanny perceptiveness, the Captain was almost painfully naïve in trusting others. She was free to make her own decisions, of course, and Ellie was perfectly happy to mind her own business while Imogen chased her pretty daydreams. Let the Captain make promises to the other crewmates and bond with the AI and put all her faith in a literal mad scientist; it simply wasn’t Ellie’s business.

But for a woman who could be so smart when she chose, some things just didn’t make sense, and eventually Ellie had to ask.

“Why put yourself through all this?”

The question took Imogen by surprise. She looked up from the purpleberry soda she’d been nursing at the kitchen table, brow furrowed. “I know it ain’t the best flavor in the universe, but I gotta drink something.”

Ellie snorted and waved her hand. “Not the purpleberry, although that shit’s more likely to kill you than a mantisaur. I mean…Phineas has got you running to steal dangerous chemicals, right from under the Board’s noses, in Byzantium. Byzantium. Nothing good happens there, I promise you that.”

Imogen opened her mouth to answer, and Ellie hurried to add, “And I know you think you’re saving the colony and your folks on the Hope and all that. But the Board could probably do it just as well, with a bigger paycheck and less chance of getting yourself killed.”

After a moment’s consideration, Imogen sighed and said, “I just think it’s the right thing to do. There’s a lot in Halcyon that needs fixin’, Ellie, I admit that. And the Board ain’t competent enough to fix a vending machine. So I’m gonna try my hand at it and trust that at least I can’t do worse than them.”

“What, just ‘cause it’s broken, it’s now your job to make it all better?” Ellie challenged, but of course she knew the answer was yes. It was Imogen’s job to fix everything, apparently, from broken machinery to broken people to broken systems of government. But at the end of the day she was still just a person, with ideals bigger than her own common sense, who saw trustworthiness where she really, really shouldn’t.

Ellie sighed and rubbed her temple, trying to chase the thoughts away. “Look, Cap, I know you wanna save the day. But don’t forget to look out for yourself. No one else out here is going to.”

An unexpected smile crept onto Imogen’s face as she studied Ellie, and Ellie didn’t like the look that crossed her face one bit. She frowned on instinct. “What?”

“Nothin’,” Imogen said innocently. “I just didn’t know you cared so much.”

Ellie scowled and threw a mock apple at her, which Imogen caught with a laugh. “And there you go again," Ellie scolded. "You realize you’re besmirching a reputation I’ve worked very hard to build?”

“Oh, don’t worry. It’ll be our little secret,” Imogen replied as she bit into the apple. But she still had that look, and it was infuriating even though it shouldn’t be, because Ellie knew that Imogen always saw the best in everything and everybody, in rickety old spaceships and run-down robots and morally questionable scientists and cynical mercenaries-

And maybe that was the part that Ellie hated the most: the fact that she didn’t actually hate being looked at that way. The idea that she might actually kind of like it, the way she might actually like the Captain and the crew and their crazy-

Family, the treacherous voice whispered, and Ellie grit her teeth.

No. The others might think that, but not her. She knew how things would fall when the chips were down, because no matter who held the cards it was always the same. And if there was one thing Ellie was acutely aware of, it was that even family didn’t count for all that much in the end. Imogen could look for the best in people all she wanted, and even occasionally find it…but that didn’t change the fact that the best of the worst still wasn’t worth all that much.

Even so, Ellie wasn’t going to turn tail just yet. She still had business to take care of, debts to settle. And if the Captain wasn’t going to watch her own damn back in this universe full of people just itching to stab it…well, Ellie would do that for her.

Not because she cared, but because Imogen believed she did. That sort of high-hoping trust was a rare thing. Ellie didn’t particularly want it...but Imogen had given it to her anyway.

For that, Ellie owed her something in return, and she’d stick around until she figured out just what that something was.

[emmym1]

My thoughts on... X-23: Deadly Regenesis 2023 (#1-5)

As I'm continuing my read through of the X-23 comics, it's time for X-23: Deadly Regenesis! This mini takes place between the first few issues of the 2010 X-23 run and fills up some gaps. It was really interesting to see how it showed us more of what Laura was doing on the road before Gambit teamed up with her and what she was dealing with.

I really liked how it explored more of her time on the road after leaving Utopia while also having more tidbits of her at the facility with Kimura. It was really neat to have more exploration of that. Especially with Kimura, because I feel like she's Laura's nemesis and she really deserves more exploration because of that. So i'm glad we got to see more of their dynamic in this and be explored more. I also loved how this mini gave more gravitas to all the killing Laura has done during her time at the facility by showing what impact it had on innocent people through the story of Haymaker. I do wish they had leaned into that angle more. But more on that later. Something I also really loved is how well this mini ties into Laura's other stories during this time period. Especially Liu's run of X-23!

I also liked how this story revolved around Kingpin wanting Laura back for his own plans. It's a nice butterfly effect from her time at the facility. And I think it makes a lot of sense to have buyers from then try to hunt her down. I will say, It was kind of weird to see the absence of the trigger scent in this and instead there being a chemical that temporarily removes her healing factor. Especially because they want Laura due to what she can do and they need to condition her again to make her do those things again. So it's really weird to see them not opt to use the trigger scent to make her comply. I'm a bit conflicted as to how I feel on Laura's characterization in this. One on hand I feel it's very in line with how she was during the time this mini takes place and expands upon some of it. I really loved the whole thing of her being able to heal physical wounds but not mental ones angle they had going on. And how she questions if her actions after leaving the facility were any different from her time during. Was a really interesting thought Laura was dealing with. Although I think they should've gone deeper with everything especially given her mental state during that time. I do love how a lot of Laura's dialogue in this is internal monologue, because during the timeperiod of this mini she really wasn't very talkative. I love that they kept that in mind. One the other hand I feel some of her characterization in this isn't really in line with how she was during that time or isn't really consistent. Especially the whole heroism thing and her thoughts regarding killing. I feel like during this time period she wasn't really busy thinking about being an actual hero but more about finding herself and becomming a better person, I did like the tidbits where she finds herself not to be worthy of being called a hero because those parts are very in line with how she was at that time and how she viewed herself. Her thoughts on killing are very weird in this, some of it is in line with how she was at the time but some of it is really isn't. Like she spares all of Kingpin's guards but feels like Kingpin himself deserves to be killed. It was really weird to see her conciously decide to spare his guards because I feel like it's definitely something she wouldn't have done. Her dynamic with Haymaker is also a bit strange and a missed opportunity. In Liu's run you see her struggle quite a lot trying to face the victim of whom she killed the parents of. And here she kinda gets over it quite fast. I wished they would've spent more time on exploring her guilt and what seeing a victim of her past does to her. As I mentioned before I really liked Haymaker, it's a character that gives Laura's past as a weapon a lot more gravitas and allows you to see how much it affected innocent people's lives. They're an interesting character for sure. I mentioned I found Laura's dynamic with them a bit strange, but the opposite direction is also true. Haymaker gets over Laura being responsible for a lot of their suffering quite fast and isn't really reluctant to team up with her. I feel that a lot more time should've been spent on their dynamic as they could have done some interesting stuff with it.

All by all I feel like this was a pretty fun read with some really interesting and intriguing tidbits for Laura as a character while also filling in some gaps in her story. I really loved the parts they expanded upon in her characterization while I do wish some of her other characterization in this was more consistent with how she was during the time period this mini took place in. Haymaker was a very interesting character and a good addition but I do feel their dynamic with Laura needed a lot more exploration and focus. The overall story was really interesting, dealing with both Kimura returning and Fisk wanting Laura back as his personal assasin. It definitely felt like a natural story in Laura's continuity and not something that feels out of place. Especially with how much it ties into Liu's X-23 run, something that I really appreciate!

[rax-writes]

More 》 Part Two

Fandom:  MCU Pairing:  Baron Helmut Zemo x Reader Warnings:  Sexual intercourse, choking, hair pulling, oral sex (f!receiving) [reader is a female-identifying individual with a vagina] Notes:  Part two of More  》 I cannot thank you guys enough for how well More did, and I hope that you enjoy this addition to it!  》 I honestly didn’t edit this all that extensively, so if there are any errors, please let me know. ♥

At the break of dawn the next morning, you found yourself on a loading dock for shipment containers with Sharon, Bucky, Sam, and Zemo – pretending all the while that nothing had happened between you and the latter individual. You wore a sweater with a high neckline, per Zemo’s suggestion, and interacted with him exactly the same way that you had before. He did a good job at selling the lie as well, although he seemed incapable of keeping his eyes to himself, frequently staring at you for far longer than he should have, that dark, hungry look in his eyes returning if his gaze lingered for too long.

“All right, he’s in there,” Sharon announced, stopping in the middle of the massive metal boxes. “Container four-two-six-one. I’ll keep an eye out while you guys talk to Nagel, but hurry. We’re on borrowed time.”

You accepted one of the earpieces she offered, getting it into place as she walked off. When the four of you entered the container, you found that it was empty, and appeared to have been that way for quite some time.

“Hey, Sharon, you sure this is the right one?” Sam inquired incredulously. “It’s completely empty.”

“Positive. It has to be.”

You entered the container, the other three right behind you, and closed your eyes as they looked around.

“He’s here. I can hear his thoughts,” you announced, then began to pick the doctor’s brain further. “Push against the back wall. There’s a secret passageway.”

Zemo did as you bade him, and sure enough, the wall moved backwards a bit, to allow him to open the hidden door. He shot you a curt nod of approval, then stepped back to allow Sam to enter first, and the rest of you followed suit.

Music filled the air, a swanky song you didn’t recognize, as you stalked through the laboratory, your gun aimed dead ahead and eyes peeled.

“Follow me,” you whispered, taking the lead as you easily navigated to the physical source of Dr. Nagel’s thoughts. When you saw him, his back was to you, slouched over whatever he was working on as he hummed along to the tune. Sam silently walked over and removed the needle from the record that played the music, and Nagel turned around slowly, fear written all over his face.

“Dr. Nagel?”

“Who are you? What do you want?”

“We know you created the super soldier serum.”

“Get out of my lab,” Nagel commanded, as if he was in any position to give orders. He began to walk toward the exit, but you stepped in front of him and stopped him with a hand flat against his bony chest.

“I’m afraid we can’t do that. Not until you tell us what we need to know,” you informed him without speaking, your voice infiltrating his mind. Nagel let out a frightened gasp as he looked behind him, apparently thinking that may be the source of the voice, before his eyes landed on you.

“You,” he whispered, his voice a mix of confusion, fear, and awe as you met his gaze with harsh eyes. “You – you spoke to me, in my head. How did you do that?”

“She can read your mind, and she can also control it. So, I’d advise you to answer our questions, before she forces you to,” Sam threatened, then watched as Nagel took note of Bucky across the room. “And you know who he is, right?” He then grabbed Nagel by the arm and turned him to face Zemo. “This is Baron Zemo. I know you’ve heard of him, too, right?” He dragged Nagel to the nearest wall, shoving him against it as his back collided with the metal grate. “You seem like a pretty smart guy, so you better become conversational real quick.”

“How ‘bout a counter proposal? Make me a better offer, and I’ll talk,” Nagel proposed.

“Guys, we have company,” Sharon’s voice stated through the earpiece. “Every bounty hunter in the city is here. We gotta go!”

Bucky grabbed Nagel by his shirt and dragged him over to a chair, forcing him down roughly before pointing his gun at Nagel’s head, finger on the trigger. He still didn’t look terribly interested in talking, so you lowered your weapon and narrowed your eyes at him, and used your abilities to insight sheer, unadulterated fear in his mind. His eyes widened and he visibly paled as his mind wreaked havoc on itself, instilling a very pure, very powerful terror within him.

“Okay, okay! I’ll talk! Just stop it!”

You ended the onslaught of panic, and raised your gun once again, as your three companions eyed you with curiosity, unsure of what exactly you’d just done to him. But there would be time for an explanation later.

Nagel explained how he formulated the super soldier serum, and you all listened intently to his little tale. That was when you heard it. Like the crack of a twig in an otherwise silent forest, yet making no audible sound at all, you heard it.

“I must kill him.”

You looked over at Zemo as nonchalantly as possible, and his eyes widened slightly when he realized you’d picked up on his decision. The two of you shared tense eye contact for several beats, and you knew that you must make a choice. Allow Zemo to end this man’s life, and end the possibility of additional serums being created, or warn Sam and Bucky of his intentions?

“You know the damage unchecked Super Soldiers can cause. He is dangerous; he must be stopped.”

Zemo spoke directly to you in his mind, and you took the opportunity to dig deeper, searching for any sign that he was going to betray you, Sam, and Bucky. When you found none, you sighed quietly as you made your choice, and returned your attention to Nagel. Out of your peripheral, you saw Zemo begin perusing the room, feeling underneath tables in the lab in search of a secluded weapon.

“Is there any serum in this lab?” Bucky inquired, and when Nagel hesitated, he pressed the barrel of his gun against the man’s temple, prompting an answer of no. “Now what?”

Sharon ran into the room then, announcing, “Guys, we’re seriously outta time here.”

Zemo took her distraction as an opportunity to draw his gun and shoot Nagel in the chest, straight through his heart. Sam tackled Zemo, and Sharon took the gun from his hand, whispering, “What did you do?”

The very next moment, the entire place exploded, erupting into flames as you, Bucky, Sam, and Sharon hit the deck, although Zemo was nowhere to be found when you groaned in pain and looked around the room from your position on the floor. Bucky pulled you to your feet, then Sharon, then Sam, as the four of you exited the container before it could explode from all the chemicals and fire in Nagel’s lab. You didn’t quite make it, as a gas-fueled explosion went off just as you exited the container, but you were far enough away from it that it merely blew your hair forward. Once outside, the adrenaline wore off just enough that you felt a blinding pain in your torso, and looked down to see blood quickly soaking through your sweater.

“Bucky,” you called out, and he turned quickly, a frown forming on his face when he saw your injury. You lifted your shirt to reveal a thin, jagged, three-inch long sliver of metal embedded in the center of your abdomen. Sam turned to bark orders at the two of you, but his face fell as he saw the blood.

Sharon made quick work of removing the metal, which was thankfully only about an inch or less in width, so it wasn’t at all deadly. Truthfully, it wasn't that bad of an injury, but god was it bleeding like hell. Bucky yanked off his jacket and handed it to you, instructing you to apply pressure to the wound and stick close to him. Your three companions shot at the bounty hunters that were approaching, and you did your best to fire a few shots yourself, your other hand pressing the jacket firmly against your injury. Sam shot you a disapproving look and told you to focus on yourself, but you ignored him.

While Sam and Bucky began bickering about who should have followed whose orders, there was yet another deafening explosion nearby. You looked in that direction to see Zemo with some sort of mask on, jumping down from atop some storage containers, before leaping over some metal piping and dodging past a man to evade his bullets, then grabbing him by the collar to use him as a human shield. He fired multiple rounds at the nearby bounty hunters, before releasing his grip on the first man and kicking him away, then shot him too. He looked at you through the flames, and you didn’t have to read his mind to know how exhilarated he felt, being truly back in action after spending years in a cell.

If asked, you’d chalk it up to the blood loss, but… goddamn, he looked hot kicking ass like that.

“Go,” Bucky ordered, helping you up and wrapping an arm around your waist to steady and guide you as the four of you made a break for it. Eventually, you reached an open storage container, and Sam helped you into it as Bucky fended off the last few bounty hunters.

When Bucky burst through the back of the container with his vibranium arm, you heard tires screech and an engine rev, before Zemo pulled up in a sports car.

“Supercharged,” he stated with the faintest smile. Christ, he was just a little bit of a goofball, wasn’t he?

“You’re going back to jail,” Sam said angrily, then turned to you. “And you were supposed to tell us if he was going to screw us over.”

“Nagel shouldn’t have been kept alive. I know you don’t like it, but it is the truth,” you reasoned.

“He didn’t have to die though, dammit! He could have just gone to jail, locked up for the rest of his life!”

“Oh, yes, just like Zemo? The man standing five feet from us, very much not in jail?” you countered, and he frowned, knowing you had a point. “Once word got out that Nagel knew how to recreate the serum, every power hungry individual and group in the world would be trying to find a way to either break him out or ask him about it. And I’m sure he would have told anyone for the right price. Even if the serum didn’t fall into the hands of the wrong people, even if a seemingly good-natured country like America were to get ahold of it, it could still be used for evil. They clearly don’t have the best moral compass, considering the asshole they gave Captain America’s shield to.”

“Alright, yeah, you’ve made your point,” Sam grumbled. “But I still think we should take Zemo back to jail.”

“Do you want to find Karli or not?” Zemo interjected.

“He’s right, we need him. And there’s three of us, and at least 20 of them. Come on,” Bucky said, pulling open the door of the car before turning around to help you into the vehicle. Only then did Zemo notice the blood on your hands and sweater, and Bucky’s blazer pressed against your torso.

“What happened to her?” Zemo inquired, sitting up to help you sit behind him, and frowning when you grimaced as you maneuvered into your seat, careful not to get any blood on the lovely cream interior. The car didn’t belong to any of you, but it was so beautiful that you hated to harm it.

“Stray shard of metal during the explosion in Nagel’s container,” you explained, grimacing a little as you leaned your head against the headrest behind you, eyes closed as you willed the pain to subside.

“Are you alright?”

“I will be. Probably just needs a few stitches, then I’ll be good as new,” you assured him, shooting him a tight-lipped smile, which he didn’t seem to buy before he removed his trenchcoat and laid it on top of you.

“You look cold,” he muttered, then turned back around in his seat to face the steering wheel.

“Fine, but if you try that shit again…” Sam told Zemo as he climbed into the car.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Zemo responded, and you didn’t have to check his thoughts to know that that was a complete lie.

Sharon bid you all goodbye, and Sam thanked her for her help before sliding down into his seat.

“You’re not gonna move your seat up, are you?” Sam asked Bucky.

“No,” he deadpanned, causing you to chuckle under your breath, which earned you a glare from Sam.

The drive back to the airport was mostly silent, which you were thankful for, as you didn’t really have the energy for talking. The bleeding had mostly stopped, but you’d still lost enough and exerted yourself enough that you were feeling fatigued. Zemo parked the car on the landing strip, a short distance from his jet, and was quick to exit the vehicle to help you out. You thought you were doing quite well, until you actually stood up outside the car, and the exhaustion combined with some wooziness from the blood loss made your knees buckle. You would have fallen if Zemo hadn’t lunged forward and wrapped his arms around your waist, looking at you with concern in his eyes.

“Let us get you aboard the plane, and I will dress your wound,” he said, then stooped to scoop you up into his arms bridal-style, and began carrying you toward the jet. Sam and Bucky eyed him curiously, but said nothing. Admittedly, you were too flustered by the close proximity and his gentleness toward you to say anything yourself. You looked over his shoulder, admiring his stolen vehicle one last time.

In Sokovian, you stated with a smile, “I’d like one of those by the way, the Pontiac.”

“Whatever your heart desires,” he responded calmly, matching your Sokovian. As he approached Oeznik, who stood beside the steps of the jet, he continued in that language as he instructed the butler, “Have that car, or one exactly like it, delivered to Berlin as soon as possible, please.”

“Of course, sir.”

Zemo laid you down gently on the couch inside the plane, Sam and Bucky following close behind. Once inside, Oeznik brought Zemo the first aid kit, a needle, and some stitching. Both of the other men offered to do it themselves, but Zemo insisted that he could do a better job than both of them combined. In a manner much unlike the night before, Zemo lifted your shirt to have access to the wound, and set to work. Bucky let you hold his hand as Zemo cleaned the area and did the stitches, while you forced yourself to breathe evenly and ignore the pain of the antiseptic and the needle. A mere fifteen minutes later, you were all patched up, and Zemo was helping you up and sending you to the washroom with a change of clothes.

“You’re gettin’ real sweet on her, Zemo,” you heard Sam note, his tone suspicious. “You better watch yourself, man. Step out of line with her and we won’t hesitate to end you.”

“Understood,” Zemo replied nonchalantly, then you could hear him open a book and take a sip of his champagne. For your own amusement, you took a peek into his mind, and found that he was thinking, “Too late.”

You smiled to yourself as you undressed, carefully removing the blood-soaked sweater and placing it in a trash bag. When you saw yourself in the mirror, you first noticed the hickeys from last night, then the miscellaneous cuts scattered across your skin from the various explosions, and the gauze taped over your wound. The hickeys caused your smile to widen further, and you donned the plain black t-shirt of Zemo’s and his loose gray sweatpants before rejoining them in the lounge. His eyes darkened in that way as his gaze raked up and down your body, clearly enjoying the sight of you in his clothing, but he quickly returned his attention to Sam.

“She died in Riga, a city near the Baltic Sea.”

“I have a place we can go,” Zemo suggested, then leaned back in his seat. “I, for one, am looking forward to coming face-to-face with Karli. Oeznik, we’re changing the course.”

A few hours later, Bucky and Sam had fallen asleep after reclining their chairs and dimming the lights, as you laid on the couch, halfway asleep yourself despite the book in your hands. Once their near-identical snores had filled the cabin for several minutes, Zemo stood from his seat and came to crouch down beside your head. His expression was unreadable as he stared at you, before leaning forward to place a chaste kiss on your lips.

“I must admit, I was very concerned when I saw all the blood on your shirt. I have only just found you, my Sokovian beauty. I would prefer to draw out having the privilege of being acquainted with you for as long as possible, but I cannot do that if you get killed.”

“I’ll do my best to avoid it,” you teased, and he smiled softly. “Thank you for taking such good care of my injury earlier.” He said nothing in response, simply smiled a bit wider and kissed you again, longer this time, but still far shorter and far less intimately than you’d have preferred. You both had to take the others into consideration, even despite their snores, because you were quite certain they’d put a bullet between Zemo’s eyes and send you home immediately if they learned just how “sweet on you” the man truly was. He stood and fetched a blanket from an overhead cabinet before laying it over you, then pressed his lips to your forehead, and returned to his seat.

“Goodnight, Liebling,” Zemo said softly, flicking off the last light in the cabin as he settled back into his seat.

“Goodnight, Baron.”

—————

Riga was somehow comparably chaotic to Madripoor, in terms of the events that transpired there.

Shortly after you arrived at Zemo’s estate, Bucky returned from his "walk" to declare that the Wakandans were there to take Zemo, although he bought some time. In all honesty, you were only half-ass listening to him, because Zemo had exited the bathroom with wet hair and a purple robe that revealed half his chest. He caught you staring and shot you a subtle wink while Sam and Bucky were talking, and you rolled your eyes in return.

Next stop was a refugee camp, where you, Bucky, and Sam searched in vain to get any information on Danya Madani. Zemo somehow managed to accomplish the task, albeit in the creepiest way possible, which you teased him relentlessly for on the walk back to his flat. When he revealed that the girl he'd spoken to told him the time and location of the funeral, but refused to tell any of you, Bucky was quick to anger, snatching the teacup from Zemo’s hand and throwing it against the wall. Sam talked him down before you grabbed Bucky’s arm, pulling him gently toward the door.

"Come on, let's take a walk. I saw a little farmer's market down the road; let's go have a snack and explore a little, yeah?" you asked, your tone calm and soothing to contrast the rage that swarmed in his mind, and Bucky nodded gravely to you as he let you lead him. When you glanced back into the flat as you closed the door behind you, you saw that Zemo was wearing a frown, and a quick peek at his thoughts informed you that he was pouting a bit, wishing you'd have just sent Bucky off and stayed with him. You rolled your eyes internally, then accompanied Bucky to the market, where the two of you ate some plums and took a little walk. When the two of you returned to the flat, Zemo announced that it was time to head to the funeral.

"Did you enjoy your little excursion with James?" Zemo inquired in Sokovian, a tinge of spite in his voice. "Did you relieve his tension?"

"It wouldn't be any of your business if I did," you shot back, also in Sokovian. The disdain on his face disappeared quickly, and you added, "But no, we just took a walk and had some food, as I said we would. Jealousy does not suit you, Baron."

Zemo's voice took on a gentler tone, the Sokovian dripping from his tongue like honey as he said, "My apologies, darling. You are just so magnificent that I want you all to myself; the thought of you with another man is enviable."

"Don’t apologize. Just end it."

He nodded, and before either of you could say anything else, that asshole John Walker showed up, along with his partner. They demanded that Sam and Bucky no longer keep them in the dark, but ultimately, Walker conceded to follow Zemo, and allow Sam the opportunity to talk to Karli alone. As Sam walked off, Walker grabbed Zemo forcefully and handcuffed him to some kind of metal contraption on the wall.

"Aggressive. But I get it," Zemo quipped. He turned to you, and in Sokovian, said, "Once I get out of these, perhaps we could use them to our advantage later this evening."

"Zip it, Zemo."

Unsurprisingly, Walker betrayed his agreement with Sam, barging in on the memorial before Sam's allotted time was up.

"Uh-uh. No, no, no, no. This is a bad idea."

"It hasn't been ten minutes, John. Just sit tight," Bucky responded calmly.

"Don’t do that. Don't patronize me."

"Then do not behave so childishly," you retorted, and Bucky elbowed you while Walker shot you an icy glare. He opened his mouth to say something, but Bucky cut him off, aiming to divert the subject before Walker pushed you any further.

"He knows what he's doing."

Walker was silent for a moment more, before he grabbed the shield – which shouldn't be in his possession in the first place – and marched toward the door. "I'm goin' in."

Bucky stopped him, but after Walker guilt-tripped him, Bucky stepped to the side to allow him to pass. You groaned in exasperation the second Walker walked off.

"Why the hell did you do that?"

"It was either that, or you and me fight Walker and Battlescar – or whatever his stupid code name is. I'm already on probation, and I helped the guy that split up the Avengers break out of prison. I really don't need ‘beat the shit out of the new Cap’ added to my list of wrongdoings," Bucky said, running a hand through his hair before clapping a hand on your shoulder. "Come on, let's go find Sam."

As Bucky jogged off in the direction Walker had gone, you followed while grumbling, "My preference would have been the latter, but no, why would anyone ask for my opinion? I'm just the pet mind reader."

When the two of you caught up to Walker and Hoskins, the former was thrown into a table by Karli, and she ran off. Bucky chased after her, and you took another route to try to intercept her, to no avail. You caught up with Sam and Bucky a few minutes later, out of breath as Sam commented that the building was like a maze, and you wholeheartedly agreed. By the time the three of you found the others, Karli was gone, Walker was just standing there, and Zemo was out cold on the floor.

Walker and Hoskins stated that they were going to search for Karli, and ran off. Bucky threw Zemo over his shoulder like a damn ragdoll, and the three of you trudged back to Zemo’s flat, a little worn out and a little defeated. Once there, Bucky threw him down on the couch, and Zemo bounced limply atop the cushions, still unconscious. Sam began working on his laptop, and Bucky went on yet another walk, while you searched for the first aid kit.

Zemo looked surprisingly peaceful and non-threatening as he laid there, appearing to be asleep. You kneeled beside his head and lightly applied some antiseptic on the cut left by Cap's shield, right at the top of his hairline, and you found yourself admiring him. He had soft features for a man so dark inside; soft chestnut brown hair, adorable nose, slight bit of stubble across his gentle jawline and neck. You began dabbing the antiseptic again, still lost in your own thoughts when he awoke very suddenly, grabbing your wrist in a fierce grip out of reflex. Zemo's eyes were wide when he first opened them, but upon seeing you, he visibly relaxed and released his grip on you.

"Apologies," he whispered, then groaned softly when he felt the pain in his head. You stood silently and retrieved a rag from the drawer beside the sink, wetting it with cold water, then filled a glass with some ice and brandy and returned, handing both items to Zemo. He thanked you very sincerely, then laid the rag over his forehead and eyes, and held the glass atop his chest.

You were grateful that Sam hadn't noticed you doting on him, too focused on his laptop, because he'd have definitely asked you about it, and you didn't even have an answer for yourself. It wasn't like there was any need or obligation for you to tend to him like that, and yet you did without even thinking. As you took a seat opposite Zemo on the couch, you told yourself that it was merely payback for how he assisted you with your own injury the day before, and left it at that.

It wasn't long before Walker and his partner showed up again, demanding to place Zemo under arrest. You, Sam, and Zemo all stood when he burst through the doors, all silently conglomerating to one side of the room. Walker had the gall to threaten Sam, and it had your fingers twitching on the gun in your thigh holster in rage. Before anything could come of that, the Wakandans Bucky had mentioned showed up, and when Walker tried talking down to them before placing a hand on one's shoulder, melee ensued.

You leaned on the bar with one arm, watching in amusement as Walker got his ass handed to him. Zemo seemed to be in the same boat, observing without expression as he passed you his drink, and you took a couple of sips before returning it.

"We should do something," Sam said to you and Bucky.

"Looking strong, John!"

"Yes, excellent form! Top notch," you added. "Really showing them the prowess of the new Captain America!"

"Bucky…" Sam chided, prompting Bucky to finally intervene. Sam looked to you, and you held your hands up in defense.

"I am not fighting the goddamn Dora Milaje. I don't feel like dying today – especially not for the sake of helping John Walker."

Sam sighed before joining the fight himself, and that was when Zemo’s hand enveloped yours, silently tugging you towards the bathroom. You opened your mouth to say "Is this really the time for a quickie?" but he held a finger to his lips, effectively silencing you. Once he had successfully guided you into the bathroom, he closed the door quietly behind him, and shoved the tub to the side, revealing a secret passageway.

"Come with me," Zemo said simply, and you scoffed.

"I'm not abandoning Sam and Bucky. My place is here."

"Actually, if I remember correctly, your assignment is to keep an eye on me. Although I'd rather not have to, I will overpower you if I must, because I will be leaving now. So, it is technically your job to follow me, and it would behoove you to simply follow your comrades’ orders without an unnecessary scuffle."

The man really didn't miss a beat, did he? Sam and Bucky had, in fact, assigned you to watch Zemo. Although it was implied that that was everyone's task, they had specifically delegated the role to you. So, it was a matter of whether or not you could take Zemo in a fight, and although you secretly hoped he'd go easy on you, you knew that his own self-preservation was his chief concern.

"Fine," you grumbled, not missing the smile on his face as you shoved past him and jumped down into the tunnel.

Your joints ached in protest of your actions, but you ignored it. He was right behind you, not even bothering to cover the passageway back up before taking off in one of the three directions that the tunnel led to. You were right behind him, and it wasn't long before the sounds of the scuffle faded away. Roughly five minutes later, you reached the end, and he pushed aside the manhole above you and climbed out. Zemo took your hands and helped you out as well, before replacing the manhole while you surveyed the area. It was a city street, but they all looked the same in Riga, so you had no idea where you were.

"Come on," Zemo said, lacing his fingers with yours as you ran down the street. He took a few turns and ended up in the town square, where he led you into a hotel. As you entered the lobby, he explained, "We'll stay here for a few hours, essentially hiding in plain sight, to allow the Dora Milaje and Walker time to leave and search for me elsewhere."

You nodded, and as you approached the front desk, Zemo wrapped his arm snugly around your waist, pulling you close to him.

"Do you have any availability for the night?" Zemo inquired, then smiled lovingly at you. "It is our wedding day, and my beautiful bride simply cannot wait until we reach our honeymoon destination to get her hands on me."

You sent Zemo a quick glare, but the man at the desk didn't notice. He chuckled and nodded, saying something about "What a happy couple" as he booked the room for you. Zemo ignored your pointed look and kissed your temple, thanking the man and paying for the room before leading you in the direction of the room. As soon as you were out of earshot of the desk clerk, you glowered at Zemo once again, although his arm remained around your waist until you reached the room. Not that you minded, really.

"'Beautiful bride'? 'Honeymoon'? Really?"

"Yes," Zemo replied calmly, unlocking the door and opening it for you. As you walked past him, he elaborated, "If Walker comes looking for me, he'll be asking for a former SHIELD agent and a criminal. If the gentleman at the desk is convinced we're a happy newlywed couple, he won't even think to mention us to Walker."

It didn't take more than half a second to find his genuine answer in his mind. "How smoothly and effortlessly you lie, Zemo. You simply wanted to touch me again, so you came up with a convenient excuse."

Zemo licked his lips subtly, before shrugging with a small smile, wordlessly saying 'you got me there.'

"We need to get back to Sam and Bucky once Walker and the Dora Milaje are gone, but there's no foolproof way to go about it," you began pacing the room, as Zemo remained fixed beside the wall. "If I text Sam or Bucky, Walker will know they got a message, and they're both the worst liars I've ever met. God knows we don't need the Dora having any idea about where you are, you wouldn't last a full minute before they drove a spear through your chest. We also can't wait around too long, because then Sam and Bucky might leave Riga, and —"

You were still pacing and mid-sentence when Zemo suddenly grabbed you by the back of your neck and pulled you into a searing kiss, effectively silencing you. His other hand rested on the curve of your waist, pulling you against his chest. The surprise of the act and subsequent warm feeling in your stomach absolutely obliterated all other thoughts from your mind, and all you could focus on was him.

At some point, you regained your senses, albeit still in a haze. You pressed your palms to his shoulders and shoved him a few inches back, and he stared down at you with half-lidded eyes and lust-blown pupils.

“We – we need to focus on Sam and Bucky,” you managed to stammer out, but Zemo simply cupped your cheek and stroked the side of your face with his thumb.

“Is that truly what you want to be focusing on, Schatz?” Zemo inquired, his voice low, taking on even more of a gravely tone than usual. It flooded your veins with heat and desire, and you found your eyes fluttering closed as he bent down to pepper your neck with kisses. “Or would you rather simply wait out Walker and the Dora Milaje here, with me? Allowing me to touch you, taste you, in all the ways I know you crave?”

The final shred of your sanity left the building when he gently bit down on your neck, at the point where it met your shoulder, and you found yourself releasing a breathy moan and melting into his touch. Zemo wasted no time in kissing you once again, lips fast and insistent on yours, one hand on the small of your back, pressing you against him, and the other on the nape of your neck once again. His body leaned into yours as he kissed you with fervor, and your hands longingly grasped the front of his sweater. Eventually, Zemo abruptly spun you around to press your back against the wall that had previously been behind him, and he hiked one of your legs up onto his hip, gripping it under your thigh. His other hand slowly moved from the back of your neck to the front, fingers curling deliciously around your throat as he applied a little pressure, earning another airy moan from you.

As if on reflex, his hips bucked up into you, and the friction left you mewling. Just like last time, it seemed to be your noises that set Zemo off, as he released a low growl from the back of his throat and dropped your leg to tear your shirt off while you took the hint and kicked off your shoes. He undid the fasten on your jeans with lightning speed, and yanked them – along with your panties – down past your hips so you could kick them both off. Next went your bra, which was flung god knows where in the room, and Zemo took a small step back to admire you.

It only lasted for a split second, because you then grabbed the straps he wore around his shoulders and used them to pull him in and kiss him again. Zemo’s hands glided slowly, sensually down your shoulders, your back, then came to rest upon your ass, grabbing it fiercely with both hands. His hands trailed further down, to the undersides of your thighs, before he lifted you with surprising ease and carried you over to the bed at the center of the room. Zemo threw you down onto the mattress unceremoniously, gaze locked on your chest as he watched your breasts bounce from the force, but you were quick to sit upright and pull him back in by the shoulder straps. You removed them then, as well as his turtleneck and belt buckle, and he was cooperative in removing his own boots and slacks, leaving him in his black briefs, his cock tenting the fabric there.

When you reached out to remove his briefs, Zemo pushed you to lay down by your shoulder, and knelt down at the edge of the bed, opening your legs at the knee with a harsh grip. You didn’t even have time to blink before he dove in, licking a long stripe up your slit before moving to your clit as your head fell back onto the mattress and your eyes fluttered closed. He focused primarily on your clit, occasionally lapping at your folds, but always returning his attention to that bundle of nerves. Gasps and moans were already falling for your lips, but when his middle finger and ring finger entered the fray, you found yourself crying out his name and tangling your fingers in his hair.

That delectable little growl of his escaped him once more, and you felt the vibrations of it against you, which warranted another moan, and Zemo’s fingers began delving in and out of your core at a steadfast pace. When he began curling them upwards, rubbing them against that sweet spot deep inside you, you were a goner. He wanted more of your beautiful sounds of pleasure, wanted to see you become more and more undone for him. You only lasted a couple minutes longer, growing progressively louder and more unhinged with each passing second. You were then launched over the edge, one hand tugging on his chestnut tresses and the other gripping the comforter of the bed, crying out his name amongst various explicatives.

When your eyes opened again, Zemo was standing, kicking off his boxers as he made eye contact with you while he sucked his fingers clean of you. He had set his wallet on the bedside table in the midst of your pacing, so he retrieved it and pulled a condom from one of the compartments. You sat up and snatched it from him, quickly tearing it open and rolling it down over his length. The sensation caused a sigh to leave his lips, before murmuring, "Eager, are we, Kätzchen?"

Electing to ignore him, you grabbed his hand and pulled him onto the bed with you, wordlessly instructing him to lay down by pressing your hands on his chest. Zemo got the message with ease, happily complying as you straddled him. The sight of you sinking down on his clock, your palms flat against his chest to steady yourself, caused him to groan in pleasure. Far too eager to spend an abundant amount of time adjusting to him, you began moving, rocking your hips back and forth at a resolute pace, savoring the feeling of him sliding in and out of you. Zemo's hands rested on your waist, fingertips digging into your skin as he helped you keep your rhythm, while he gazed up at you as if you were a goddess in the flesh, his jaw hanging open slightly and hair disheveled.

By the time you were approaching your second orgasm, Zemo could tell, from the faltering of your hips as they strove to increase their speed, and from the way your nails raked down his chest each time you used his length inside you to hit that special spot there. He began thrusting up into you, eager to feel you come on his cock. You unintentionally caught a passing glance at his thoughts, and learned that it seemed that he always wanted more of you, needed more of you, to the point that he questioned if you had toyed with his mind somehow. You were about to inform him that no, you had not done anything to his mind, when he trusted particularly hard and deep up into you and his fingertips dug deliciously hard into your hips at the same time, and all sensual thoughts left your mind as you met your release a second time.

Still shaking slightly and moaning breathlessly, Zemo flipped you over onto your back, lifted your calf up onto his hip and held it there, and began pistoning in and out of you at a desperate, unforgiving pace. When your eyes fluttered open, you found that he was practically snarling above you, teeth bared in concentration and an intense fire in his eyes. It reminded you that his softness toward you did not change the fact that he was a criminal mastermind and former kill squad leader, who had done a great many terrible things. Yet the thought only made you want him even more, wrapping an arm around his neck to pull him into a heated, haphazard kiss.

Zemo thrust in and out of you like a man on a mission, the sound of his pelvis colliding with yours filling the room, before he pulled out of you long enough to flip you onto your chest, face in the pillows and ass in the air, then resumed his pace. The new angle felt incredible, and it didn't take long before you were moaning into the pillows, fists clenched around the duvet. In the blink of an eye, Zemo grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked you upright, your back flush against his chest.

"Do not hide your beautiful noises from me, Liebling. I want to hear you," Zemo commanded, and you moaned in response, both as a confirmation of his words and as a natural reaction to the low, gravely tone his voice took on. His hand moved to encase your neck, tilting your head back even further so he could trail open-mouthed kisses down your neck, before biting down on your shoulder, earning a shuddering gasp from you. "Now tell me, Kätzchen: who makes you feel this good?"

"You," you choked out, groaning in pleasure when his fingers tightened their grip on your throat.

"Me, what?"

"You, Baron," you corrected, and Zemo hummed in approval, kissing you quickly in praise. He gave your neck another squeeze before throwing you back down onto the mattress, his hands on your hips as he returned his focus to fucking the very soul out of you.

As his hips began to stutter into yours and soft moans began falling from his lips, signaling he was approaching his end, Zemo reached around your body to begin expertly rubbing your clit, desperate for you to finish in unison. The way your walls fluttered around him let him know that he was on the right track, so he quickened the pace of his fingers on your clit, careful to maintain the angle he was thrusting at. As you fell apart beneath him a third and final time, your scream of "Baron!" and your core clenching around him like the most luxurious vice, Zemo found himself crying out your name in accompaniment with a low, guttural moan, spilling himself into the condom.

Zemo didn't move for a moment, hands still clutching your hips, albeit with a looser grip now, as he fought to catch his breath. Still panting, he slowly removed himself from you, falling into a sweaty heap beside you. Breathing heavily yourself, you leaned over to kiss him – far slower this time, both of you reveling in post-coitus bliss. He affectionately brushed your hair away from your face, as it had been stuck to your forehead from perspiration, before stroking your cheek with his thumb.

A brief eternity later, Zemo stood and headed to the restroom, no doubt disposing of the condom, before returning in one of the hotel’s white bathrobes and holding a cold rag. He flopped down onto the mattress, placing the towel over his forehead and eyes as he had earlier in his flat.

“Apologies, Schatz. As enjoyable as that was, it certainly did not help my migraine,” Zemo explained, blindly reaching out to grab your hand and bring it to his lips, placing a kiss on your knuckles.

You murmured a dismissive ‘you’re fine’ before heading to the washroom yourself, hopping into the shower and allowing the burning temperature of the water to ease the ache in practically all your muscles – some of it from fighting, some of it from fucking – although you suspected that the ache in your thighs, from being so tense throughout the multiple orgasms, wasn’t going away anytime soon. Thankfully, Zemo truly had done a marvelous job on your stitches, and the wound was already healing up nicely. By the time you finished your shower, the steam had clouded the room and coated the mirrors with condensation, but you felt more relaxed than you had in days. Donning a bathrobe yourself, you exited the bathroom, and situated yourself in the chair beside the floor-to-ceiling window on the wall of the room. Zemo was snoring softly, and the quiet tranquility of the room and the comfort of your seat sent you into a cat nap of your own, your head falling back against the chair as you slipped into unconsciousness.

You were entirely unsure how long you had slept, but when you awoke, Zemo was sitting with his back resting against the headboard, reading a random book he’d found in the room’s nightstand. He looked up at you long enough to flash you a small smile, before returning to the book. You yawned and rubbed your eyes, then sat up straighter in the chair and gazed out the window beside you. You hadn’t noticed, but the room had a lovely view of the town square.

A few minutes after you began observing the city below, your eyebrows practically shot up into your hairline as you saw none other than the bastard himself, John Walker, chasing one of the Flag Smashers before hitting him with the shield, sending the man flying into the statue at the center of the square. Each member of the bustling crowd stopped dead in their tracks, watching the scene unfold before them, as this new Captain America placed his foot on the man’s chest, pinning him against the stairs of the statue, as the man screamed, “It wasn’t me!”

The chair you were sitting in clattered to the floor as you stood bolt upright, a shuddering gasp escaping you and your hand flying to your mouth as you watched Walker raise the shield high above his head, a completely unhinged look upon his face. Zemo was at your side in an instant, his hands on your upper arms as he stood behind you, a worried expression on his face, wondering what could have caused you such distress. Before he had the chance to ask, Zemo’s eye caught the scene below, and you both watched in shock and horror as John Walker drove the shield into the Flag Smasher’s chest, again and again and again, until the man just laid there – bloodied, bludgeoned, and unmoving. Dead, at the hands of the new Captain America.

—————

@henrysmorgan​ @clints-lucky-arrow​ @therenlover

[crowsmybeloveds]

Shadow and Bone Series: Chapter Two

In Cold Blood

Pairing: Jesper Fahey x Reader

Summary: The Crows continue to visit Y/N at the Emerald Palace, and make some interesting developments.

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: Implied suicide (don’t take it too seriously hint hint); abuse; Pekka Rollins; again canon typical violence/slave stuff (this time it’s described more, but again nothing graphic); the Menagerie;

A/N: Thank you so much if you liked the first chapter!!! This one is a little longer and I promise the end isn’t as bad as it might seem.

Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~

Jesper Fahey liked to do his own thing. Sure, as a member of the Dregs he had to listen to his boss and go on jobs, but he loved his free time in between. Hence, he often avoided going on little arends for Kaz at all costs. It would be a waste of his time.

Jesper Fahey was now talking to Kaz. Volunteering for an arend. For the fourth time this week.

Kaz, Inej, and Jesper had been visiting the girl in the basement regularly since their first meeting with her. Kaz chalked it up to business, the girl and her potions were powerful assets, but the other two would admit they had found a new friend.

There were rules to these visits. First, only go during the day. Even if it seemed counterintuitive to sneak there in the broad daylight, Y/N insisted she would be unavailable in the night, as that was when her “work” was done. Also, if you are there, you must hide well behind the crates, and remain armed. You were lucky every time you made it out of there alive.

It was a daunting task, but Jesper was always up for it.

“You’re going to go there again?” Kaz asked him, eyebrows raised, “You know it’s Inej’s turn, correct?”

“Yes, and I also don’t care,” Jesper answered, “Also, she probably has things to see, people to do, and whatnot. I, on the other hand, have my whole day cleared. And I couldn’t deprive the lovely basement girl of this face.” He smiled, pointing to himself, “I mean, come on.”

Kaz stared at him, seeing through his antics in a minute. Jesper had taken a liking to the girl. What will happen the day he visits to find she’s not there anymore? Kaz thought. His hopes are too high.

“Fine, Jesper,” He agreed, “but be careful not to draw attention.” He scrunched his nose. “Do your best not to dawdle.”

“Right, I’m off then!” Jesper exclaimed as he clapped his hands together and ran off.

“I’m going tomorrow!” Kaz shouted after him.

The sharpshooter knew his boss was suspicious of his actions, but in all honesty he didn’t care. Normally he would have thought there wasn’t much spending time with her could do, as she had told him many of the same things over and over. That must have meant she had told him all that she knew. But Jesper was not going for information, he was going to be with her. He liked to think they were friends.

Jesper was often distracted. Whether he saw a pretty person to flirt with or a table to gamble at, he always found a way to not be doing whatever he was supposed to. Everything around him was so appealing and stimulating, especially in the Barrel. Even so, he sped down the streets without a single double take or second thought as he headed to the Emerald Palace. He really wanted to see her. So bad it was addicting. At first he thought that maybe the girl was drugging him, seeing as that is her particular expertise, but soon he realized that he just liked her. She was funny, and she laughed at all his jokes. She was also so intriguing. So powerful yet rendered powerless. He was enchanted, but he knew something was missing. It seemed it wasn’t her fault. He wanted to help.

That day when he arrived at the window (after making sure no one could see him, of course) Jesper saw Y/N sitting against the wall with her legs hugged to her chest. He called her name softly, and waited for her to reply. She didn’t reply, or even move. Against his better judgement, he shouted louder, risking being discovered by one of Pekka’s crew. He didn’t care. He banged the windows. Praying she would say something. Or turn her head. Or nod. Anything. She didn’t. A single tear rolled down her face.

Y/N had been sitting there for three hours. There wasn’t much to be said about what had happened. Only that she did not remember, whether her loss of memory was intentional or not. It was an off day, that’s all.

Jesper was panicking. He had no idea how to get her to wake up. That is, if she was asleep. Truthfully, he did not know what was wrong with her or what to do. Unfortunately, his noise making had roused a different group of people. Jesper had to run down the alley as he heard shouts coming his direction. He ran the rest of the way home, still in shock. He was not haunted by his near escape with the Dime Lions, but the look on the girl’s face. What had they done to her?

“And she didn’t move at all?” Inej asked. Jesper had just explained to her what happened after he showed up to her room at the Slat. She hadn’t appreciated being woken up from one of her rare naps, but she didn’t complain when she saw the look on his face.

“Not that I could see,” he replied, shaking his head, “Inej, I swear she could hear me.”

Inej did not know what to say. This kind of behavior was not usual for Jesper. He had his normal amount of energy, but it was not often it was all directed to one place: worry. It was odd that something upset him and he did not distract from it by going to gamble or making a joke.

“I just, if it were you I’d understand, but who could ignore me?” he said, “Going unnoticed is not a Jesper talent.”

There it was.

“You’re deflecting” She called him out, “It’s not funny. We should tell Kaz.”

“That's not funny,” Jesper replied, “what is Kaz gonna do? Tell us to stop talking to her?”

Inej sighed. It’s possible that he would advise that. But he also wouldn’t just let Pekka Rollins keep his most dangerous weapon. Especially not when she didn’t seem to have much loyalty. She had told Inej so many times. The girls had a bond due to the Menagerie, and Y/N told her much about her past and present. She explained different chemicals she had made and plans she had heard to Kaz. But with Inej, she explained how she felt about them.

Y/N hated every second in that basement. She had told Inej as much. Repeatedly. But she was rather scatterbrained. She repeated herself often and forgot things that she had already been told. She would forget what day it was and what she had done the night before. Inej had experience with trauma and sleep deprivation enough to shrug this off. She didn’t want to cause her friend anguish by questioning it.

The incident Jesper was describing made her think that maybe she should. Y/N was smart. Hell, she was a self taught Grisha fabrikator. So good, she could kill people from miles away. How could she be so forgetful? Someone so scientifically gifted must have a better mind than that. Someone must have been messing with it.

After some convincing to Jesper that Kaz would not kill or give up on Y/N, the pair made their way to their boss’s office.

“I was waiting for this to happen,” was Kaz’s response.

“What, that’s it?” Jesper raised his voice, “You have nothing else to say?”

Kaz glared at him from his desk. “I don’t know that you thought through your attachment to her, Jesper. You should never have assumed she was on our side.”

Jesper stared bullets at his boss in front of them. They seriously weren’t going to help her at all? She needed to get out of there, he knew that for certain. If it wasn’t because he cared about her then it should be because she is an asset. A good investment. Saints, he hated calling her that.

He didn’t say any of this, however, and instead started to walk out of the office. Just before he was out the door, he heard Brekker speak up.

“I’ll go and see her tomorrow.”

When Kaz Brekker reached the girl’s window, he gave it exactly seven taps with his cane, with a very specific beat. It was a signal he had made with Y/N so that she knew to open the window and talk to him without him having to raise his voice.

The girl turned toward the window at the sound. She set down the bottle she was currently working on and walked over. Kaz started speaking as soon as it was opened.

“How long have they been drugging you?”

Y/N scoffed, “Hello to you, too!”

“How long?”

“Um, never?” She replied, getting confused. “They don’t drug me with anything. I’d notice. That’s kind of my job description.”

Kaz looked to the side, thinking. The only way to explain her odd behavior, forgetfulness, and calmness in her position was that she was being manipulated. And because she was constantly making poisons and “potions” for Pekka, it made sense that she was being given her own drugs without her knowledge. He had thought this since he’d met her. She had to be on some sort of relaxers when he first saw her. Why else would she have so willingly opened the window for strangers?

“Why did you ignore Jesper when he was here yesterday?” He asked, hoping to get the information from her in a more roundabout way.

“I didn’t?” Y/N asked, “Inej was here yesterday, she got those vials of knockout gas you asked for.”

Kaz squinted at her, “Y/N, that was two days ago.”

She shook her head, “No, no, because I was working on those just yesterday and I just finished them when she stopped by. I haven’t seen Jesper in a couple of days, Kaz. Are you feeling ok?”

Kaz wasn’t sure how to react to this. She had missed the whole day? He was sure things like this had been going on this whole time, but never in the month since they began speaking with her has she forgotten a whole day. She had to have taken something.

“Are you self medicating?”

“No! Why- what are you talking about? What is going on?”

“Y/N, Jesper came here yesterday and you were sitting in that corner near catatonic. You wouldn’t speak or even move.” Kaz informed her.

“He must not have shouted loud enough, I was probably asleep.”

“You normally sleep with your eyes open?” He is tone was sharp. “Jesper said you were crying.”

She didn’t respond. She was shocked out of her mind. It was possible Kaz was lying to her to get some sort of information out of her, but it didn’t seem that way. He looked uneasy, the kind of unease that comes from not knowing something. He was a very smart man, and when something did not make sense to him he got nervous. So, this must have actually happened. And if she could not remember it, something was terribly wrong.

“I’m sorry, Kaz. I just don’t remember.”

“Fine. Then I need you to stop eating the food they give you. I’ll have Inej stop by with something to eat during the day.” Kaz paused, thinking. “And I would like to get you out of here, and have you join the Dregs. I just have to figure out how.”

“No, Kaz. I can’t leave.”

“Why? You have loyalties to Pekka Rollins?” He asked, anger clear in his voice.

Do I? She thought. While she knew his treatment of her was unfair, she wondered whether or not she still cared about him. In her time at the Emerald Palace, Pekka had told her many things about how he was the only one who would ever care for her. He claimed that he had saved her from the Menagerie, and he was taking care of her because he loved her. He also said that he would help her find her sister, often claiming that the potions Y/N was making was helping him follow leads about her.

When he started bringing men down into Y/N’s room, she was only a teenager. The first man that had ever touched her in that room also told her information about upcoming trips, which Pekka used to choose the perfect time to rob his house. Y/N felt disgusting in her skin ever since, but Pekka reassured her. I’m sorry , canary. I’ll protect you. Those men are not like me. While any sane person would call giving her food and shelter supplying her basic needs, Pekka called it courtesy. A gift because he loved her. A gift that could be taken away. He let men take advantage of her just so she could get him information, and then called it love. And she believed him. Until one day.

A man had come down into her room, which was usual for her on any given night. However, this man started out rough and stayed that way for the rest of his visit. She had tried her best with past men to get as much information as she could through simple flirting and drugging, but he was not there for small talk. For a brief moment, she considered saying no. In the moment following, she remembered what happened the other times she had done so.

She didn’t get any of the information she had been asked to draw from the man. Pekka was livid. The argument following had been explosive and painful. Not just emotionally.

“This isn’t love.” She tried to say it in a firm voice, but it came out broken and weak.

“How could you possibly know?” Pekka replied.

“Because you don’t deny it.” She said, summoning the strength to look up at him. “The men who come down here sometimes mention their wives. They might not be the pinnacle of married men, but I know they would never do this. This is bad for me.”

“Oh, is it so bad for you?” He raised his voice. “And who is going to treat you better, hm? Who out there would possibly care about you like I do?”

She turned her back to him. She sniffled as she cleaned up her worktable, silently hoping he would just leave.

He grabbed her arm, whipping her around to face him. “I don’t care if you hate me. You will stay here because of Anais. You will stay because you need me.”

The memory was scarring.

Kaz watched as Y/N got lost in her own thoughts. His voice startled her out of her memories. “Y/N, do you have loyalties to him?”

“My sister, Anais.” She breathed. “He is helping me find my sister.”

“Is that all?”

She shook her head. “You don’t understand. I need to find her. Have you ever had any siblings?”

Kaz paused for a moment. The comment seemed to toy with him. “No.”

“Then you don’t get it. I want to be with people I belong with. To figure out where I’m from.” She sighed. “Pekka is helping me with that.”

“And he has proven that he is actually doing so?”

“He said that he knew she was involved with the slavers who took me away. He is getting in with them to try and figure out where they took her.”

“Y/N, I don’t think he is actually doing that.” Kaz said, shaking his head. “This is your reason for staying?”

“And I have nowhere else to go!”

Kaz took a deep breath. He had decided what he was going to do for the girl since the day he met her. She was an asset. With her power he could complete jobs and gain kruge with record speed. Not to mention, if Kaz had her on his side, Pekka didn’t. The sweet taste of revenge covered his tongue just at the thought.

“I have an offer,” he began, “You come with me. Not now, but soon. I’ll come everyday to ask questions and we’ll plan your escape. In the meantime, you gather your things discreetly and try to find as much dirt on Rollins as you can.”

“But my sister -“

“If you are a part of the Dregs, you will help when asked, but the rest of your time is yours. Look for your sister, gamble your money away, take up baking, — I don’t care. You’ll be free.”

The offer was good. Great, actually. So why was she hesitating? Was Pekka’s manipulation really enough to make her turn away an opportunity like this? I don’t know.

And what about Kaz? Could she really trust him? The man wanted her for her powers, too. How was he different from Pekka? In her limited experience, he wasn’t. I should stay.

But Jesper. In the short while she had known him, Jesper had become her favorite part of being alive. And Inej, who was the kindest soul she had ever encountered. If they were with Kaz, he couldn’t be the demon he tried to be. At least not like Pekka. I should go. I should have gone a long time ago.

“Deal.”

In the weeks following, Kaz came every day to discuss every aspect of the Emerald Palace with her, in the hopes that he could get her out. Getting her out of the building would be simple, but keeping her from being hunted by the Dime Lions for the rest of her days would be complicated. The plan would have to be completely airtight, so Kaz needed time.

A few days later, Jesper was at the window speaking with her. The other members of the dregs would often visit along with Kaz and stay to talk to her, or they might come in his place. Today, after describing her entire tailoring process to Kaz, Y/N was speaking to Jesper about music.

“It’s like this huge golden machine made by Fabrikators, right?” Y/N smiled as she excitedly spoke. “And you take this small disc, place it on the machine and put the needle on it, and then music comes out!”

Jesper grinned at her. He loved the way she looked when she was excited about something. “I don’t know if I’ve ever seen one before.”

“Well, it’s wonderful,” she sighed, “Not to mention there’s thousands of the disc things, and each one is a different song. I wish more people had them than just the rich men who can afford it. I mean I wish I could have one.”

The two had been known to discuss things that had nothing to do with her escape, which Kaz had scolded them for plenty of times. But they enjoyed talking to each other, and they often got distracted. Odd topics of discussion were bound to happen whether they liked it or not. However, when Jesper realized that they had strayed from their original reason for speaking, he redirected the conversation.

“So, you get tailored nearly everyday?”

“Well, whenever anyone comes to see me. Only Pekka knows what I really look like. And you and your friends. Maybe it's a security thing.” She told him, thinking as she spoke. “Also, if anyone sees me who isn’t supposed to, I’m meant to drug them so they forget. Pekka really just does not want anyone knowing I’m here. Some bastard might try to steal me away.”

Jesper smirked at her. “I cannot imagine who would ever do something like that.”

Visits were going relatively well. Kaz had nearly enough information to finalize his plan for her escape, so he visited less and less. Y/N was becoming a solid member of the Crows even though she had so little time with them. She matched Jesper’s humor, built trust with Inej, and had a shared anger for Pekka with Kaz.

Today was Inej’s day to go visit Y/N, and she was running rather late. She knew the girl had mentioned not to visit after the sun went down, but Inej had been busy all day and could only find time to make it to the window after dark. When she got there, however, she realized why Y/N had made the warning.

When she looked through the window, she noticed that Y/N was not alone. When she looked closer, she realized Y/N was with Pekka Rollins. Luckily, Inej was the Wraith, she could watch what happened next without being seen.

“I don’t understand why you wouldn’t want to eat your dinner,” She heard Rollins speak first, in the most condescending tone she had ever heard. “Not after I worked so hard to get your favorite.”

Y/N sat on her cot, avoiding eye contact. “Not hungry.”

Rollins grabbed her by the jaw roughly, forcing her to look at him. Inej noticed tears shining in Y/N’s eyes. “Not hungry, hm? We both know that’s not true.” He laughed, with a terrifying lack of humor behind it. “Why are you lying to me, canary?”

The girl shook her head as the tears fell down her face.

“Your tears will do you no good.” Rollins snarled. “Do not forget what you are.” He paused, raising a brow. “What are you?”

The girl sniffled and didn’t respond.

“What are you?” He shouted and raised his voice this time, causing her to shake.

“A canary.” She whispered out.

“Good, and if I give you a song...”

He raised her chin higher, prompting her to finish his words. “I sing it.” The words fell from her lips like something rehearsed, but unbearably painful.

He gave a tight lipped smile. “Right. Don’t forget it again.” He sat down next to her and handed her the plate she had sat on the table beside her. “Now you eat and I’ll tell you about the man who is coming here tonight.”

Inej felt like she was going to throw up as she travelled the rooftops of Ketterdam back to the Crow Club. She knew Y/N was being mistreated at the Emerald Palace, but seeing it take place was something entirely apart.

As she walked in the doors of the club she felt a presence beside her. She looked over to see Jesper walking with her. He must have been guarding the door. He was waiting to ask a question.

“Yes, Jesper, I went to see her.” Inej spoke to him, her voice rough.

“And?”

“And Pekka Rollins was there.”

Jesper stopped in his tracks. “Saints, is she ok? Are you?”

“I’m fine,” Inej assured, “But I’m not sure about Y/N. He is anything but gentle with her. And he forced her to eat the dinner he gave her. I don’t think she’s gonna be able to avoid the drugs they give her anymore. If only she could remember to take an antidote before her mind goes.”

“Shit, we need to get her out of there, soon.”

The pair once again went to Kaz to discuss the girl, only to find him at his desk, writing furiously with two bottles in front of him.

“Kaz, Inej -“ Jesper was cut off.

“She told me how she’s been killing all those people.” Kaz stared at the bottle in front of him, observing it scientifically.

Inej and Jesper looked at each other before looking back at their boss. What was he on about?

“I don’t understand.” Inej had a confused look on her face as she tried her best to make eye contact with Kaz. She wanted to try and read him like she knew she could, but right now the man in front of her was like a blank page.

“Y/N. She gives them a liquid of her own design, but it isn’t poisonous,” He kept his eyes trained on his work, “At least not until she makes it poisonous. She can give someone poison hours in advance but it kills them right at the perfect moment. Right when she can get away. And, once they are dead, she can change it back to something nontoxic. It’s flawless: not a single trace is left.”

“Great, boss,” Jesper said, growing impatient. “Can we talk about why we are here?”

Kaz frowned, “What, because you want to get Y/N out sooner? She’s in a terrible situation?”

“Exactly,” Inej pleaded.

“If I tried to save everyone in the Barrel I’d be broke by dawn.” Kaz said, looking back at his work. Inej and Jesper stood there in shock. “If you don’t have anything else to say…”

Inej placed a hand up to keep Jesper from exploding. “Kaz, you told us that you would help her escape.”

“I needed information, Wraith, you wouldn’t help me if I told the truth.”

Jesper spoke up, “So you lied to us? And what did you tell her?”

“Nothing. She’s prepared to leave the Emerald Palace tonight.” Kaz tsked. “I doubt she’ll make it two feet out the building without our help. Solves all of my problems.”

Without another word, Inej slipped out of the room, leaving the boys to fight. Through the walls, she heard muffled shouting.

“How could you? You act like you have nothing you believe in but really you are so terrible that you’ve made yourself your own Saint!” Jespers voice was desperate, filled with rage. The betrayal he felt was clear even though he was muffled. He sniffed. “Put too much faith in that saint and he’ll kill your friends.”

Inej cringed, hating the harsh truths her friend was sending toward her boss. She had always known partnership with Kaz would mean conflict, but it also meant freedom. She and Jesper often commented on their cold-hearted boss. “We are both too good for him.” Jesper would laugh as he said it, but now it seemed to be a reason to leave. But where would they go? When it came to Kaz Brekker, no one was better, and no one was worse.

One thing was for certain, Inej was not going to let her friend die. She had just pulled Y/N up from the grave, and she’d be damned if she let Kaz Brekker push her back in. If he was so certain the girl would be dead by tomorrow, she’d get to her before then. She didn’t have time for Kaz’s lectures and Jesper’s shouting. There was a life at stake. She begged the Saints to help her, but deep down she knew that this was up to her and her knives. If Inej couldn’t save Y/N, the Wraith would.

When she reached the Emerald Palace, a nauseous feeling spread throughout her stomach. She willed her hands to stop shaking, but the tremor remained. She reached the window after carefully checking her surroundings and gasped at what she saw. Nothing remained in Y/N’s room but a white letter and dark ash, both standing out against the gray stone floor. Inej frowned in confusion. So, she is gone. Where could she be?

Y/N was a smart girl, she could be out of Ketterdam by now. However, she had barely had any human contact and had been drugged and manipulated for years. If she was not already found by Pekka Rollins, she could have already been killed on the street. But no one knew who she was, and only Pekka and the Crows knew what she truly looked like. She had become one huge question.

Suddenly, Inej remembered something.. Specifically, a conversation she had with Y/N not long ago.

Inej, this might be the worst thing I’ve ever made. She had said, a fire in her eyes.

Then why are you smiling? Inej replied.

Look! Y/N had pulled a thin glass bottle of a swirling liquid and a small flower out from behind her back. She then poured a drop of the bottle on the flower, which disintegrated into a pile of ash within seconds.

Saints. Inej was amazed.

Wild, huh? Footsteps came from the stairwell in the corner of the room. Shit. Inej, go. Inej hesitated. Go! He’ll see you!

Now, looking at the large pile of ash on the floor of the room, Inej realized what had happened.

“Saints,” She whispered, tears forming in her eyes. “She’s drunk it.”

She heard footsteps approaching in the alley, and immediately grabbed two of her knives, ready to protect herself.

“Easy,” Jesper appeared, holding his hands out toward her. “It’s just me.”

Inej lowered her knives as she stared back at him. “We’re too late, Jes. She’s gone.”

He laughed, nervous. “No, she wouldn’t.” He lowered himself down to the window. “No.”

Inej stood up and looked up at the stars, praying to any Saint that she could think of that she wasn’t dead. That her friend was out there somewhere. Alive. “Jesper, we need to get out of here.”

“But,” Jesper paused, his voice weak. “She was just here.”

“She’s not anymore.” Inej looked at him with pity. She could tell how much the girl had meant to him. “I’m sorry.”

“She was just here.” He repeated, voice cracks littering his words.

Inej grabbed his hand, forcing him out of this frozen state. “I know, Jes. I’m sorry.”

[phoenixyfriend]

More "de-aged Taka and T7 end up in the Warring Clans Era as Founders' wards" AU

“That’s a thing?” you ask. The answer is yes.

Uh. Kind of. Deaging Team Seven for the sake of tossing them back in time for a Founder to adopt is pretty common, but I’m trash for Taka so this AU started with me brainstorming the asshole team.

I am falling more and more in love with the idea of Tobirama ending up with custody of Team Taka somehow. He’s a science dad, but like. Marginally more ethical than Orochimaru.

Everyone around them is like "This is a terrible idea and it's all going to end horribly" and he's just like "Ah, these are now my children."

I've read so many "Team Seven time-travels and is de-aged, get adopted by the Founders" or "a Founder time-travels forward and adopts Naruto, subsequently picking up the others" and they're good but I now want the same plot with an even more dysfunctional collection of... eldritch mishaps? The AO3 feel of "I want this fic I just read, again, but a step to the left so it feels fresh and new"

I'm considering the tent of tranquility idea (courtesy of @sloaners​) and I've come to the decision that Tobirama's... probably going to end up with Several Holes in it, and burns, and cuts, because Karin and Suigetsu never stop fighting, and if they're fighting, they're not paying attention to how soon Juugo's going to lose his grip on control.

"Hm. Tobirama?" "Anija." "Where did you get children?" "They showed up." "One of them looks like an Uchiha." "He does." "Two of them are trying to kill each other." "That's normal." "Are the Uchiha going to accuse us of stealing a clan child?" "Probably." "...Tobirama, did you steal these children?" "No."

(It's not kidnapping if they show up and break into your house first.)

(Also none of them are particularly pressed to ditch the Senju and find their clans. Maybe eventually. Not now.)

They’re assholes but Karin is, even at Supposedly Age Three, babbling at Tobirama about proper lab protocol and chemical reactions and isn’t that just the most adorable thing?

Very few people find Karin as adorable as Tobirama does, because Karin knows more ways to kill a person than most adult shinobi, because most adult shinobi don’t know about things like flesh-eating diseases and specialty poisons from the other side of the continent that can only be refined via chemical processes that won’t exist for another three decades.

Juugo is a sweetheart. Best child. Then he loses his mind but it’s okay, Sasuke is there. Do the Senju trust the clearly-Uchiha child to control the much larger five-year-old? No. But they don’t have any better ideas right now, so.

Tobirama: Hm, we should do something about that. Karin: Here’s a list of ideas and things that have already been tried. Tobirama: Thank you, small child. Where did you get this? Karin: ... Tobirama: Fair enough, let’s see what we can do.

Suigetsu is a little terror because not only is he a Massive Jerk but he also has better control over water than most adults. Mostly because he is water. It’s very hard to find him when he’s avoiding chores.

Karin clings to Mito sometimes because Family! and then Hashirama tries to tease Tobirama about being upset that one of his students/children has ditched him. Hashirama ends up moping in a corner because Tobirama snaps at him, unsurprisingly.

IDK if we have like any canon for Touka beyond skill with genjutsu, but going off of the fanon that she used a naginata, I’m going to say that Suigetsu keeps trying to challenge her to Blade Fights and she’s just like Neat, A Tiny Murder Machine.

Sasuke is very quiet for the most part and Dramatically Broods On Rooftops And In Trees and Hashirama is just like YES YOU REMIND ME OF MY BROTHER AND ALSO MY BEST FRIEND and Sasuke hides.

Sasuke does not need another Naruto, thank you.

Sasuke ends up hanging out with Mito, I think? Like yeah, sure, she’s an Uzumaki, but she’s chill and refined and calm and she has really good tea in stock. Sure he has to learn fuuinjutsu to have an excuse to hang out with her, but that’s fine. It’s interesting. Karin does it too, sometimes.

tbh that probably leaves Hashirama to hang out with Juugo? Juugo isn’t great at Excite but he is great at nature so I feel like Hashirama would be stars-in-eyes about Juugo talking to birds the way Hashirama talks to trees, and Hashirama just gets him a chicken coop like HERE. FRIENDS.

But back to the suspected child theft.

Hashirama is like “That is... clearly an Uchiha. They are going to find out, Tobirama! Someone is going to figure out we have--” “Sasuke, show him your other eye. Yeah, the one you cover.” “...” “Okay, go back to playing.” “...Tobirama.” “Yeah?” “That was a Rinnegan.” “You know those rumors that the only way to get a Rinnegan is to mix the Uchiha and Senju bloodlines?” “It’s true?” “No idea, Sasuke won’t tell me anything about his parents other than their names, and he’s three, but even the chance of it being true means we have an arguable claim.” “...that’s not going to be enough to convince the Uchiha.” “The theory is but one weapon of many in the upcoming battle of wits.” “Tobirama--” “Now if you’ll excuse me, Anija, I need to go make sure Suigetsu doesn’t flood the training grounds again.”

tbh I can’t remember who made the original comment in canon about the Rinnegan being achieved via Senju/Uchiha babies but it’s funny to use here so I’ll pretend it’s a common rumor that nobody actually believes

MEANWHILE WITH THE UCHIHA Madara found and took custody of Team Seven and company, mostly because they’re like... jounin-level despite being less than three feet tall.

It involves a lot of Madara going "I want My New Children to love me!" and being sorely disappointed by half of them. Poor fucker got stuck with Naruto, Sakura, Sai, Kakashi, Yamato, and Obito.

(KakaYamaObito are deaged by the time-travel to 10-13ish. The kids are deaged to 3-4. Everyone has memories to just after the fourth war or so.)

Karin sensed T7 and tagalong pretty much the second they popped out of Kamui, and told Sasuke, but he correctly guessed that Naruto would hunt him down eventually, and said they should enjoy the peace and quiet while they had it.

Sai pulls emotionless creepy smiles in an attempt to freak out Madara but since Madara's whole thing initially was "less children in war," he's... mostly just sad. Izuna wants to know who made his brother cry.

Madara makes a vaguely misogynistic comment that's typical for the period and Sakura just. Breaks his tibia.

Naruto is genuinely trying to treat Madara with the kind of respect a caretaker that Attempts To Care And Do Good By Them deserves, because Naruto is a good egg, but he's... three again. Which means he's a Hellion.

The literal toddlers (Naruto and Sakura are three-ish, Sai is four-ish) are, in fact, toddlers, so nobody really expects them to be able to do anything. Nobody bothers to test them beyond the basics of like. Can walk? Can talk? Can maybe hold knife? Like don’t get me wrong, they’re very competent toddlers, but their hands can barely wrap around a kunai. Their bodies are tiny. Their bones only just stopped being soft!

That said, the “tweens” (re: adults who got deaged but Less) have to get tested for their skills. Kakashi downplays himself to what he imagines a semi-competent eleven-year-old to be capable of. He thinks of, like, Neji maybe? Good, but not suspiciously good.

Obito enters an intangible state and refuses to participate. He has a Mangekyo. His body is half-Zetsu. Stop bothering him. He doesn’t want to do anything. They assign him babysitting duty for Team Seven since he can obviously defend pretty well, and Kakashi vouches for his abilities as a fighter.

Yamato decides to try to be just a little worse than Kakashi but at one point he panics and does Mokuton on instinct and now the entire Uchiha compound is screeching because did they just steal a Main Family Senju kid by accident?

Yamato: Should I tell them I was a science experiment? Kakashi: No.

Pranks galore! None of the other time-travelers even try to stop Naruto, except maybe Yamato.

Obito at the Uchiha compound is mostly "I don't want to participate" and then just uses Kamui to be intangible until people leave him alone. If it's not another time-traveler or Madara, he's not interested. He doesn't even care that much about Sai or Yamato, actually, so if it's not an original T7 member, he doesn't care, and if it's Madara, he's just here to make things Difficult.

The Kyuubi wanders up to the Uchiha compound one day and everyone's preparing for a battle, even Madara isn't confident that he can-- [BANG] "KURAMA!" [delighted squealing]

Naruto now has a pet. The entire clan is terrified. Kurama pokes his nose at Naruto's stomach and disappears into the memory of a seal.

Madara, frantically writing a letter to Hashirama "What do I do if my toddler is possessed?!?"

Hashirama: You have a toddler?!?!?! OMG you should organize playdates with Tobirama's kids! Madara: I'M GOING TO QUESTION THAT LATER, PLEASE HELP WITH THE POSSESSION THING

Kurama hunts down Naruto, and the Jinchuuriki situation is very much in the realm of "Dis Mine" Also a bit of "If I'm in the brat, there's at least one Mangekyo user in hearing distance who can and will risk his life to prevent brainwashing. (Kakashi. It’s Kakashi.)

Naruto: Kurama's one of my best friends! Every time traveler: Yeah, that tracks. Madara: [teakettle screeching]

Per @firebirdeternal​: I'm just loving the visual of Giant Nightmare Terror Kurama kneeling down and pressing his nose to Naruto's Smol Chubby Toddler self and closing his eyes while Naruto pets him and giggles and every single battle-ready Uchiha is just. "wat"

Everybody else: Cool so Madara adopted a witch Uchiha Elders: We need to be careful of this horrible creature The younger generation of Uchiha: Okay that was weirdly serene and adorable and frankly the brat is really likeable when he's not being adhd as hell I think this is actually pretty dope.

Madara really wants to be a Good Dad but he has no idea how he ended up being "a dad" in the first place. He just! He cares a lot about this random assortment of kids! Some of them are from prominent clans and there should be search parties for the Senju kid with the Mokuton, or the Hatake brat, or the Uzumaki that doesn't look Uzumaki but definitely feels Uzumaki.... and SURE the only Uchiha of the bunch is a stranger who hates him for no reason Madara can come up with, but! He wants to be a good authority figure!

At least the Uzumaki appreciates that he's trying.

Seriously, though, there are clan kids and nobody’s looking for them, what’s up with that?

Kakashi still has a prize copy of Icha Icha and nobody in the Uchiha compound does a thorough check of his reading material until like three months in.

He is blamed for Naruto developing the Oiroke, because where ELSE would a toddler get such ideas? (Yamato and Obito both tell him he brought this on himself.)

Naruto waits until a Big Important Meeting lets out, something about tithes or a merchant contract, and just pulls a Harem no Jutsu in front of the entire group of Elders And Main Family. First he does a Mass Shadow Clone, which makes everyone turn on Sharingan because Fancy New Techniques to steal! Sure, they were late on the shadow clones, but the kid is clearly gearing up for something! The something is Oiroke.

Anime Nosebleeds everywhere. Most of the elders were hit. Izuna was hit. Madara is not bleeding from the nose, but he is very upset about having semi-accidentally sharingan-memorized his weird adoptee’s Sexy Older Female Alter Ego. There is yelling.

Naruto’s like “Oh, I missed some!” and decides to try again with Reverse Harem no Jutsu because there are old ladies among the Elders, and maybe some straight women representing a guild, and maybe some gay guys he missed! Madara is still not bleeding. (He’s very demi and tbh Naruto only would have succeeded if he’d tried to use Hashirama’s face. Naruto does not know this. He just figures Madara is ace like Sasuke and that no variant is going to work.)

Izuna gets another nosebleed and is just like “Well, this is not how I planned on coming out as bi, but--” “Izuna, I literally do not care about you being bi as long as one of us has an heir at some point, I’m more upset about the fact that my child has been corrupted!”

Back in the Senju compound, there is... a lot of screaming, honestly, but every time Karin and Suigetsu start trying to kill each other again, Tobirama just shrugs and tells them not to break anything.

Very easy-going caretaker, really. He's got some very deadly toddlers in hand, but they're still just toddlers.

Sasuke: Yeah, I might want to go see my clan at some point. Suigetsu: Yeah, I might want to go see my clan at some point. Karin, clinging to Mito: Yeah, I want to go see my clan at some point. Juugo: Please never, ever take me to my clan. Ever. Please. I'll stay with Sasuke, thank you.

Naruto breaks out of the Uchiha compound the first time he enters Sage Mode, several months in (it took a while to get the privacy) because he feels Sasuke and lbr if Naruto knows where Sasuke is, nothing will stop him.

The Uchiha clansmen cannot catch the errant toddler. They fail to inform Madara until Naruto is already in Senju territory because nobody wanted to admit the toddler outmaneuvered them.

Naruto wasn’t sure how to get into the Senju Compound safely so he just goes full Kyuubi, bounds over the wall screaming SASUKEEEEE at the top of his lungs, and then shrinks back down to Tiny Brat size so he could hug his Bestest Friend Ever and cling like a limpet while Sasuke just sighs and stares at the wall.

Sakura ran after him.

Sai painted a bird and Yamato dragged Kakashi onto it to chase Naruto, because Kakashi is at a point of zen regarding Naruto's bullshit and fully trusts the kid to not die.

Obito refuses to look up from whatever he's doing and asks people why they think he cares.

“We told you to look after the toddlers!” “Why would you do that? Seems like poor planning on your part.”

Disappears when nobody's looking. Waits until the Ruckus at the Senju compound (where T7 has crashed in to tackle-hug Sasuke and Madara followed in and proceeded to get shouty, and nobody's dead or battling because they're too confused and also it's a comedy) has started to calm down, and then teleports in and demonstrates Mokuton just to make Madara's life harder when the Senju Elders start demanding answers.

His energy is very "I am here to make Madara's life harder" and Madara still doesn't know what he did wrong.

Madara: That brat has a Sharingan! Tobirama: Well THAT one has Mokuton! Obito: Yamato has it too. [angry teakettle noises]

Madara's first response to seeing Sasuke is to turn to Izuna and point aggressively at the toddler while making a tea-kettle noise "He looks just like you!" "He's four, he barely looks like anything!"

Naruto, tugging at Madara's hakama: You need to make a village with Hashirama so I can see Sasuke more often, cuz I don't wanna ditch you guys, but I gotta see Sasuke! He's my best friend! Madara, who is aware that he could fight this child but really doesn't want to, and also knows that a tantrum thrown by Naruto or Sasuke is capable of leveling mountains: Right, yes, we'll get right on that.

tbh Madara wants the village anyway but "The bijuu-whisperer said he wants it to happen" is a great way to push things forward.

[sierraraeck]

Bad Liar

Moreid (Spencer x Derek)

Masterlist

Summary: Ever since his first day at Quantico, Spencer has had only one thought on his mind: SSA Derek Morgan. He knows that any sort of relationship would be inappropriate, but that doesn’t stop the constant stream of fantasies from flooding his mind.

Category: Spicy fluff, smut alluded

Warnings: Non-graphic descriptions of sex, fantasizing, suggestive touching, kissing, very light cussing.

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: This was inspired by the song “Bad Liar” by Selena Gomez. If you wanna give that a quick listen, go for it, if not, that’s chill too. I know that I haven’t been very active and haven’t posted anything in a while, but sometimes life just happens. Hopefully this was worth the wait…

Spencer had heard the phrase “I never stop thinking about you.” He’d heard it in reference to love and relationships when people were apparently so madly in love they couldn’t stop thinking about the other. He never really bought that. Love was just a bunch of feel-good chemicals that couldn’t affect the amount of time spent thinking about another person. Plus, how could anyone ever constantly think about a person? There were so many other things to think about like surviving high school, getting into college, graduating, of course his mom, and then getting into the FBI, and how he would surely not be able to make it all the way through Quantico training. No one could ever think about one person all the time. No, definitely not.

But Spencer wasn’t known for being a good liar.

His first day at Quantico he saw Derek Morgan, and he realized that he was wrong. He was so utterly and outrageously wrong.

Because after he saw him, heard his voice just once, his exceptional mind kept those interactions on constant repeat.

He was lucky he was so good at multitasking otherwise he would have definitely failed by now.

Not like he still wouldn’t.

He couldn’t sleep, not with someone like Derek Morgan intruding his every thought, every midnight desire. On top of that, they were about to go into the hardest week of physical training yet, and Spencer knew that this was the one challenge that his brain could not overcome.

The one redeemable thing about the humiliating experience he was sure would come during the following days was that he’d get to see SSA Morgan again. Sure, it'd be more embarrassing to fail in front of him, but at least he’d get to see him a few more times before they kicked him out for being the scrawny kid he’s always been.

The feelings of excitement and anxiety twisted his gut into a wonderful knot, keeping him from yet another night of sleep. Somehow that made it both harder and easier for him to get up when the clock hit 4:45.

Spencer looked between two blinds covering the window on the right, allowing him to see that the sun was still about an hour from rising. Slipping on his given shirt and pants, he hoped that there would be some source of caffeine at breakfast, preferably coffee.

He trudged into the bathroom to find his roommate already awake and dressed. “Big day. You excited?” Jeff, a man about a head shorter than Spencer but at least twice his width in pure muscle mass, asked.

Spencer just grunted in response.

“What? You’re not excited to get pitted against someone else so that you can flail around in an attempt to spar?”

“I’ll stick to teaching you the technique,” he quipped.

Jeff laughed. “It’d suit you better. Unfortunately your wizard brain and forbidden library won’t help you in this one. But dammit if you aren’t the smartest guy here.” Jeff shook his head as if it were a shame.

Once they were ready, along with the rest of the NATs, the group was directed to jog across campus to the building they’d be training in. The day was off to a bad start.

Spencer did his best to distract himself from the actual running bit, trying to analyze the people in his group and those they passed as they went.

Bored, hungry, important, invisible… Derek?!

He turned his head to follow the tall man with short black hair and dark eyes as the group passed him on the sidewalk.

No, that wasn’t him. Of course it wasn’t. Agent Morgan is waiting for us at the facility.

Spencer tried to hide the slight disappointment that came over him. He felt so stupid for looking for him everywhere, but he couldn’t help it. Even his own knowledge and logic was failing him when it came to this man he knew next to nothing about expect for his shining smile and intense eyes and toned biceps and amazing abs and powerful legs and delicious stamina and strong hands that could grip his neck and hold him down and his defined hips bones that Spencer knew would dig into his thighs and certainly leave bruises if he were to…

What was his issue? He couldn’t be thinking that way about one of his trainors.

Although it helped the jog pass by faster. Time flies when you’re having fun, right? Or at least imagining having fun.

When they arrived at the other facility, they were provided a quick breakfast, unfortunately no coffee today, and then led to the top floor with an entire wall traded out for floor to ceiling windows.

The room they entered was massive, large mats rolled out edge to edge, and the smell was musty. It felt humid, sticky sort of, and Spencer hated to think about why that was.

He quickly scanned the room and found his target immediately. Across the way, Derek had his opponent mid flip, landing harshly on his back with a thud. He helped the poor guy up, laughing a bit as he did so. His pearly whites were on full display when he looked up and caught Spencer’s eye. Spencer quickly diverted his gaze, opting instead to look down at his twisting hands.

“Today we will be focusing on hand to hand combat,” Derek announced once the group had wandered closer. “You never know when the perpetrator will decide not to run and instead to attack you, or when you will find yourself without any weapons other than yourself to protect you. The first thing we are going to practice are some basic jabs. Grab a partner and follow our demonstration.”

Derek and the man he’d thrown on the ground earlier, Grant, demonstrated the seemingly simple movements that Spencer and the rest of the NATs were supposed to replicate. Of course, everyone else made it look easy, but Spencer just couldn’t wrap his head around what his arm was supposed to be doing where and when. It was frustrating, even more so than he’d prepared himself for.

“Keep your shoulders here,” that velvety deep voice said, accompanied by his large hands on either of Spencer’s shoulders, adjusting them to more of an angle.

All Spencer could do was swallow hard and nod. He didn’t even dare to look back at him.

“And spread your legs,” Derek said. His breath seemed to get closer to Spencer’s neck with every word, and quieter as he went along. But surely that was all in his head? Right?

Spencer’s startled eyes turned to look at the older man. The edges of his mouth twitched before resuming that stern, professional demeanour. “It’ll help you balance.” With that, he nudged Spencer’s foot farther backwards with his own and walked away, leaving Spencer feeling unnecessarily exposed and confused.

The guy across from him, Harold, one of the only people who had been genuinely nice to Spencer from the start, was watching the whole interaction with suspicion.

The day trudged on with not much change. Spencer’s skin was still on fire from where Agent Morgan had touched him, but he tried to convince himself it was because he didn’t really like being touched. He knew that was a lie, especially in this instance, but it didn’t stop him from telling it.

After lunch, training continued. But at least it got more interesting.

“Grant just got called out on a case, so I’ll be needing someone to help me with this demonstration.” Derek waited just about three whole seconds before smirking, the mischief written all over his face. “Come on? No one wants to volunteer? It’ll be fun, I promise.” When he was met with more silence (even the guys like Jeff didn’t want to be thrown around by Derek), he was forced to choose someone. “How about… Reid.”

Spencer’s head shot up from the back of the group. No, no, this is not good.

Spencer had been dreaming about getting thrown around by Derek for a few months now, but this was definitely not what he’d had in mind.

The crowd slowly parted and Spencer had to face the music; he was going to be humiliated in front of everyone, like nothing had changed since high school.

Sighing, Spencer forced himself to the front of the group. “Lay down for me, knees bent, would you?”

I’d do anything you asked, was Spencer’s initial response in his head. What he really did was shrug and follow instructions.

“The reason we practice this move is because at some point or another, you will find yourself in either position.” Spencer wasn’t quite sure what he meant by that until Derek legitimately stood over him, a leg on either side, then proceeded to get down on his knees, essentially sitting on top of Spencer.

He couldn’t even focus on what Derek was explaining anymore. Breathing didn’t exist. There was no way this glorious man was sitting on top of him right now. All he could think about was how prominent Derek’s ab muscles were through his tight shirt and how he wanted nothing more than to lean forward and run his tongue over them. Spencer could almost imagine what they would feel like; the rise and fall of his muscles, the small hairs covering his body… Spread your legs, he had said to him.

“So then Reid would grab my wrist…” Derek’s use of his name brought him back to reality. If only he could live in his fantasies for longer.

Spencer looked up at Agent Morgan confused. Derek’s eyes got wider and looked at his right hand and then down at his own left wrist. Spencer somehow got the message and reached his hand over to grab a hold of Derek’s wrist. “Good,” he declared. “After that, he would hook his left foot on the outside of my ankle.”

Spencer quickly followed orders, trying to force his brain to supply him with the information he’d missed.

“Then, he’d use my weight against me to flip me over.” Spencer’s eyes got big when Derek said that, mentally panicking that he could never be strong enough for that. Derek nodded at him, so Spencer tried to roll over, and to his, and everyone else’s, surprise, he actually could.

Within seconds Spencer was sitting on top of a very pleased Derek. “It’ll work every time. Of course, if your unsub is skilled he’ll lock you in and flip you back over and potentially pull your arm out of your socket,” Derek explained while doing just that to Spencer, minus the arm-out-of-socket thing, “But we’ll take this one step at a time.”

Derek was back on top of Spencer with his legs wrapped around him in a vice-like grip, but quickly let go to help him up. Spencer gladly accepted the help.

Spencer doesn’t exactly have what one would consider a “big dick.” He always thought that was something to be ashamed of but standing there, getting hard in the middle of an FBI training academy, he couldn’t’ve be more grateful.

The NATs were sent back to work on the newly demonstrated move with their partners. Just as Spencer was about to flip Harold over for the third time, he looked over his head and rolled his eyes.

“What?” Spencer asked.

“What is it with you two?” Harold asked in return.

“What?” Spencer repeated. Harold nodded in the direction he was just looking, and Spencer followed his gaze. Derek was walking by, but nothing else seemed of import. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh please,” Harold snorted. He was a lanky man like Spencer, but just a bit shorter and with glasses. Sometimes Spencer envied his glasses, as his contacts often got on his nerves. He continued, “The touching, the constant eye contact, the word choice that could be inherently sexual, and then literally sitting on top of you? When there were plenty of other men and women he could have picked for that demonstration? Tell me you don’t see it.”

Spencer mulled over these words for a few seconds before flipping Harold over. Looking down on him, he said, “I don’t think that means anything.”

“Then maybe you need to get a new prescription,” Harold said, pointing to his eyes.

Spencer shook his head. “What do my eyes have to do with this?”

Harold sighed. “God, your gaydar is so broken.” He flipped Spencer over, stood up, and walked away.

Shortly after, class was called and they were all let go for the remainder of the evening.

“Reid, can I speak to you for a moment?” Agent Morgan called out as the first of the NATs started to leave. A few caught Spencer’s eye with unanswered questions in them, but no more than the mound of questions Spencer had been asking himself.

Without answering, Spencer walked over to the corner of the room that Derek was standing in. He could tell that he was waiting for every single person to leave the room before speaking.

Spencer thought for sure he was getting kicked out because of how horribly he performed throughout the day.

To his surprise, that’s not at all what the outstandingly attractive man had to say. “I wanted to let you know that you did a good job today during the demo. Not many people handle that so well.”

Spencer waited for him to say more, but nothing more seemed to be coming. Derek actually seemed a bit nervous if Spencer could read him right. He replied cautiously, “Thanks.”

Derek cleared his voice and said, “Yeah. And if you ever want to stay late and work on some moves I’d be happy to help.”

Spencer just got more and more confused as his interactions with this god-like man increased. “Thanks,” he repeated. “Why are you offering to help me like that?”

Agent Morgan shrugged. “You’re one of the smartest people in FBI history to come through here, and definitely the youngest. There’s absolutely no reason you shouldn’t become an agent, and I want to see you succeed. That’s all.” He shrugged again, and if there was anything Spencer had learned from the profiling section of his training, someone being over-casual was usually a sign that they were stressed about something they viewed with extreme importance, and were trying to play it off. Why would he be stressed to talk to me?

“I guess I’ll take you up on that offer. Will you be here tomorrow?” Spencer asked, trying to mask the hope in his voice. Who was he kidding; Derek was already one of the top profilers in the Bureau.

“I will be. You can plan to stay after then.”

Spencer nodded and walked away, but not before glancing back one more time. Harold was right; they did make a lot of eye contact.

The next day couldn’t go by faster. Spencer had spent practically the entire night thinking about everything that had happened, trying to figure out if Harold was right or not. There was no way. Spencer was just Spencer, a NAT, and Derek Morgan was, well… Derek Morgan.

He probably just thought that Spencer was a hopeless case and needed extra help. Yeah, that was it. It had to be.

When the day was over, Spencer wasn’t just relieved like he usually was, but he was excited too. It no longer mattered to him what the reason was for him being there late, he just wanted to spend more time in the presence of SSA Morgan.

“I was thinking I’d help you with that second move we learned today, the cross-punch jab combo,” Derek announced. His voice echoed just a bit off the walls of the training center now that it was completely abandoned.

He walked over to one of the punching bags lined up just a few feet from the wall, and Spencer followed him in a manner that could only be described as a lost puppy. Spencer could keep track of all sorts of numbers, but the sheer amount of repeating memories morphing into new thoughts morphing into full blown fantasies was even too high for him to count. He’d never known of a drug so powerful.

“I’ll show you the move again, then I want you to try and copy it.” Derek stepped closer to the bag and executed a textbook one-two combo, the muscles in his arms and back contracting in perfect unison. God, Spencer wanted so badly to just reach out and run his hands all over this pristinely sculpted man, but he denied himself, letting his hands tremble in place instead.

Spencer stepped up to the bag next to Derek’s and attempted to do the same thing. Derek watched with a sharp eye.

After a few reps, the skilled agent took long strides that landed him only inches away from the younger man’s back. “Keep tension here.” His hands engulfed Spencer’s waist and twisted them to the side with the ease of swatting a fly.

The feeling was so overwhelming Spencer thought he might never be able to move again, and honestly, he didn’t want to. Standing there in the grip of that man was really all he’d been wanting for months now.

The only thing that pulled him out of his trance was the way Derek’s fingers lingered as he walked around to Spencer’s front, drifting down far enough to send a clear message, one that even Spencer couldn’t miss, but not far enough to be completely intrusive.

But Spencer wanted intrusive. He wanted nothing more than for Derek Morgan to invade his personal space to the point of no return.

He looked at the older man with shock and a burning question, but didn’t flinch or move back. Derek simply bit his lip and scanned Spencer up and down at what felt like a snail’s pace. He felt like a helpless deer being sized up by a lion for his next meal.

Spencer swallowed hard.

He’d been wanting nothing more than to be in this very same situation, or one of the multitudes of variations he’d created in his mind, but now that it was here could he really go through with it? Was it really the best idea? Did he really want this? No, he couldn’t.

But Spencer wasn’t known for being a good liar.

The only signal Derek needed was the simple nod of Spencer’s head.

And he got it.

Like a snake ready to strike, Derek brought his lips to Spencer’s in an instant. His questioning fingers had an answer, returning to their strong hold over Spencer’s hip bones.

Spencer knew what was happening was completely inappropriate, but couldn’t find the will to care. The man he’d been dreaming about, spending every waking and non-waking moment obsessing over, was actually interested in him too.

All his fantasies were flashing before his eyes, Derek’s muscles now completely exposed to him. He frantically pawed at him, trying to feel and memorize every millimeter of the beautiful body before him, like every inch was another drop of water in his achingly dry mouth.

“Hey, hey,” Derek whispered. “Patience. Not everything can happen at once, remember, one step at a time.”

Spencer took a moment to breathe and look into the warm eyes he’d been drowning in. Only for a moment, though, as he had a lot he wanted to do, starting with kissing his way down this man’s chest.

Derek laughed a little at Spencer’s impatience when he placed his hands on his broad shoulders and lips on his burning hot skin. He didn’t mind, though. Unexpectedly, the young man knew how to use his mouth. He couldn’t wait to explore that particular skill set some more.

Within the next few minutes, bodies were slammed into walls, forced to the ground, and pushed further down into the floor than was previously thought possible. The echo of the room only amplified the intoxicating sounds and the wall of windows overlooking the campus only increased the arousal.

Spencer would have a new appreciation for the musty smell and sweat induced humidity in the room from now on.

The tension for the remaining month before the NATs graduated was unbearable. Harold made sure to point out the nauseating amount of glances passed between the two men, but was respectful enough to not point it out to everyone. He tried to deny anything had happened, but Harold wasn’t having any of it and let Spencer know he was a lousy liar, something he definitely needed to work on.

Come graduation day when all NATs would be receiving their department assignments, Derek made sure to personally hand Spencer his.

He carefully opened the envelope and pulled out the sheet of paper with one bolded line reading: “Behavioral Analysis Unit.”

Spencer immediately looked up and locked eyes with Derek. He simply smirked in return.

Maybe his fantasy of having something more with the agent would become a reality after all.

-

Taglist

@90spumkin

[jinmukangwrites]

Whumptober 2021 - October 7th - Blindness

Gift fic for @sassydefendorflower

Fandom: Nightwing, Batman - All Media Types

AO3

Warnings: Head Injury, slight descriptions of blood

---

Slade dodges under the swinging blow of Blüdhaven’s newest sewer monster; born from whatever chemicals a rat has gotten into near some chemist-based super-villain’s old hideout. Now, while it’s not everyday Slade goes out of his way to take down various monsters across the ‘Haven, this time… he feels a little obligated to.

Yes, he is the reigning champion of being Nightwing’s least favorite and most powerful villain, but unfortunately Nightwing is Slade’s favorite and most interesting opponent. He came to the ‘Haven to give the kid a head’s up that he has a mark in the city; a regular challenge he likes to set for the kid to try and stop him. However, when he didn’t find Nightwing along any of his normal routes, nor in his apartment, he turned to the news to see if the kid had left for Gotham or some other city without him noticing; preparing to postpone this mark until he was back in his patron city and away from other bats.

It was then he noticed the breaking news that a giant, sewage themed rat was wreaking havoc under Blüdhaven’s streets in the downtown areas, near a major subway platform. Nightwing was spotted going in, telling people to stay out, and he hasn’t been seen since.

Of course, Slade went to the fight, and it’s a good thing he did. When he got there, he found Nightwing limp in the creature’s tail, held inches from it’s long and jagged front teeth. Blood trailed down the side of his skull in a steady flow. Slade knew immediately he was unconscious.

He took out one of his pistols and shot at the rat, but the monster was so large and feral it hardly did anything when it went into its arm. It dropped Nightwing like a sack of flour onto the ground, snarling as it turned to it’s newest threat, drool dripping down it’s snout. Slade pulled out his swords and faced it head on.

The creature, while lacking any intelligence, was fast and powerful. Even Slade had trouble ducking under its tail that it used like a club and avoiding its powerful legs and jaw. While it’s disappointing to see Nightwing taken down by a creature as low as this, he can’t exactly blame the kid when it takes himself several minutes to finally get his sword through the thing’s tail. He cuts off the appendage, then while the monster screeches in agony, he pierces its throat.

It goes down twitching and gurgling, its blood bubbling down into the sewer's already questionable streams of water. He whips his swords out, getting off a majority of the wretched blood, then heads over to his unconscious person of interest.

Nightwing doesn’t move as he kneels down beside him, in fact he’s still in the rather undignified position he had been dropped in. Frowning, Slade moves Nightwing into a better position that won't strain his spine and smacks his face lightly to wake him up. He doesn’t even twitch, causing Slade to frown more. His head is still bleeding, which is worrisome. He grabs a tube of smelling-salts from his pouch—usually used to wake up people he’s previously knocked out to get some information out of them—and firmly places it under Nightwing’s nose. A solid few seconds pass before Nightwing’s eyes shoot open under his domino mask; his hands fly out to his face to stifle coughs and he rocks forward so he’s sitting instead of laying down.

Slade doesn’t try to make conversation quite yet, more worried about that head injury. He holds Nightwing by the jaw to tilt his head and get a better look, but Nightwing reacts like the touch was electrified. He smacks Slade’s arms away and jumps to his feet, stumbling back and holding out a single escrima. Slade doesn’t know where the other one went.

“Sit back down,” Slade growls, “I’m not here to hurt you.”

Nightwing flinches at the initial sound of his voice, his mouth dropping open in shock before lowering his single weapon slightly.

“Slade?” he asks, his voice slurred.

Slade resists sighing, and lifts his eyebrow. Who else would it be? It’s not that dark here, even with Slade’s heightened senses. Nightwing doesn’t relax completely though, as if waiting for an answer. Not for the first time that night, another spike of worry rises in his chest.

“Kid, sit down or I’ll make you sit down.”

Nightwing almost goes boneless after that, breathing a single ”thank fuck” before sinking to his ass and putting his head in his hands with a groan.

Now Slade does sigh, even rolling his eyes as he does so, as he once again approaches Nightwing and grabs onto his face to look at the wound. Nightwing hisses and flinches out of his grasp.

“Don’t,” he says, “I already know how bad it is.”

Slade hums, folding his arms across his chest. “How bad is it then?”

Nightwing remains quiet for a moment, biting his lip, perhaps internally fighting with himself on whether or not it’s a good idea to tell one of his biggest enemies about how injured he is. Eventually, Nightwing makes the smart choice and speaks anyway, knowing Slade will find no pleasure in ending him if he's already down.

“Head feels like a war-drum. Feel like ‘m gonna throw up. Voice slurred… ears ringing… I-” Nightwing hesitates. Then sighs. “I can’t see.”

“You can’t see?” Slade repeats, kneeling down to once again take Nightwing’s face in his hands. Nightwing fights the grasp, but this time Slade holds strong and takes off the mask, revealing unfocused electric-blues.

“Nothing, it’s all black,” Nightwing whispers, a slight wobble in his voice that Slade is sure he’s trying to keep down.

He grabs a small flashlight from his tools and shines it in Nightwing’s eyes, frowning as there’s hardly any reaction in the pupils. He clicks off the light and releases Nightwing, thinking of options.

He’s sure the last thing the kid’ll want is to get dumped at the hospital, but Slade’s no medical expert, especially with something as fragile as a normal human’s brain.

He sighs, as only one option realistically reveals itself. The last thing Slade wants to do is risk Nightwing going home all on his own and possibly making this blindness permanent when there could be something that can be done to help him. Nightwing is a competent, talented young man, which is why he’s so intriguing to Slade—and while he has all the faith that Nightwing will find a way to fight even if his sight is forever gone, Slade also knows the loss of sense will be a major blow to the kid’s moral for months to come. He’s seen how far Nightwing can fall with helplessness and depression plaguing him, and honestly the thrill of fighting him leaves when his fire is replaced with a desperateness to prove to himself that he’s still worth something. He needs Nightwing to have a steady support system, and help for this injury.

Nightwing is going to hate him for a while after this, but Slade has no choice. He doesn’t fight against Nightwing to kill him, but because those fights are the only thing that brings a fun challenge. For how human Nightwing is, he fights like a beast, and Slade can’t lose that.

“Up,” he says while returning the kid’s mask; he grabs Nightwing by the arm and lifts him to his feet. Nightwing groans, but doesn’t fight too badly as Slade firmly wraps his arm around Slade’s shoulders. “Where is the best place to exit this place without being spotted?”

Nightwing, with the complexion of the inside of an avocado, talks him through on where to go. He looks one small fit of nausea away from throwing up all over Slade’s armor.

Luckily, he keeps it in his stomach—perhaps the discomfort in his body being something more desirable to deal with than a vomit covered Slade—and by the time they make it out of a small, boarded up and abandoned, exit to the subway line, Slade lets the kid take a break by the nearest dumpster. Nightwing, the poor thing, must have lost everything he’s eaten today in those fifteen minutes.

Now that he’s out below Blüdhaven’s night sky, he’s now the one in charge of leading the way. Nightwing stumbles along blindly—hah—never letting go of his weak grasp around Slade’s neck and shoulders.

Finally, they make it to where Slade has parked the car he had taken into the city. The windows are all tinted to near-illegal levels, but Slade still stuffs Nighting in the back-seats and hands him a bucket he had in the trunk that previously held a few hundred bullets from when he bought them in bulk.

“Throw up on the seats and I’m making you buy me a new car.”

“Bet this one was stolen anyway,” Nightwing mumbles, curled up in the backseats with the bucket touching his stomach like a flu-ridden child.

Slade scoffs and closes the door after reminding him to keep his head down but to stay awake. He takes off his Deathstroke mask, then the top bits of his armor, and shoves them in the truck. Then, after he gets in the driver's seat, they’re off.

Getting out of downtown Blüdhaven should be the hardest part of all of this; both for Slade’s navigation skills and for Nightwing’s gag-reflex. Eventually, however, they make it out of the twists and turns of downtown and eventually make it onto the main roads of the city—still crowded with cars coming too and from various ass-awful shifts of work. Nightwing remains quite agreeable in the backseats, responding that he’s awake every time Slade calls for a status report (about every five-ten minutes), and groaning at every turn no matter how slow Slade takes them.

However, that agreeableness quickly leaves the boy when Slade enters the on-ramp connecting to the north-south interstate.

Kid almost makes himself throw up by how quickly he scrambles to a sitting position; ignoring Slade's commands to lay back down.

“Turn around,” Nightwing growls. And it’s a strong growl too, reminds Slade of a chihuahua. Shaking and all.

“You’re currently blind, you have no idea where-”

“I know the roads of my city, Slade. And you’re leaving it.”

Slade sighs and merges into traffic, then uses one hand to shove Nightwing back town onto the seats. “Keep down, a cop will see you.”

“Where are you taking me?”

Slade remains silent.

“Tell me it’s a secret mansion somewhere and you have your own personal doctor that can help. Or you know a guy that happens to be down south. Or-”

“I’m taking you to Gotham,” Slade says, ripping off the band-aid.

Nightwing looks all sorts of emotions in the span of a few seconds. The one he settles on, however, is anger.

“No.”

“Batman gets injured all the time,” Slade begins to explain, but Nightwing looks frantic now.

“No, don’t take me back- I’ve worked so hard to get him to see that I can do things without him- and he has a new kid now and-”

“Suck it up,” Slade growls. “Deal with it. I’m not like you, kid. I don’t know how to take care of a normal human, and I definitely don’t know anyone who can because I have no need to. What you need is a doctor that can treat you off the record, who knows about your nightlife. Batman has that, doesn’t he.”

It’s not a question, but Nightwing’s silence is still an answer.

“Whatever your old man thinks of you for coming back injured doesn’t matter in the end. Nor does the new kid. What you should worry more about is what I think of you after this. You’re not fighting Batman, you’re fighting me.”

“What if he doesn’t let me fight after this?” Nightwing… Dick whispers as he finally lays back down on the seats. He’s taken his mask off and is rubbing his eyes, perhaps quelling tears or a headache. Perhaps both. “What if my sight doesn’t come back? What if he retires me?”

Slade remains silent for a second, then answers as firmly as he can. “I’ve known plenty of formidable enemies who are missing a sense. You’ll find a way to get back up, and if he doesn’t let you then I’ll just have to break in, kidnap you, and train you myself.”

That startles a laugh out of Dick. “I thought you were no longer trying to get me to be your apprentice.”

Slade shrugs, allowing a smile on his lips, selfishly comforted that Dick couldn’t see it. “You have a lot of potential, kid, I’d rather you use it against me than not at all. I’ll train you and release you like the bird you are, and we can get back to the same ol’ dance we have.”

Dick takes a deep breath. “Yeah. Yeah… okay. I’ll hold you to that.”

-o-o-o-o-

Slade parks the car in an old neighborhood in Gotham that has a considerable drop in crime compared to the rest of the city. All things considered. Though, the sun is beginning to rise and Slade’s positive the Bat knew he was in his city the second he drove into it. Dick knows this too, as he’s telling Slade to hurry up and get out of here despite the boy still looking green around the gills. Slade grabs his mask and armor, then turns to the stolen car he’s about to abandon and opens the back door near Dick’s face.

Suddenly, and rather embarrassingly, he doesn’t know what to say. Thankfully, Dick is a freaky empath sometimes and gives an exhausted smile.

“Don’t worry,” he says, “I’ll get through this.”

“Good,” Slade replies. “I won't let you quit.”

His grin widens. “Never.”

Then Slade closes the door and takes off quickly, only pausing on a distant roof to watch a large black figure and a smaller red-and-yellow clad child approach the car and catch sight of the injured bird inside.

From there, Slade turns and leaves, not looking back.

He’ll see Nightwing on the battlefield again. No matter what, Slade will make sure of it.

[saintarchie]

Quicksilver

Sometimes being an evil genius means explaining your secret plans to yourself.

Outside Starkfort, the sentries are discussing the surprising news that the war is coming to an end, with the Swordbearers on the losing side. As one might expect, given how lackadaisical they were at the height of the conflict, they still make no attempt to stop us from entering.

Inside, the north staircase that was sealed shut last time we were here is now open, which I wasn’t actually expecting. Even with that option now available, I think it’ll still be west first. This direction was implied to be toxic by the journal diagram, but I suspect that might just mean it’s where Qada lives. Looks just like the east side so far. Oh, save point guy. Might mean there’s a fight coming.

Ah, it is Qada. All right. He’s still ranting to himself about Kamiizumi and his (in Qada’s view) outdated notions of pride and honour. He also suspects Kamiizumi was the one who stole the master sample, and contemplates using some of his own soldiers as test subjects in the development of a new one. Once he has it, he muses, he could go over Kamiizumi’s head and pitch it to the Eternian leadership directly.

Edea doesn’t think the Marshal would go for that, and says so, to Qada’s surprise. As it turns out, for Edea, all the stuff he just said was Fighting Words, and so now it’s Go Time.

Predictably, his opening gambit is a poison attack. A pretty powerful one at that. And he can heal himself. Or not? Oh, it’s a gimmick that heals him automatically every turn. Of course.

...

“Dealt user’s missing HP in damage”

...

What the fuck? That is unbelievably broken. He has 40,000 HP, what the fuck? There doesn’t seem to be any kind of limit on its use either. What the fuck. How the hell do you beat that? That self-healing thing never seems to wear off either. Fuck.

No, this isn’t happening with my current line-up; better reset and put together a party specifically designed to win this fight. Which admittedly is how the game is meant to be played, but this is the first time I’ve had to actually do it. Even with Chaugmar I was ultimately able to get by using the same party I stumbled in with. This guy? Not so much.

[some time later]

Right. Multiple healers, multiple summoners and a hunter/valkyrie hybrid, all of whom are immune to poison. Let’s see him shrug this off. Oh yeah, this is more like it. Still a struggle, but now we’re doing enough damage each turn to offset the healing gimmick. As long as he doesn’t spam that dark breath too much, we should get him eventually.

[eventually]

YES. Got him. Fucking finally.

Qada laments all the experiments that will now go unfinished and then dies rather theatrically. Meanwhile, I get the salve-maker apostrophe, which comes with a new game mechanic, based around combining things to make other things(?) Could be interesting. Anyway, probably best to go heal before trying the north section, so let’s head back out.

And here’s a cutscene. It seems Qada faked his death(!), and is now planning to use this opportunity to flee Starkfort and go AWOL. I know this because he explains this plan to himself, out loud, while still inside the fortress he intends to desert.

This has the expected result, as an unseen observer has overheard him and actually responds, asking if he intends to flee again(?) Qada answers(?) in the affirmative, justifying the act as simply doing what he must to survive. If he survives, he reasons, his fortunes are bound to reverse eventually, especially as he still has his chemical weapons knowledge.

He then goes on to talk, out loud(!), to an unidentified person(!!) about his intention to come back and kill everyone on both sides(!!!) Shockingly, this ends badly for him, when it turns out that the person he was speaking to, here in the Black Blades’ base of operations, about his plan to kill the Black Blades, was one of the Black Blades.

In fact, it’s Kamiizumi, who, having clearly been waiting for an excuse, wastes no time in dispatching Qada, for real this time. And so the moral of the story is “Don’t interrupt faking your own death to discuss your treasonous plans with an unidentified person who has a suspiciously similar voice to your immediate superior.” Which is a bit specific, but undoubtedly sound advice.