#in my further glimpse into hell - I will now have to convince my bosses that we need to buy a new machine and this one can’t be saved

[nickcharleswife]

There are few bone chilling moments quite as horrifying as a coworker texting in all caps that the coffee machine is dead on Monday at 8:30 am.

We work in insurance.

Year end is in two weeks.

Welcome to hell.

[sleepypanda27]

The Heat

Bucky x reader

Summary: Bucky doesn’t like the heat. He can’t stand it. So you find a way to make it bearable at least at night.

Warnings: Implied smut, fluff

Words: 1,349

It’s early morning. The hot sun is already up in the bright blue sky. The room is so hot it feels like sleeping in an oven. Almost unnoticeable breeze sways the sheer curtains from the open window that seemingly doesn’t do a thing to help with the heat.

Bucky is lying on his back, starfish style, staring at the ceiling. It’s too hot to sleep or even move. He just wonders when this hell will finally be over.

Bucky huffed, the heat was getting to him. It was starting to become unbearable. Turning his head, he saw you. A small smile turned up his face as his gaze traveled down your half-naked body. 

Suddenly a stupid, but scary thought crept into his mind. What if he’s having a heat stroke and he’s only imagining you. He needs to make sure you’re real, that you aren't just a plot of his imagination. He rolled closer to you, but you rolled further away from him.

“Doll…” He frowned, reaching for you.

“Nooo.” You whined.

“I want cuddles.” He pouted, but you're talking to him, so you must be real.

“It’s too hot, and you’re like a furnace.” You glanced at him, chuckling at the sight. His hair was a complete mess due to tossing and turning all night, unable to find a comfortable sleeping position. 

“Ugh,” He groaned, brushing the slightly damp hair away from his forehead. 

“Can we at least hold hands?” He asked, craving contact even in the sweltering heat.

You reached for his hand, lacing your fingers with his. He felt your touch, ‘you’re real’, he believed and relaxed.

“I swear I’m going to sleep in a freezer.”

“Don’t you think that’s a bit extreme?”

“If it’s too cold I can bundle up in a blanket, but if it’s too hot what am I supposed to do? Take off my skin? I'm not built for this.”

“You convinced me. Apparently, you have thought about that a lot, but I'm not gonna sleep with you in there.”

“Oh come on Doll, I can always make you warm.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“Yeah, okay.” You chuckled.

“What, isn't it true?”

Twenty minutes later and some more complaining about the heat, you got out of the bed feeling disgusting, all sweaty, and sticky. This heat was getting to you too. A cold shower, you thought, exactly what you needed.

You almost moaned when the cold water hit your skin. Like a refreshing rain on a hot summer day, water cascaded over you as you enjoyed the much-needed relief it provided. From behind you, Bucky slowly wrapped his hands around your middle, and soft lips pressed a kiss to your shoulder. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, relishing the cold it radiated.

“Is this is going to be the only way we can be together these days?” His stubble scratched your skin as he dragged his cheek up your neck, grazing his lips over your earlobe. “The only way I can touch you?”

“We’ll figure something out.” You promised with a smile as you turned in his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck. “The heat won't last forever.”

“I hope so.” He caught your lips kissing you, his hands roaming over your body. Trailing kisses along your neck, he found that one extra sensitive spot. You shivered, not sure if from cold water or Bucky’s actions. “Wanna get out of here?”

You nodded and he lifted you wrapping your legs around his waist. On the way out, he slipped and you tensed up cramping in his biceps.

“Shit.” He hissed, with one arm holding you with other holding onto the tiled wall.

“Maybe I should walk myself?” You suggested not wanting to die in a shower.

“Doll, I'm trying to do something sexy here.” He chuckled and carried you out of the shower. The air around you felt cold. Placing you on the edge of the cold countertop, he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the large mirror behind you. “Oh my god, my hair.” He stared at his reflection, not recognizing himself for a moment.

“Your hair is fine.” You tucked the messy hair behind his ears, turning his face towards you.

“If you say so.” He murmured against your lips.

***

“Where have you been all day?” Bucky asked when you walked into your shared room at the end of the day.

“Around.” An innocent smile graced your features.

“I haven’t seen you all day.” He pressed a kiss to your lips and then two more. “I missed you, babe.”

“You saw me in the morning. In the shower, remember?” You teased him.

“Mmm, I remember better what happened between the showers.” He smiled at the memory. “but that was so long ago.”

“Get ready for bed.” You patted his chest and went to do the same.

You waited until you heard turned on shower. While he was in the bathroom, you had time to finish the surprise you made for him and also for yourself during the day. Moving fast, you gathered all the things you needed. You returned exactly in time when Bucky walked out of the bathroom, ready for sleep.

“Uhh…babe? I think someone stole our sheets and pillows.” Bucky said confused, staring at the empty bed.

“No one stole them.” You chuckled, he looked like a confused puppy. “I have a little surprise for you. Follow me.”

He did as you told and followed you up to the roof, now even more puzzled. Before walking outside, you stopped and turned to him.

“Close your eyes.” You ordered.

“Why?” He narrowed his eyes, looking at you suspiciously.

“Because I said so.”

“Okay boss,” He chuckled and closed his eyes, completely trusting you. You made sure he held them closed by holding your palms over his eyes even if you had to stand on your tiptoes to reach him. That made him laugh. You led him to the place where you needed him, instructing him where to go so he wouldn't trip over something.

“You can open your eyes now.” You removed your hands from his eyes. He slowly opened them, blinking a couple of times adjusting to the light.

“Ta-da.” You stepped in front of him to see his reaction. “What do you think?”

“You made this?” He looked at the made-up bed in front of him that was waiting for him. There was a mattress, blankets, and a lot of pillows, probably more than you needed, but they made the place cozier. Some fairy lights were hanged by the wall where the mattress was for light.

“Yep, Sam helped to carry out the mattress.”

“Y/n, this is amazing.” He smiled excitedly. “Are we staying here tonight?”

“I thought so, It’s much nicer outside than in our bedroom.”

Without thinking much he winded his arm around your waist and fell into the heap of pillows and blankets eliciting a surprised squeal from you. You laughed as the soft pillows swallowed both of you. With a big smile, Bucky turned to you, brushing back the hair that had fallen on your face. “You. Are. Amazing.”

“I know.” You chuckled. “Without me, you would be sleeping in the fridge and scaring Sam when he would go for a snack.”

“Probably true. Now I kinda wanna see Sam's face when he opens the fridge, and I'm sleeping in there.” Bucky laughed, his chest rumbling.

“Bucky no, I'm not letting you sleep in there.”

“Doll, I would have to be crazy to trade this for anything. We can even see the stars from here.”

You woke up at the crack of dawn when it barely started to get bright, feeling cold. A refreshing feeling after days and days of never-ending hellish heat. But still, it was too cold for your comfort.

“I'm cold.” You whispered, half asleep, snuggling closer to Bucky.

“That’s good, it means I can finally cuddle with you.” Sleepily smiling, he wrapped you in his arms, peppering small kisses across your face as you giggled, hiding your face against his chest.

[starksvixen]

Reunited (Platonic)

Summary: Long ago, in a galaxy far far away...your home planet was invaded at the start of the Empire’s invasion. Your memory fails you of the event, only giving you a glimpse in on that day. Your brother, Din Djaren. A smooth flow through your veins. And a Mandalorian helmet. No one knows what happened to your brother, until a years later when you are reunited in an unexpected way. 

Warnings: Violence, cuteness overload from a youngling, not entirely accurate of the season 1 finale, angsty ending

-~-

The smooth metal against your fingertips is a welcome feeling as you help Mando prepare for liftoff, the child laying safely in your arms. Despite the comfort you felt in the motion, your heart was beating out of your chest with nerves. You and the Mandalorian were preparing to meet with Greef Karga, in hopes to get the Empire off your tail so the youngling could be safe. The plan seemed too shaky for your liking, but you followed Mando’s lead as always. 

He was all you had left. 

Sitting in the seat behind Mando, you look down at the sleeping child and a wave of memories washes over you. How you used to lay the same way in your Master’s arms after training long and hard. His soft Scottish accent rising you for your supper. Counting the soft grey specks appearing in his brown and blonde beard as you ate together. 

It had been well over a decade since you watched the monster that was Darth Vader pierce his very being with the red beam you had learned to hate. 

After Ben, or Obi - Was as you had learned to call him, died at the hands of Vader, you promised to never be under the Force’s influence in an effort to avoid joining the dark side. Despite your confidence in your choice, your lack of use of the power left a large hole in your life, just like Obi - Wan had left. 

You turned to bounty hunting to keep busy and get by. That’s when your paths crossed with the Mandalorian. It took some convincing, but Mando eventually pushed you into the duo you make up today. That hole had been filled by the masked warrior, and for the past two years, things were simple. He was your family, even if you weren’t blood. 

“(Y/N)?” his raspy voice echoes in your head. You wake from your slumber, feeling the small child still in your arms as he still snores.

“We’re here, aren’t we?” you ask, your voice crackling from the sudden change in sleep. 

Mando simply nods at you as he heads down to the cargo bay. You follow after him, gently waking the child in the process. Kuiil had made a floating bassinet for the child, which you simply laid him in before rolling your shoulders from your uncomfortable sleeping position.

“(Y/N),” Mando says while standing beside Cara, fumbling with one of his blasters. “Show her.”

You nod and take Cara to your weapons shelf, unlocking it and showing your range of Mandalorian and normal weapons. 

“Take your pick,” you say simply. 

Reaching forwards, you grab your favorite blaster, attaching it to your hip. A few bombs here and there and you felt prepared. But when you turn to Cara, you see the hilt of your old saber in her hand. 

“What the hell is this?”

You quickly snatch it out of her hand, gently sliding it into the empty slot of your belt on instinct, the leather still being tight from lack of use. 

“It doesn’t matter.”

Quickly, you close the shelf and meet the rest of the group outside the ship. Mando holds his hand out to you from a top the giant beast he had mounted. Your hand slips in his like a glove, accepting the boost with gratitude as you straddle it behind him. The beasts slowly begin to move and every so often, you turn to check on the floating cradle that followed you. 

“Are you sure we can trust him, Mando?” you whisper. 

“I’m not sure of anything right now. But if things turn south, you grab the child and you get back to the Razer Crest, got it?” 

“What about you?”

“I’ll be fine.” 

You sigh, not wanting to push the issue any further.

After some hours of travel, you met with Greef Karga and a couple of his men. Things were definitely still tense between the two parties. Nevertheless, you settled in part of the desert for the night, deeming it safer then wandering. Boy, were you guys wrong. 

Suddenly, birds easily the size of a X-Wing manifested from the darkness. You automatically guarded the child’s bassinet, watching as Mando in turn protected both of you. Blaster in hand, you shot at the birds to cover him and to keep them away from the child. After a close call with almost losing the child and your partner, the dust began to settle. 

You gently lift the child out of his bassinet, bouncing him around to soothe his cries as you walked into the group. They all surrounded Greef Karga, a nasty wound on his arm that Cara desperately tried to treat. That’s when you felt it. 

Looking down at the youngling in your arms, you could feel the cold, smooth touch of the Force tickle your skin like light wind. He whimpers softly, his tiny hand reaching towards the wounded man. Gently, you let him down beside Karga. Cara immediately reacted, trying to push the child away.

“No,” you say firmly. “Let him.”

Within a matter of seconds, Karga’s arm was healed and the child was back in your arms. Gently, you lay him into the bassinet, smiling softly at the youngling before sitting down in front of the floating egg. Looking towards Mando, you knew you didn’t have to look under his helmet to know he was shocked. With a soft smirk and a wink, you lean against the crib, falling into a light sleep. 

When daylight hit, all of you were back on your feet. As you approached the hunter’s city, Karga quickly revealed what the real plan was. To kill you and Mando. Instead, he killed his lackies.

“So what do we do now?” you ask through gritted teeth.  

“The Child won’t be left alone until the buyer is dead, so the hunters have no reason to keep following us.” Mando says from beside you.

“Well, I’ll pretend I captured you both.” Karga replies. “Bring you into the boss and then you kill him.”

“I’m coming with you, pretend that I helped capture you.” Cara adds.

Mando hands over his blaster, you following suit. But when it came to your saber, you became very hesitant, not wanting your last piece of Obi - Wan to fall into the wrong hands.

“C’mon, sweetheart, I ain’t got all day.” Karga says, holding out his hand. 

“Call me sweetheart again, you won’t see another day,” you reply quickly, tempted to pull out your saber and light it. 

You hear Mando chuckle softly from beneath the safety of his helmet. 

Slowly, you hand the saber over and let the pair of cuffs wrap around your wrists lightly. You follow Cara and Karga from behind, but you still peer behind you to make sure that Kuiil still has the child safe with him. 

-~-

To say your plan had gone smoothly would be a lie. Going from being in handcuffs to being holed up in the crumbling building was something you had seen coming yet you still walked right into. Using one of the tables as a shield, you listen as Moff Gideon tries to coax you into surrendering and leaving whatever safety the building was offering you. He goes on and on about his big gun, making you roll your eyes. But when he speaks of the Mandalorian, you stop and listen:

“Or perhaps the decommissioned Mandalorian hunter, Din Djarin-” 

Din Djarin. 

Din Djarin. 

It echoed in your head like a bad song. 

The screams of that day came back to you as if their ghosts were haunting you that very minute. Your brother, Din, holding your fragile body in his arms as your parents ushered you both into the bunker. Listening to the muffled sounds from outside making you squirm within yourself. The Mandalorian that saved you both, only to turn around and tear you apart.

“Din, no!” you remember screaming as another Mandalorian split you up.

“She’s my sister! I have to protect her!” Din screamed at the other soldier holding him. 

That’s how Obi - Wan had found you. The soldier you fought against for days had tracked him down to train you. A force sensitive child had no place in the new Mandalorian ranks. You never saw your brother after that day. 

You look at the metal mask now, wondering what your brother looked like now, after all these years. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you ask, tears streaming down your face at an alarming pace. 

“I couldn’t let you know, (Y/N). I would just put you in more danger.” he replies calmly. 

“But you practically begged me to join you!” you yell, jumping to your feet, your hand flying to your newly returned saber. “You kept me close enough and kept this lie from me!” 

“I wanted to tell you! But it never seemed like the right time!” 

“I would’ve gathered hear it from my own brother then the enemy!”

“Would you two calm down!” Karga yelled over both of you. “You can figure out this family squabble when we get outta here.”

Wiping away your tears, you distance yourself from the Mandalorian, watching the troops outside. Despite the mask, you could feel his eyes boring into you, most likely filled with regret. 

Part 2? 

Tag List: (leave a comment on the masterlist to be added) 

toribentleyva  mikariell95 edgy-wedgy-poo  tillytheslytherin  irishfaulk97 supergingerlocks  aeryn--sun  nedxwynert  forbidden-darkness

[mayquita]

Damn You For Making Me Love You (10/15) - All I Want For Christmas Is You (Wonderwall Part 2)

Thank you so so much, for your likes, reblogs, kudos and comments. It means the world to me.

Beta-Reader: Thank you so much, @ultraluckycatnd​​​ I couldn’t have asked for a better beta. Thank you for all your effort, your suggestions, your advice and for always being there when I needed you.

Special mention to @saraswans​​ and @onceuponaprincessworld​​​, thank you so much for your perpetual support and for believing in me and in the story. Thank you again to the moderators of the event, @captainswanbigbang​​​ for giving us this opportunity and making this possible. You all are the best :)

Summary: Emma Swan and Killian Jones are close friends and co-workers. And both are in love with each other. The problem? They keep their feelings secret not only to the other but also to the rest of their friends. When Elsa, Emma’s best friend and Liam, Killian’s brother and Emma’s boss find out, they decide to form an alliance and work as a team with a clear goal, to get Emma and Killian to take the next step in their relationship and confess their love for each other.

Rating: M

Word count: ~ 5800 (98k total in 15 chapters)

Ao3 / FFnet

About this chapter: We'll witness what happens the morning after the movie night. Also, this chapter includes one of the scenes I enjoyed writing the most and... a new performance. Or maybe two...

//

Chapter 9: All I Want For Christmas Is You (Wonderwall Part 2)

Elsa - December 2019

When Elsa woke up the next day she felt quite rested, despite having slept in a strange bed. After letting out a soft sigh, she snuggled under the covers, willing to make that feeling of contentment last a little longer before beginning her daily routine. It was then that she realized she was alone in bed.

Elsa raised her head, looking around through her narrowed eyes. There was no sign of Emma. Confused, she reached for her phone on the bedside table and checked the time. It was already eight in the morning, so it wasn't possible that Emma was still awake watching TV, right? Where the hell had her friend gone?

While Elsa waited for her brain to begin to function properly, her eyes wandered around the bedroom. Although Emma didn't seem to have spent the night there, Elsa did find her friend's touch in different details within the room. The closet was partially filled with her clothes. There was a framed picture of Emma with the two Jones brothers on the bedside table, and a few more photos hanging on the walls, all of them taken by Emma. She had even brought one of her favorite blankets here. Elsa also found other clothing and objects belonging to Emma scattered around the room. This may officially be the guest room, but unofficially, it seemed to have become Emma's room.

Her lips moved upward, drawing a pleasant smile as a wave of affection towards her friend washed over her, further improving her mood. But the initial question remained in the air. Where was Emma? Perhaps she and Killian had taken their reconciliation a step further, finally deciding to confess their feelings. Maybe Emma was now sharing someone else's bed. Maybe... She needed to find Liam and find out what had happened.

Just as she got up hurriedly from the bed ready to go in search of Liam, she realized her current situation. She was only wearing a large t-shirt that fell just to the top of her thighs. Her hair was a mess, her usual braid almost undone. She didn't even remember if she had removed her makeup before falling asleep the night before. A sudden surge of heat seized her as her stomach fluttered. It was definitely necessary to go to the bathroom and make sure she was presentable enough before appearing in front of Liam.

Half an hour later, Elsa left the bathroom feeling even better than when she had woken up. She was grateful that Liam, before saying good night with a soft kiss on the cheek, had made sure to show her the bathroom closest to her bedroom, as well as given her clothes for her not only to sleep in, but to wear the next day. Emma definitely had quite a wardrobe in that apartment, something that didn't surprise Elsa in the least, since she spent much of her free time there.

The hopes that Emma and Killian had finally decided to share a bed vanished when Elsa passed through the living room. She found the two of them cuddling on the couch, sound asleep. Well, it might not be a bed, but they had still slept together, hadn't they? It seemed that the night had brought the matchmaking duo a tiny success after all.

There was a blanket covering them, so that could only mean that Liam had not only let them sleep there but had made sure they were warm enough. She couldn't wait to talk to him.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee penetrating her nostrils was the clue she needed to find him. Elsa headed towards the kitchen with a mixture of feelings bubbling inside her; excitement due to the small advance in their plan, but also nervousness and another feeling that she still did not dare to name, that had taken residence in her stomach every time she was in Liam's presence.

The bright smile that appeared on Liam's face when his eyes fell on her did nothing to calm the flutter in her stomach, but rather the opposite.

"Good morning, lass. Did you sleep well?" Although his face still carried the vestiges of sleep, he was really handsome today, with his curly hair still damp after showering and with a special glow in his eyes.

"Good morning. I slept quite well, especially considering that I didn't have to share a bed." Elsa offered him a knowing smile as she tilted her head slightly pointing at the living room. "I'm not sure how they will take the fact that we let them sleep on the couch after they did wake us up last night, though."

After shrugging, Liam gave her a smile laced with mischief. "They're used to it. It’s not the first time they’ve fallen asleep on that couch. Besides, I don't think they mind at all."

She smiled back. He was right, of course. After a brief pause, Liam's eyes widened slightly, as if he were remembering something. "I just made coffee, would you fancy a cup?" He raised his hand holding a smoking mug. "Any special preferences for breakfast?"

"Just coffee for me, thanks. I'm afraid I should leave soon so I won't be late for a meeting." Only then did she realize that they had arrived here in Emma's car, so Elsa would have to find an alternative way to get to her apartment. She bit her lower lip as she cast a sidelong glance in the direction of Liam, who was already pouring the hot liquid into a mug. The flutter in her stomach intensified at the possibility of asking Liam for help, since that would mean spending even more time with him. They would have time to plot the next step in their plan, right? There was no other reason at all.

"Since I suppose you drove here in Emma's car, do you need me to take you somewhere? Just say the word and I will be all yours, love." Elsa felt her cheeks blush, a warm sensation spreading through her body as her heart skipped a beat.

"I don't want to impose."

"I don't have to go to the bar until much later, lass. It will be my pleasure," he added as he handed her the mug, a radiant smile across his lips.

"Thank you, I may take your offer then." She then put the mug to her lips to hide the stupid smile that she was pretty sure had appeared on her face.

She hastened to take a sip of her coffee, hoping that the ingested liquid would inject some reason into her to prevent her from continuing to behave like a teenager with her first crush. Just then a sound coming from the other side of the wall caught their attention, both turning their heads at the same time. It seemed that the lovebirds had woken up.

"Here we go..." Liam muttered and then put a finger to his lips, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

Elsa did not hesitate to emulate Liam, keeping silent as she pricked up her ears to catch any sound coming from the living room. Her lips curved into a small smile at the thought of the picture they were offering, two adults in their thirties — well, Liam was already closer to forty — acting as matchmakers and trying to go unnoticed while spying on the subjects of their plan.

Killian and Emma may behave like children too many times, but since this whole plan had begun, she also felt like a girl, at least she was enjoying it as such. It was undeniable that her life had given a twist in recent weeks. What at first had meant nothing more than the attempt to push Emma and Killian together, had become something a little deeper and much more interesting. All this time plotting, carrying out new experiences, and getting closer to Liam had endowed Elsa with a new perspective on her own life. Now she could glimpse a promising future with endless possibilities.

She was also convinced that, although both Killian and Emma were two stubborn idiots who were unable to recognize what they had in front of their noses, they were reaching a point of no return. Their fight last night and their subsequent reconciliation — they had even ended up sleeping together on the couch — only reaffirmed Elsa's belief. There were many feelings dancing around, it was only a matter of time before they finally dared to confess them to each other.

"Bloody hell..." Killian's slightly hoarse voice came clearly through the wall along with a series of curses and groans. "I can't feel my damn arm, Swan."

Emma's voice also reached her ears, but Elsa was unable to understand a single word. It was more like a noise mixture of a whine and babble, something usual from Emma at this time of day. 

Elsa and Liam exchanged glances, an amused smile pulling at his lips as she stifled a chuckle.

After what seemed like a brief talk through barely audible whispers in which Elsa caught only a few unrelated words, she heard Emma's voice again. This time she had been able to at least elaborate with some intelligible words. "It's too early, why the hell did you wake me up?"

Killian let out a sigh that was audible even through the wall before answering. "Because, as much I don't mind serving as a mattress, my arm had gone numb and my neck was about to break."

"And why are we wrapped in a blanket? It's so hot here." This time it was Liam who had to stifle a laugh at Emma's constant complaints. It seemed that Elsa wasn't the only one used to her morning moody state.

"I'm afraid that's Liam's work. By the way, remind me not to wake up the idiot I have for a brother when he falls asleep again on the bloody couch."

"I'm sure he's listening to you right now. These walls are extra thin." Although her voice still carried the vestiges of the sleep, this time Elsa did understand Emma clearly. "And I can smell the aroma of fresh coffee."

They fell silent for a moment, just some muffled sound coming into the kitchen. Elsa thought they would be trying to get back to sleep again, although knowing Emma, that option was unlikely.

"We should go back to sleep. In a proper bed, if possible," Killian suggested, his unconvincing tone confirming Elsa's suspicions. It seemed that, like herself, Killian already knew that once Emma woke up, she wouldn't go back to sleep, since her top priority would be to ingest her morning dose of caffeine to be able to function as a person.

"I need my coffee first."

"You won't be able to fall asleep again if you drink coffee now." Killian insisted, although it was a lost cause.

"Go to bed if you want, Jones. But first, bring me a cup of coffee." Now Emma was using a bossy tone, but Killian knew how to deal with her, no doubt.

"You forgot something, Swan. You know, the magic word."

"Oh my god. What are we now, six?" Elsa didn't even need to see Emma to know she was rolling her eyes.

"Rather five," Liam muttered in her ear. Elsa was so engrossed in the conversation that she did not realize that he had approached her, invading her personal space and causing a chill down her spine. At the same time, she had to suppress an incipient laugh bubbling in the back of her throat due to the conversation happening in the living room. They were hilarious in their own style.

"Who is the one wanting coffee, Swan?"

"You are insufferable. I wonder why I decided to make up with you."

"Because I may be insufferable, but I'm also charming. So, where were we? Ah, yes. Ask me nicely, I know you can."

After a brief pause, Emma finally gave up. "Fine. Can you bring me a cup of coffee, please?"

Although Emma didn't even bother to hide the mocking tone in her voice, Killian didn't seem to mind. "As you wish, milady."

Elsa didn't miss the fact that Liam moved away from her a little, keeping his distance with her again, probably in anticipation of his brother's appearance. Before Killian arrived though, Liam shared with her a knowing look and then winked at her, making her stomach flutter. She was beginning to find herself in trouble with this man. Luckily, Killian's arrival in the kitchen distracted her from those thoughts, although she was aware that she would have to deal with them sooner or later.

"Morning," Killian grumbled. If Killian was surprised to find them together in the kitchen he didn't show it. He simply walked towards the coffee maker without making eye contact with any of them.

Liam seemed to have woken up with his joking side activated, because he didn't hesitate to continue teasing his brother. "Did you sleep well, little brother?"

"No thanks to you, old man," Killian snapped this time looking at Liam with a defiant attitude, his brows furrowed and a small pout on his lips. Although it was evident that he was trying to show an intimidating expression, he was failing spectacularly since his face still had sleep marks, his eyes were partially swollen and his hair completely disheveled. He looked even younger wearing those grumpy features.

Just then, Killian seemed to realize Elsa’s presence. His features softened immediately as he directed one of his trademark smiles at her. "Good morning, lass. I hope my brother has offered you more than coffee for breakfast."

"He did, in fact, but I declined because I have to leave soon."

"Ah. I completely forgot that the rest of the world has normal work schedules. I'm going to get Emma so you can both leave soon." Although Elsa detected a hint of disappointment in his voice, Elsa was grateful for his genuine offer.

"No, it's not necessary. You better get Emma her coffee if you don't want her to come and get it herself. Liam has already offered to drive me to my apartment."

"He has, now?" Killian raised an eyebrow at his brother, a playful tone evident in his voice.

"I think someone is waiting for her coffee," Liam replied clearly trying to change the subject. Elsa wasn't sure if she liked it or if she felt disappointed. She would have time to think about it later.

Killian's eyes flicked from Elsa to Liam, an expression of suspicion on his face. After shaking his head slightly, he turned around and began to carry out the entrusted task.

Elsa watched closely as he reached for a specific mug on the shelf, the one decorated with little ducklings. He didn't hesitate to prepare coffee just as Emma liked it and also grabbed a package of pop-tarts, intended, she suspected, for her friend.

A warm sensation ran through Elsa’s veins up to her heart as her lips drew a soft smile. It was obvious that Emma had found her place in this apartment. Not only did the guest room have traces of her everywhere, but she had left her mark on every room in one way or another. The fact that Emma had a mug destined exclusively for her and that Killian knew perfectly how she liked her coffee only reaffirmed her appreciation. Elsa couldn't be happier for her friend and also grateful that Emma had found someone else who understood her so well and was so willing to take care of her in every way. She deserved it.

//

Emma - December 2019

Although there were still several minutes to go on stage, the nerves had begun to grip Emma's stomach. She had never felt so nervous, not even the first time she had taken the stage several weeks ago.

It was somewhat exhilarating, like a whirlwind of adrenaline running through her veins in anticipation of what was about to happen. Because this time, Emma wouldn't sing just one song accompanying Killian, she also had something special prepared, a surprise for Killian, well, and for everyone really, since only she and the sound technician who had collaborated with her in secret knew what was going to happen on stage.

Maybe the Christmas spirit was also contributing to that state of constant excitement. In just a few days they would be celebrating the holiday. In fact, this Saturday was the last one before Christmas so the Kraken exuded a magical and festive atmosphere, perfect for what she had planned.

Emma should be terrified but instead of feeling her stomach clenched in knots of fear, she felt a flutter of anticipation. She should feel her heart constricted in her chest, not that frantic heartbeat or that tingling of her skin that pushed her to act regardless of the consequences for once.

There would be consequences, she was sure of it. She had refused to analyze those possible repercussions of her plan, but she had wondered if Killian could grasp its true meaning or read too much about it. There was only one way to find out, although she would still have to wait a little longer for that. 

She needed a distraction and taking pictures wasn't helping in that regard today. After glancing around her, she noticed that the bar was crowded so, without thinking twice, she went behind the counter to lend a hand. If that helped Killian before his performances, it might help her too, right?

It worked. She really enjoyed the frantic activity behind the bar on these kinds of nights where everyone worked in a kind of chaotic harmony, coordinating when preparing drinks and engaging in brief conversations with customers. It was a good form of distraction since she managed to park her thoughts while focusing on her task. She didn't even realize that Liam was leaving his position to go to the stage and announce Killian's impending performance.

Emma's eyes moved around the bar area until she spotted Elsa, who was on the stool that seemed to be reserved just for her lately, the one that was closest to the area assigned to Liam. Emma waved at her friend and then she hurriedly made a gesture to Robin to cover her place while grabbing the camera and heading to her normal spot next to the stage. Killian was already there, guitar in hand, an expression of concentration on his face. The moment he saw her, his lips drew up in a radiant smile, the one he kept just for her.

She responded in the usual way, melting into a tight embrace before placing a soft kiss on his cheek and wishing him luck. Not that he really needed it, but she preferred to keep the tradition intact, treasuring these little intimate moments between them. Then, she slipped through the crowd to her favorite spot, just in front of the stage, to take the best pictures.

By the time his performance began, she knew that this wasn't going to be her best photographic work. The concentration seemed to have left her, making her unable to focus through the viewfinder, as her eyes inevitably drifted toward Killian and his ability to attract attention.

To say that Killian was brilliant tonight was an understatement. His melodic voice enveloped her like a warm breeze. His presence on the stage was mesmerizing and the energy radiating from his performance came in waves, making her vibrate in excitement. Only when the audience began to roar around her, clapping and cheering, did Emma realize that the concert had reached its peak. Killian was about to introduce her.

Here we go…

Maybe the song chosen was somewhat intimidating with its not so subtle meaning, but if the rehearsals of the last few days were any indication, this performance might become the best of them so far. She was impressed with the musical arrangement in which he had worked to turn the song into an acoustic version, making them sound pretty damn well accompanied only by his guitar.

The rehearsals had become her favorite moments of the week, as she had the possibility not only to spend more time with Killian, but also to express through music what she didn't dare to confess aloud yet. These past few days had been especially interesting in that regard.

Something had changed between them after their special moment last Monday. It wasn't an obvious change, but rather an impression; a sensation that had settled in Emma's stomach and appeared every time the smile he offered her lingered on his lips, or when she detected a hint of longing in his eyes. 

She was behaving like a coward, she was aware. Instead of talking about it, she decided to act as if nothing had happened even though she was dying of desire to carry out a new intimate encounter that would allow her to continue exploring, tasting, feeling. He also didn't seem particularly inclined to bring up the subject, which didn't disappoint Emma, since she had the feeling that he was simply waiting for her, so Emma would make the next move. Maybe her surprise tonight would allow them to move a little forward in their relationship. Or maybe she was completely wrong. There was only one way to find out, but for that, she had to get on stage first.

"Enjoy up there, Emma, you're gonna rock it." Elsa's unexpected voice beside her managed to startle Emma, bringing her back to reality. "And give me the camera, honey. You won't need it up there, but I might use it to capture some magical moments." Emma's heart swelled to see that once again her friend would be by her side not only to support her and cheer her up but also to help her with something as simple as reminding her that she couldn't get on stage with the camera still hanging around her neck.

"Thank you." Emma's lips curled in a smile of gratitude as she offered Elsa the camera. Then they both turned, looking at Killian, who remained silent waiting for the applause from the audience to subside.

"Thank you all. You are the best!" The crowd began to shout again so Killian had to make a gesture with his hands to ask for silence. "And now if you allow me, it's time to present the stellar performance of the night. As many of you already know, we asked for your collaboration to help us choose the next song. Thank you to everyone for visiting our website and participating in the poll. The song chosen couldn't be more appropriate." Killian's gaze shifted for a moment to Emma before continuing. "Good job guys!" he shouted, giving a brief round of applause to the audience. His charisma was undeniable. There was no doubt that he knew how to have people eating out of his hand, since she could feel the excitement around her for what was about to happen.

"And now, without further delay, I ask you for the best cheers for the incomparable and incredibly talented Emma Swan!"

Emma supposed she would get used to his introductions someday, but that wasn't going to happen today. She vaguely felt the cheerings of the people accompanying her on her way to the stage. A wave of emotions rose in her chest not only because of his words, but because of the way his gaze bored into hers as if there was no one else around. 

While walking towards the stage, Emma took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She was greeted upstairs by Killian, who wrapped her in a brief hug as he whispered words of encouragement in her ear. They exchanged an intense look before she nodded almost imperceptibly. She was ready.

The first chords of the song had the magical effect of making all her thoughts disappear for a few minutes, while she focused on the music that surrounded her and Killian's reassuring presence at her side. His presence conveyed enough confidence for the both of them so she wouldn't be afraid not only of the performance itself, but of relaying the meaning of the song.

 I don't want a lot for Christmas There is just one thing I need I don't care about the presents Underneath the Christmas tree I just want you for my own More than you could ever know Make my wish come true oh All I want for Christmas is you

 She was experiencing something magical, something electric on stage. Their two voices blended together to create an almost perfect melody while the sound of the guitar provided the scene of an intimate aura. Mariah Carey's voice was incomparable, she hadn't even considered trying to emulate her. But that didn't stop her from feeling powerful up there, capable of everything with Killian next to her. Certainly all she wanted for Christmas - and for the rest of her life - was to keep Killian by her side.

The applause and cheers of the crowd became almost deafening when they sang the last notes of the song and melted into a new hug, letting themselves be caressed by the vibrant sensation that the lively audience sent them.

The feeling of being on stage surrounded by Killian's arms was so indescribable that she almost wished it was a dream she never woke up from.

You don't need a dream, Emma. This is real.

The voice of her conscience was right. It was hard to believe sometimes, but everything she was experiencing lately was real. So real that it was even overwhelming, especially if she thought about what was about to happen.

Although reluctant, she finally turned away from Killian, ready to carry out her next mission. After offering him a small smile, she raised her hand still holding the microphone and addressed the audience quickly, giving herself no time to have second thoughts.

"Thank you all!" she shouted, earning new applause, which gave her time to calm her agitated breathing. The same thing did not happen with her heart, though, since it was pounding as if it were going to beat out of her chest. Come on Emma, just do it! "There is one last song today, as a gesture of appreciation for all your support." Emma turned her head slightly in search of Killian, who was watching her closely with an expression of confusion on his face. "I also wanted to take advantage of this moment and dedicate this song to this guy over there." She gestured towards him, earning a new ovation from the public. "You know the reason, Jones. This is for you."

After taking a deep breath, she made a subtle nod with her head towards the sound technician and then focused her gaze on Killian, who remained motionless in the middle of the stage. It was pretty awesome to see how his features changed in recognition as the first chords of the song began to resonate around them.

Today is gonna be the day That they're gonna throw it back to you By now you should've somehow Realized what you gotta do I don't believe that anybody Feels the way I do, about you now

Emma did not know how she managed to keep moving forward with the song despite Killian's scrutiny. He did not seem able to look away from her while wearing an expression she would swear was one of adoration. But somehow she did it, she managed to finish without her voice barely faltering.

I said maybe, you're gonna be the one that saves me And after all, you're my Wonderwall.

Killian didn't even wait for the music to end. He rushed to her suddenly, pulling her into his arms and burying his face in the crook of her neck. Everything else ceased to exist around her, it was just her and him and all those uncontrollable feelings simmering inside her. "You're bloody brilliant, Swan," he whispered into her ear, causing a trail of goosebumps down her skin as her stomach fluttered due to the incredible sensation of his body against hers.

She hoped that Elsa was capturing the scene with her camera to make it eternal. It was the thought about Elsa that managed to break the spell, while Emma slowly returned to reality, although the adrenaline still ran wild in her veins. With great effort, she disentangled herself from Killian and, showing off her professionalism, she once again addressed the public.

"That's it, guys! Don't forget to visit our website and vote in the new poll that we will upload tomorrow. Merry Christmas to all!"

While the audience broke into applause again, she placed the microphone on its stand and then grabbed Killian's hand, who remained motionless on stage, his expression of awe still lingering on his face. She entwined her hand with his and gently pulled him, prompting him to move.

Both Liam and Elsa were waiting for them on the side of the stage, with bright smiles and sparkling eyes. The moment they were close enough, Killian and Emma were engulfed by their arms while they kept repeating words of praise for both of them, but especially for Emma and her remarkable performance.

Emma was grateful, she really was, but she still felt on top of the world, her need to express her emotions still latent in her body, pushing her to act. That's why, when Killian excused himself and headed to the office to put away the guitar, Emma didn't hesitate to follow him.

She would blame the adrenaline that hadn't yet left her body, or that whirlwind of emotions that had found a way out and now it was impossible to stop it, or she could even blame the tiniest amount of alcohol ingested when she had taken a gulp of the beer that Elsa was holding a minute earlier. Whatever it was, she decided to be guided by her impulses, and listen to both her heart and her body.

The moment when the office door closed behind them, she pushed Killian against the smooth surface and, finally — finally — she pressed her lips to his.

To his credit, after the initial shock, Killian did not hesitate to respond to the kiss, dropping the guitar and circling her waist with one arm while his other hand tangled in her hair, his lips looking for hers almost desperately.

Whatever she had imagined she would feel when she finally kissed Killian, she certainly would never have expected this. The sense of deja-vu she had experienced on other occasions appeared intensified again to the point that her head began to spin as her knees weakened.

It was like old memories that had remained hidden in the back of her mind had finally found their way to emerge, crowding in her head in flashes, causing the incredible sensation of his lips on hers to intensify.

He moaned against her mouth, the delicious sound sending a surge of heat toward her core as he cradled her head through her hair and his teeth nibbled at her lower lip. She angled her head, her lips parting slightly in a clear invitation, finally allowing their tongues to begin their first dance together. It was at that moment that the deja-vu sensation grew even stronger, causing her to gasp into his mouth as her eyes widened in surprise, the realization of the meaning of those memories too powerful to be ignored.

Her lips parted from his but she found herself unable to break contact at all, her arms around his neck and her forehead pressed against his as she tried to catch her breath, her heart thudding frantically. She closed her eyes again in an attempt to stop the flashes of her memory from coming and to keep her head from spinning. 

Gathering the little energy she still retained, she made a great effort to move her head to look at him. He seemed positively wrecked, his wide eyes giving him an expression of bewilderment, although Emma wasn't sure if it was due to the unexpectedness of the kiss or the possible fact that he had also remembered. Whatever it was, she wasn't willing to find out, at least not for now.

"That was..." he murmured, his warm breath caressing her lips and doing nothing to calm her inner agitation.

"A one-time thing."

She dropped her arms and looked away to avoid catching his reaction. "I can't do this now, Killian," she muttered, aware that it didn't sound convincing at all but unable to cope with the situation. "I need to go." Emma didn't care about the pleading tone in her voice. She needed to leave that room before she did anything else she would regret.

Killian seemed to catch the hint as he remained silent, moving away from the door to allow her to open it. She quietly left the room but wasn't able to make much progress. Only when the door closed behind her did she stop her advance, leaning against the nearest wall, completely overwhelmed by what just happened, but above all by the perception that she was making the biggest mistake of her life.

One thing was certain. She had blatantly lied. 

No way that kiss would be a one-time thing.

There was a reason that invalidated that statement. That kiss would never be a one-time thing, not when they had shared another kiss before. The realization might have shaken her whole body but at least she had managed to recover a memory that had remained hidden, unreachable to the point that she hadn't even been sure it existed. Now her mind kept reliving not only that scene but also the wonderful weekend that had preceded that moment.

She realized how her mind clouded by alcohol had denied her the ability to treasure that memory, offering only tiny fragments she imagined belonged simply to a dream; a pleasant one, but imaginary after all. It had never crossed her mind that those little pieces were actually the way her brain tried to make her remember since the idea of not remembering her first real kiss with Killian was too frustrating to consider.

There was another reason contrary to her previous words.

She might have panicked. She seemed unable to cope with the escalation of feelings and sudden memories gathering in her mind. But one thing was certain, now that she knew what it was like to kiss Killian, she didn't think she would be able to resist. Not when her whole body still vibrated, craving more. Not when her heart was still hammering in her chest, finally free of the barrier that protected it. Not when her mind was beginning to accept that she had a chance to be happy with Killian.

A heavy sigh escaped between her lips as she closed her eyes and rubbed her temples in an attempt to curb the spiral of thoughts swirling in her head. Even so, she couldn't prevent one question from standing out above all others. Would Killian also have remembered thanks to their shared kiss, or would he have kept that memory for himself all this time?

//

Thanks for reading. Let me know what you think :)

What to expect in the next chapter? Welcome to Storybrooke...

[javic-piotr-thane]

Torchwood Soho - the entire VORTEX article

TORCHWOOD HAS had the honour of being populated by larger than life characters over the years. We’ve met Captain Jack Harkness and Yvonne Hartman, plus Gwen Cooper, Toshiko Sato, Owen Harper and Susie Costello on television. And Big Finish has given us Mr Colchester, Ng and Orr – as well as the one and only Norton Folgate.

We had a glimpse of bygone Torchwood in 2018’s audio release, Goodbye Piccadilly, in which Norton dragged his friend Sergeant Andy Davidson back in time to Soho in the 1950s. And now we turn back the clock again to witness Norton accompanied by Andy in Torchwood Soho. Tom Price reprises his role as Andy, joining Samuel Barnett (Dirk Gently in the BBC series) as Norton. Gangsters are vanishing from the streets of Soho, there’s a deadly Nazi secret on the loose, and something’s moving in the smog. Norton Folgate should be sorting this out, but the Torchwood agent is in disgrace. Who’s going to save London this time?

Torchwood Soho – Parasite contains six stories: The Man From Room 13, Meet Mr Lyme, The Mould, The Spread, The Dead Hand and The Liberty of Norton Folgate.

Vortex asks writer/producer James Goss at what point did he think that Andy and Norton should get their own series? James explains: “Actually, everyone’s been so kind about the relationship between Norton and Andy, that it really didn’t take much arm-twisting to convince Big Finish to let us spend three blissful days in studio with Sam and Tom.

“The fabulous thing about Torchwood as a franchise is that it spans a huge period, and there are chunks of it that are just worth exploring. We vaguely glimpsed 1950s Torchwood in the Doctor Who TV episode, The Idiot’s Lantern, and this new release is a real peep under the murky, awful bonnet.”

James has been particularly pleased by the reception Norton has had from listeners: “Thrilled, blown away, boggled – and that’s just in reaction to some of the fan art on Tumblr! Seriously, it’s weird to have sort of created a Torchwood character that wasn’t on TV who the Big Finish listeners are dying to hear more of and who has a following of his own. I’d love to say it’s all down to the writing, but really it’s down to Sam’s performance and his rapport with Tom. They’re just audio magic, aren’t they?

“As it’s set in the 1950s, it was obvious to follow the rhythm of the Quatermass serials – so there are six half-hour episodes. And, in the tradition of Quatermass, we start out in an office and end with the world in peril.

“We get to see Norton hunting down alien artefacts stolen by Nazis, escaping from a timetravelling pub, and battling zombies in Margate. We get to meet Norton’s boss (played by Dervla Kirwan) and the hapless leader of Torchwood Soho (David Troughton) – who both share a terrible secret. And we get to discover why Torchwood hid the Skylon at the Festival of Britain. Norton’s also trying to avoid the attentions of a journalist (played by Joe Shire) who is determined to uncover what Torchwood is. Norton’s in a whole lot of trouble – and this time he needs Andy to help him.”

Scott Handcock has been responsible for directing the series. How did he find bringing this volume – effectively a period piece – to life? He grins: “Maybe it’s just because I’ve done a lot of Doctor Who, where you’re constantly flitting all over space and time, but I’m not sure I really register the difference! Obviously, you’re aware of the period and need to convey that in the world you build and characters you cast, but it’s the same approach as creating a civilisation of reptilian aliens in the far future. The script sets up the rules and everyone plays by them. If anything, period pieces are often a bit easier because everyone has a frame of reference. Though having said that, it also means you have to really do your homework.

“The 50s is a fascinating period. Yes, you have a bit more Received Pronunciation – especially with Norton, who throws in a dash of Polari every so often – but there’s a lovely mix of characters in this script, covering various classes and backgrounds. Belle Epoch (gloriously portrayed by Franchi Webb) is a character who you could probably only bring to life in this era. People own those identities more – a lot of them are hiding things and putting up barriers – which makes characters like Andy and Gideon more relatable as our identification figures.”

Tom Price is delighted that not only does Sergeant Andy continue to feature in Torchwood, but he’s also a series lead. He admits: “The listeners really like what Big Finish is doing with Torchwood, which means we can rock up and do more. It’s amazing that the world of Torchwood has been built on good foundations and we can keep adding to it.

“I watched The X Files back in the day, and Star Trek: The Next Generation, as they can reboot and keep going forever and ever. If something is built well, it will last, and that’s exactly what’s happening with Torchwood. It’s got a good engine, and you can tweak it here and there so we can take the cast and put them into a new setting.

“Norton is such a great personality – he was never on TV and I think Sam Barnett is slightly annoyed about that! Characters like him have just got that thing, where they’re big and funny and very memorable.

“I love our team of Scott and James. James is a magnificent writer – he has such a brilliant ear for a story and putting these worlds together. If he was writing music he would be Guy Chambers! And Scott understands the characters better than you or I do. A lot of directors throw way too much stuff at you, but Scott has a good hand on the tiller and will give you a couple of points that can change your performance. I just love going into this created world, and having such fun.”

SCOTT ENJOYS the dynamic between Sam and Tom, in particular. He says: “I think it’s fair to say that Sam and Tom hit it off instantly. Even before Ghost Mission (their first Torchwood together), they met at the recording of Doctor Who: Nightshade and it was clear they enjoyed working together – and that’s only grown the more we’ve done. There’s a shorthand between them that comes from having recorded a lot together, and that trust means they can push the material further. It also means when we get new characters coming in, and the actors see what Sam and Tom are bringing to it, they relax and feel able to give that little bit extra, which is kind of what you need when you’re projecting an entire performance through your voice.”

Scott adds: “It’s a lovely change of pace for Torchwood. I remember the old BBC Sexton Blake dramas, and that slightly pulpy, serialised style they had, so when James first mooted this I suggested we do it as a six-part serial of half-hour episodes. It moves along at one hell of a lick! And as always with James’s scripts, the humour is contrasted with some genuine horror and drama. It’s a really strong character piece and, as a director, has some fantastic set pieces that test you as you leap around the schedule. One of the biggest highlights was getting Dervla Kirwan in to play Lizbeth Heyhoe. She fell in love with the script and said it’s absolutely the kind of part she’d never get seen for on screen – and we just had an absolute blast. It was our first Big Finish together, though obviously when I had to recast Miss Quill in Class, she was my immediate first choice. She’s simply amazing. The entire cast just got it…”

And James concludes: “Honestly, it was just three days of bliss in a studio with a great set of actors.” VORTEX

[duckyaltalt]

「herman tommeraas & cis male」⇾ mercer, ducky, the junior radcliffe student’s records show that he is a pisces and 21 years old. he is studying business, living in gorham and can be tenderhearted, nimble, compliant & taciturn. when i see him i am reminded of fear hidden behind a stoic stare, bleeding from your nose and from your gums, and the night sky with all its stars, with all its mystery and unknown . ⇽「james & 21 & est & they/them.」

hi :D this is the last of my OG characters ... the next two will b sexy n new bt they wont arrive fr a while bc i <3 need 2 hv a steady pace <3 anyways hes. rly sad so. good luck charlie <3 okay bye :D

TW CHILD ABUSE / DOMESTIC ABUSE / ABUSE, VIOLENCE, INJURY, TRAUMA, MENTAL ILLNESS, DRUGS / DRUG ABUSE / ADDICTION , GANGS.

aesthetic.

bruises; from beneath your eyes to the edge of your jaw, aligned against your stomach and the sides of your waist and the groves of your knuckles. bleeding noses and bleeding gums, spat out teeth, tattoos scarred from improper treatment, a facial scar; jagged and old, now, from above your eye to beneath your lip. worn hoodies and scuffed sneakers, sunglasses inside. the night sky, and it’s many stars, and how brightly they shone during the 2019 blackout, and wanting to be up there, with them. knowing constellations by heart. wishing to be the face on the moon. beer bottles and secret exchanges. dark alleys. fear, through the very core of your heart. fear, hidden behind a stoic stare.

basic info.

full name: donovan mercer

nickname(s): ducky but i’m 95% sure he hates the nickname it’s just. Stuck with him.

b.o.d. - march 15th, pisces :)

label(s): the allegiant, the despondent, the grifter, the malleable, the vacant, etc.

height: 5′11″

hometown: hell’s kitchen, new york

sexuality: bisexual bt make it closeted.

pinterest

stats

inspired by: lip gallagher (shameless), freddie mcclair (skins), frankenstein’s monster (frankenstein), fez (euphoria) … that’s it i don’t know any other characters KJNSGLDNVLSDJNFDS

biography.

born in hell’s kitchen to vinny mercer and a mother who ran out of the hospital as fast as she could, as soon as she was able. she’d gone so quick that she’d never given ducky a middle name - just donovan. the younger brother of mercy (shoutout 2 bri)

his father’s the right-hand man of a well known mob boss named lars amaretto, and so, you can imagine the kind of environment ducky (& mercy) grew up in. weapon & drug dealings, interrogations, violence around every corner. a brutal way of living, no place to raise two children.

you can correctly assume that they grew up in a heavily abusive environment, and can imagine the sort of things the two have gone through. ducky was, maybe, the least favorite of their father’s -

- for numerous reasons, and one being that ducky’d always been a sensitive kid. kinder than his brother, and far kinder than his father - kindness is weakness, and ducky was filled with it. too much so, with big brown eyes and a smile that should’ve been able to melt ice. should’ve - but didn’t. and never did, either.

he cried often, and was punished often for it until he learned to stop crying - at least in front of their father, and mercy too, at some point. only in the comfort of his room, with doors locked and blinds drawn closed.

he dreamed, too, dreamt often. he’d been obsessed with outer space since childhood, as long as he could remember. school had once shown man landing on the moon, and ducky wanted that. wanted to be that, wanted to be there, up with the stars, discovering the unthinkable.

but it was discouraged, heavily so - projects destroyed by an angry fist only to be reconstructed to the best of ducky’s ability, with mercy’s help, all throughout the night. he’d saved up for a telescope when he was thirteen, but it’d been destroyed almost immediately when discovered. not a day went by that their father didn’t tell ducky that he was, first and foremost, stupid - and would always be.

to the point where he stopped trying, simply. his grades fluctuated frequently, and it’s a surprise that he hadn’t dropped out of high school altogether.

anyways … at the age of fifteen, he’d have enough. he was sick of the abuse, the pain - the crying behind closed doors, the sneaking around, the constant feeling of needing to escape, impending doom, anxiety attacks in the shower and in school bathrooms and at the back of the bus where nobody sat besides him because he was - that boy, the son of that man, the brother of that brute. he’d been a teenager and he’d already been an outcast by all means - an outcast in his family, no matter how hard he tried to appease vinny, and an outsider everywhere else.

the plan took months of preparation, paper ripped out from the back of his school notebook and stuffed beneath his mattress, details of his escape from a checklist of essential items to makeshift maps of bus routes to different cities.

all for nothing, the moment vinny discovered it, the edge of a map sticking out after a rushed morning.

it’d been the same day he’d gotten the nickname - ducky - the way the wound wrapped below his mouth, and the way it’d begun to heal - puckered, at first, like a duck’s bill. a better name than eyepatch, at the very least. the scar’d run from the arch of his left brow, across his eye, down his cheek, and below his lip, the entire left side of his face a bloody mess afterwards. his eye sustained injury, and not allowed to see a doctor about it, it never healed properly. corneal scarring, impairing his left eye. astronaut dreams destroyed, but not in a matter of seconds. in the matter of an hour, maybe more - and that’d been much, much worse.

he stopped trying to run away after that. tried to be more like their father, more like mercy - more brutish, less feeling. spoke less, and less. spoke hardly at all, unless spoken to first.

still didn’t matter. still lived his days in fear, still knew it’d never change. nothing would ever change.

graduated high school and had been on-and-off attending community college since then. he’d miss days at a time, flunk an entire semester’s worth of classes - gpa dropped further and further. wanted to try, but life got in the way. always got in the way.

hadn’t intended on transferring to radcliffe, but their father’d been missing for a few months then, leaving ducky to handle the drugs side of their business in hell’s kitchen - and mercy’d disappeared, too, leaving their branch in lovell completely open. in a split decision - an opportunity, and opening - something he couldn’t miss, or he’d maybe never get the opportunity again, ducky bullshitted a scholarship essay (plagiarism, tsk) and transferred to pick up where mercy’d left.

this wasn’t very well thought out, because that meant there were no mercers in new york - and lars amaretto? not a very understanding man. more of a brute than their father was, by far. to keep a story short - ducky is missing a tooth (molar, luckily, this time) and is … more rough’d up than he’d like to be, for sure. but mercy’s back, now, and he’s still at lovell, at radcliffe.

and that’s enough.

UPDATE: heehaw. mercy is gone & ducky’s still here. feeling a bit lost - dealt with a lot of shit this summer, new wounds and old wounds and just. a lot. started an underground fight club on campus for some extra cash, reasons unknown. being blackmailed by someone named rocky - someone who knows ducky is skimming cash. god. i don’t know ... danger danger danger danger. nightmare-ville. wrapped up in more walls than ever.

personality.

he’s actually very? intimidating? when you first meet him. mercy’s younger brother, with a criminal’s record almost as long as his - a scarred face and a mean resting face. it takes at least five minutes of conversation beyond small talk before it starts to weigh on your mind that maybe, he’s not as bad as he seems.

and - well, he isn’t. but he’s guarded - so guarded. more-so than mercy, because mercy’s quicker to anger, quicker to react, and ducky tries so hard to drown out the noise. but he’s not a robot, and his facial expressions can give him away in a second.

he’s seen what happened when mercy had a glimpse of something good in his life (though, it wasn’t actually good at all - mercy had someone, at least. at the very least) - and how quickly it’d all fallen, and so ducky puts a barrier between him and others. distant, as much as he can be.

it hurts, because ducky isn’t by any means antisocial. he doesn’t hate people - he wants to be normal, wants to have friends and a girlfriend - or maybe even a boyfriend, god - but he’s so afraid. ducky is, by nature, a very scared person. terrified to his very core. he knows there is always eyes on him, and mercy too, and he knows that nothing is worth getting someone else hurt.

you know him as mercy’s little brother, and he’s quiet you know that - but his name is ducky, and you think - he’s not too bad. and he knows this, knows the doubts. knows that it’ll get back to mercy, eventually, that his brother is nothing more but a pussy. so he fights more than he’d like to, against the guilt that buries itself deep within his chest with every thrown fist. he throws up, afterwards, in the garbage can outside. too much to drink, he says, rare grin - because grins are convincing, and grins with bleeding gums are intimidating. he learned that from his brother.

violence makes him sick to his very stomach. he can’t watch horror films, or even action films, without feeling queasy. there’s been more times than he can count where he’d thrown up after a fight, or after an interrogation, usually in private but in the occasional presence of mercy.

they fight, a lot, sometimes - ducky’s too soft, too weak, and it’s bad and it’s terrible and ducky knows that mercy’s afraid. for him, of their father, and his wraith. ducky knows that if mercy isn’t hard on him now, their father will be harder - and his hits will be, too. still. there’s resentment, small but there, like the flame of a match. he doesn’t know what’ll happen when there’s nothing more to burn, but he doesn’t want to find out. he’s afraid to find out.

he’s still in love with the moon and the stars, and the planet’s - and their moons, too. its subdued, now, though. a silent passion - one that is often not watered, left for rot. he sneaks into engineering lectures, occasionally, or physics - or anything that isn’t business, because he hates his major, but he knows it’s the only chance he’s got to stay at radcliffe. and that’s to follow his brother, to follow his father. a business degree treats you well, teaches you skills you’ll need to know for this type of work.

commits small acts of kindness when nobody looks. doors held open, the meals of elderly folk eating alone suddenly paid. picks up litter besides trash bins, and always cooks extra than what he needs, only to leave it in the gorham community fridge with no name, something for somebody who may need it. it’s these small things that make him feel, just the slightest, better about himself.

because god - there are layers and layers of self-loathing, the result of years of abuse. it’s a labyrinth, and he’d never speak of it - but he can’t stand his own reflection. doesn’t keep photos of his family, only a few sparingly of mercy. his room is messy, but still oddly barren. nothing on the walls except for a poster or two, sheets a standard navy blue and a row of empty liquor bottles on his windowsill.

a liar, sad to say. has little experience with. ehem. intimacy, and the bodies of others, but lies often and says that he does. mostly to his brother, but word travels quick - and he’s not nearly as much as a fuckboy as is rumored, having only been with a handful of girls, if even that. it’s better this way - if people know that he throws others away like they’re nothing. sex is uncomfortable for him, he always feels gross afterwards. wrong, sometimes.

he ghosts often, too, if he does get to talking with anybody. the moment ducky feels a spark, something pulling at his poor heart, he ghosts. he develops feelings too easily, too often than he’d like. has left many friendships without explanation, because of this. you know the priest in fleabag season 2? the scene where he comes to fleabag’s house? yeah. tht’s ducky!

has maybe half the amount of clients that mercy does, but he’s working on it. it’s his first semester at radcliffe.

pretends he doesn’t care as much as he does. pretends a lot, like there’s nothing soft to him. but a trained eye can see clearly through this. even so - even if you can see that there’s more to ducky than violence and drug deals - you’d still have to break through a dozen walls.

in the rare occasion you get him talking - i mean, talking a lot - he’ll talk about space. ramble off a dozen useless facts about dwarf stars and black holes and all of jupiter’s moons. about a video game he likes, about nothing and everything at all. but as soon as he begins, he stops - embarrassed. apologizes, shuts his mouth, disappears to wherever. anywhere but there.

uuuhhh. god. okay so ducky’s got an addiction to xanax. it’s numbing and it’s better than feeling, and he’d rather this than that and it’s. a Thing. we won’t go further into it. besides that - he does smoke weed, does try out some of their products to make sure it’s not … fucked, for their clients, but otherwise fucking hates drugs. social drinker, but still doesn’t like it a lot. hates beer but drinks it often.

overall just … he’s a soft boy, with a big heart - bigger than anybody else in his family, that’s for sure, but his exterior is far different than that, and it’s hard to tell.

purposely loses fights so that he doesn’t have to severely hurt someone. because sometimes he just - he was raised in a violent environment, and sometimes he snaps. sometimes ducky just fucking snaps. and his vision goes red, and he can’t control himself - because need to survive kicks in, and violence is all he knows. if someone pushes ducky - pushes him enough, he breaks. he fights back. it’s all he knows. it’s all he knows. it’s all he knows, and that’s not an excuse - and he knows this, and god, he’s so tired. he is so. tired.

wanted connections.

clients… first n foremost. he needs people to deal to. i don’t think he handles the Hard Shit like mercy does, but like coke and mdma? works for him.

f…riend..s?… like it’s so hard for ducky to be sincere with people but if you don’t mind like … an emotionally distant man who doesn’t even hit 6′ then maybe? he’s your guy? maybe you can break him down a little? chip away at his cold shoulder?

a close…r friend… maybe not like. the best of friends. but at least one normal friend whose world does not revolve around fucking drugs and violence would be nice for ducky. someone he can be a little soft with, as a treat.

hook-ups… not many, because ducky doesn’t really enjoy sex too much but y’know. that’s just how it is. he do be having needs, tho. KDSJGSHDKLFSE god.

fisticuffs!… someone he got into a fistfight with. multiple people he’s gotten into fights with. he’s probably lost them (on purpose) but - mayhaps, some of them, he did not?

gorham roommate… god… i don’t know what these two cld get up to but! maybe give him a sexuality panic but who knows.

unrequited feelings… there’s probably a few of these. whether people are drawn to his fucking ~mysterious~ demeanor (he just has fucking anxiety, man) or mayhaps. mayhaps he has the feelings.

flirtations… he’s never been in a relationship so i can’t really include exes, but he can flirt with people i’d like to think … when he’s drunk. :-)

ghostees… everybody he’s ever fucking ghosted because he’s stupid and is afraid of both friendship and relationships and romance and platonic? feelings of warmth? so sometimes he panics and ghosts people forever. :) spite!

new yorkians… who are familiar with his family or the business they have there

enemies… god. i’m sure he has a lot of these even without attempting to make them. just like, by association, you know? sometimes ducky hates people because mercy does. sometimes he hates people because mercy likes them. JKSDGDSJGFSNLKF

i won’t lie i’m very tired and am having a Troubled Time coming up with connections please. bare with me.

annoyances… i don’t know if ducky can get annoyed very easily but? thorns in his side? something lighthearted? alternately, something Not lighthearted and then ducky :/ goes rogue JKDNGDSNLFK

idk something soft… literally anything soft. please :) give me something soft and cute :) and peaceful and not stressful :)

something ANGSTY and AWFUL… literally. i don’t know. duality of man.

ok i have been awake fr too long i’m going to bed goodnight.

[erintoknow]

a little victimless crime

Spiraling - A Fallen Hero: Rebirth Fan-fiction

Nothing like combining business and pleasure. [Do It All The Time] Originally: [bigger than the sound]

[Read on AO3]

It is as if you’re fighting with one arm behind your back.

When you originally conceived of this plan, you figured you’d use the villain suit sparingly. When infiltration as either Jane or some other possessed stooge wouldn’t cut it. Maneuver people into positions where you could plant suggestions, instill compulsions, weave a web of threads over the city with yourself at the center.

Argent’s possession has entered into your regular stable of nightmares. If that wasn’t enough, she’s hounding you at every turn, ensuring you can’t forget. Even pushing the mental commands, is starting to fray at you. Are you really any better than The Directive if you don’t let people think for themselves?

As long as they go down, does it matter?

“Ugh.”

Dr. Mortum frowns from across the table. “Is everything okay, mon amie?”

“Oh, sorry.” Jane grimaces as she looks up from the day planner in front of her. “I’m just trying to figure out how to – to fit all this shit into one week.”

“Mm.” She picks up her wine glass, eyes scanning the night’s crowd at Joes. “Your boss is running you ragged these days.”

“Tell me about it. Oh, that reminds me, I need to put in another order for more of that black 2.0 paint.” Jane groans, one hand holding her forehead as she scans the week for an open time slot. “Can’t believe how high-maintenance that damn suit is.”

“A problem with my work?”

“No, no, it’s the damn paint. The slightest scratch ruins the effect. And of course, I have to route the money to pay for it, through like, three shell companies.” She chews at the end of her pen, circles an open slot and jots the reminder in. “There, hope that’s enough time.”

How many lives are you living at this point? Jane with Mortum, Jane dating Ortega, Jane as criminal fixer, Ghost, Ariadne the retired vigilante, and whatever the hell is going on between Ariadne and Ortega… to say nothing of keeping both bodies fed and healthy, or skimming enough cash to pay for everything.

“Do not forget to put aside time to sleep, mon amie.”

Jane puts her planner to one side and looks up at Mortum with a hopeless smile. “Personally, I think that’s a feature, not a bug.”

That does nothing to ease the look of concern on the doctor’s face. “Trouble sleeping?”

“It’s nothing. It’s fine.” Jane sighs, waving the concern away. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Mon amie–”

“I said don’t worry.” It’s touching, almost, how concerned Dr. Mortum has started to get over Jane’s wellbeing. Haven’t figured out what exactly her angle there is. “Look…” Jane trails off as you try to find the right words, a way to thread the needle. “I… appreciate your concern but I’m fine. Seriously.”

“If you say so.”

“I do. Say so. Look, I’m not even working the frontlines anymore. No more being blown up, you know? I promised.”

Mortum does not look convinced. “Spying on the ex-marshal does not count as ‘front lines’ to you, mon amie?”

Jane scoffs, “What’s she gonna do, give me the tingler?” Actually...

No! Stay focused!

Mortum gives her a tired expression. “Charge is a craftier woman than you’re giving her credit, mon amie.”

Loud, brash Ortega? The woman whose smile makes Jane feel like she’s lighter than air? She shakes her head. “I don’t see it.”

“Well, that’s rather the idea now, is it not?” Mortum’s smile is grim and she holds out her hands, palms up. “We all play up particular roles so that others might overlook the parts we wish them too.”

That gets a raised eyebrow, “And are you hiding something from me, doc?”

“But of course, mon amie. As I assume you are from me. This is how people are. Can anyone ever truly know another?”

“I thought your thing was science, not philosophy.”

“In my prefered field? The distinction between the two can get terribly blurry.”

It’s hard to argue with her. And that alone is enough to make you nervous. Is Ortega up to something? How much does she know about Ghost and how much does she just suspect? You thought she was just trying to reconnect with Ariadne out of sentimentality, but what if she’s trying to keep tabs? The thought is enough to make Jane frown.

You have to face facts and admit that cutting ties with Ortega completely is the safest move. Jane’s the one with the relationship, the one making a connection. Ariadne’s a ghost from the past, a hanger-on. She’s got no business making eyes at Ortega.

Being around her… being forced to confront face-to-face with the impossibility of what you can never have… it’s painful. Ortega would hate her, if she knew the truth about Ariadne; what she was, what she’d done.

You can’t go back. It’s unthinkable. So, if you can’t work yourself up to dying then there’s no choice. You’re stuck on this path. You can’t unring the bell.

“–mon amie?”

Jane blinks, jerking her head up from her planner. “S–sorry, what?”

Dr. Mortum watches her from across the table, concern knitting her brow. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“Oh, ah.” Jane winces, an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I got lost in my head there.”

“It is the lack of sleep mon amie.” She smiles.

“Maybe.” Jane mirrors the smile back. “Still – there’s no rest in sight for this bad girl.” With a sigh, she snaps her planning shut and tucks it away in her purse. “I’ve got another, very exciting meeting tonight.”

“Be careful, mon amie.”

Jane flashes a smile and downs the rest of her drink before leaving a twenty on the table. “You know me, I always am.”

–––

“Thanks for coming with me,” Ortega whispers from the corner of her mouth.

“Of course, thanks for inviting me.” A smile flits across Jane’s face as she studies the mess of an abstract portrait hanging on the wall in front of them. “Hopefully no super villains crash this party.”

Ortega laughs, uneasy, as she rubs the back of her neck. “Anyone that does is going to regret it.”

Jane arches an eyebrow as you try to keep her from smiling. In the aftermath of the Gala fiasco, security has tripled in order to keep the city’s elite feeling safe. The Mayor’s Guardian force was milling around here somewhere, ready to jump into duty in a split second. For the Rangers, beside Ortega, Jane has seen Herald milling around somewhere and it wouldn’t surprise you if either Argent, or Steel, or both had been bullied into attending.

The Mayor needs to prove to her benefactors she was worth keeping in office. The Rangers needed to prove they were worth keeping in Los Diablos.

Lucky for you then, Ortega still owed Jane a second date.

No explosives this time. No dramatic fights, or burning buildings. No terrible mistakes with people screaming and blood everywhere and emergency rooms filling up. Going to do this right. Going to do this quiet. The bastards won’t realize the damage until it’s too late.

“Charge! How are you holding up?”

Jane and Ortega turn together to find Herald walking towards them. It’s a little strange seeming him in a tuxedo again. All crisp angles and sharp features. He raises an arm to wave and you think Jane spies a glimpse of blue sleeve from a Ranger skinsuit underneath. Well, that confirms what you suspected from the Gala. Wonderbread really is ready to throw-down at a moment’s notice.

Is Ortega? She’s in a suit this time instead of a dress. Easier to fight in?

Ortega waves back at Herald with a smile. “Haven’t throttled anyone yet, how about you?”

Herald takes Ortega’s hand and pulls her into a quick hug. “Oh, this is old hat to me. I just focus on the art, and see how many fancy hors d’oeuvres I can sneak before anyone notices.” Ortega laughs and Jane politely covers her mouth to hide the smile. He shifts his gaze down to Jane and his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Sides–?” He flinches and shakes his head. “Wait, no?”

Jane keeps her face blank. Sidestep? Sidestep who? Never heard of the bitch.

There is a tense silence and then Ortega breaks it with a forced laugh. “Sorry, this is my friend Jane I was telling you about.” She gestures towards you and then from you to Herald. “And Jane, this is Herald, but you probably already knew that.” More forced laughter.

Friend?

“Sorry,” Herald rubs at his knee, “you just reminded me of someone.” He shoots Ortega a curious look.

Was it too late now to go back and dye Jane’s hair? You idiot. You stupid vain idiot. All the more reason to keep the two lives separated. Why did you have to go and get Jane involved with Ortega?

Moron. Fool. Buffoon.

Jane keeps her face a careful blank. “It’s… nice to meet you too, Mr. …?”

Herald smiles, awkward. “Just Herald is fine. Nice to meet you, Jane.” He doesn’t offer a hand to shake.

When Ortega and Herald descend into small talk Jane breathes a sigh of relief and politely detaches herself from the conversation. A few tense moments, but it had at least bought you some needed freedom from Ortega.

Time to get to work then.

“Excuse me, folks, I’m just gonna duck into the restroom real quick.”

Ortega nods, “You know where it is?”

“I’ll figure it out. I’ll see you at the shrimp bar, sweetie.” Jane winks at Ortega, a smirk spreading across her face at the slight color on her hero’s face. Still got her.

Your sense of direction as Jane isn’t as strong as Ariadne’s but enough time spent studying floor plans makes up for it. Weave through the crowd, past the buffet table. The further from the food and the booze Jane gets the less people in ritzy outfights milling around being offensively rich.

There, next to the restrooms, a side entrance for the gallery. A very bored looking cop stands next to the door, watching the guests.

Mustering up all the elitist disdain she can muster, Jane approaches the door and gives the cop a dismissive glance, adding some gravel to her voice. “I’m taking a smoke break.” The man frowns but otherwise doesn’t stop Jane as she steps through the door, pretending to fish through her purse. Perfect.

Outside, the street gives a clear view to the Hero Museum just down the block. Once again closed for renovation and repair. The dumb bastards. Maybe you’ll trash the next grand opening too. Keep it up until they get the idea.

It doesn’t take long to spot her. The woman pacing back and forth down the sidewalk, staring anxiously at her phone, purse hanging loose in the crook of her arm. Jane whispers to get her attention and when that doesn’t work progressively raises her voice. “Hey! Ochoa!”

She looks up, sags in relief and hurries over to Jane, her movements stiff and awkward in the tight black and gold floral dress. “Finally! I was about to call the whole thing off.”

“Do you want your dirt or not?” Jane hisses.

“Please, Jane.” Mia Ochoa’s frowns, “I’m an investigative journalist, not a tabloid columnist.”

“Sure, whatever.” Jane glances up and down the street. She keeps a hand in her purse, fingering the gadget from Dr. Mortum that should be disrupting the video cameras. How long did the charge last for again? Five minutes? “Sit tight, I need to get the pig out of the way first.”

“You’re not going to–?”

Jane snorts, “I’m not going to hurt anybody. I’m not stupid.” She tilts her head, thinking. “Well. I’m probably not going to hurt anybody.” She shakes her head and holds up a hand. “Whatever, wait here. This’ll only take a second.”

“Ugh,” Jane contorts her face into a visage of barely contained fury as she steps back inside. “I can’t believe some people.”

The cop sighs, “There a problem, Ma’am?”

A short bark of a laugh. “Problem?” Jane glowers down the hallway. “Yeah, there’s a fucking problem.”

Eyes flicker to Jane’s nametag. “There’s no need for that kind of language, Miss Smith.”

Jane snarls, “Tell that to the asshole who can’t keep his hands to himself.”

That gets the cop’s attention. “Again, is there something I can help you with, Ma’am.”

Jane holds her breath. You’re about to do something really shitty. Oh well. Sorry Kieth, it’s for the greater good. “Yeah, alright.” Jane sighs, avoiding the cop’s gaze. “someone ought to teach that damn waiter at the cocktail bar some manners. I’m not the only woman either he’s harassed tonight. The ass.”

The man’s eyes narrow. “I’ll see someone talks to him.” He puts a hand up to the walkie-talkie strapped to his breast pocket. Presses the button. Jane holds her breath. “Hey, Sam? I got a woman here reporting a problem with one of the help.”

The cop frowns as no one answers.

“Sam? You there?” No response. “Kim? José?”

Jane crosses her arms, and taps her foot. “I thought you said you’d take care of it.”

He shakes his head, “Something’s wrong with my damn walkie.” He taps it one more time and shakes his head. “Goddamn this garbage keeps busting. Sorry miss, I’ll have to find my superior.” He shoots Jane a glance, eyeing her up and down. “In the meantime, use some common sense.”

Jane huffs, as the cop walks off, grumbling about equipment.

Honestly, you half-expected that not to work. Thank you, Dr. Mortum.

A quick glance around to check for any other eyes and you step back to hold the door open. “Alright Ochoa, you’re in.”

“Finally.” The reporter quickly steps inside and you let the door close. “I can’t believe I’m really doing this.”

Jane frowns as she digs through her purse again. “Yeah, well, if you want the real meat you gotta go where they don’t want you to be.”

“Oh believe me, I know.”

“Ah, here we go.” Jane pulls out a small laminated pin, holds it up for Ochoa’s inspection. “Your own name pin. It’s like you were supposed to be here all along.”

“Oh!” The woman takes it from Jane’s hand with a look of surprise. “You thought of everything.”

“Don’t jinx it.”

As the two of you walk down the hallway to rejoin the main event Ochoa pins the name tag to her chest and smoothes out her dress. “Alright, well, thanks for getting me in. I can take it from here.”

“Just don’t forget our deal. You owe now.”

The smile fades from Ochoa’s face. “Of course.”

Jane scans the room as the two of you step in. There’s Ortega and Herald still talking in the far corner, and then there’s… “Actually,” a tight smile crosses Jane’s face, “how do you feel about an introduction to the Mayor’s right-hand man?”

Ochoa’s eyes light up, “I’d love it.” She frowns, “But do you think he’ll talk?”

“I think you might be surprised.” Jane grabs Ochoa’s hand, pulling her through the crowd. There we go. Jane raises her free hand in greeting, “Professor Vanderpoel, it’s a pleasure to see you again.”

The balding clerk turns with startled surprise towards Jane, as the other two men in his group stop talking, watching the two approaching women with mild interest. “I’m sorry… do I know you?”

Jane laughs, a bright smile on her face. “Don’t tell me you forgot me already? Tell me you at least remember the linden trees?”

A cascade of color rockets up the man’s face. “That– that was a very different time in my life.”

One of Vanderpoel’s companions laughs and elbows him in the side. “You never told me you used to teach!”

Vanderpoel flinches, “I haven’t for eight years.”

Jane nods, knowingly. “Such a shame what happened! Still, I’m so happy to see you’ve bounced back without any problems.”

“Well…”

“Anyway,” Jane cuts him off without mercy, “I was just catching up with my good friend Mia,” Jane tugs Mia forward by the arm. “When I saw you over here.”

One of Vanderpoel’s friends tilts his head, “Mia…? You look familiar.”

Ochoa’s smile is strained. “I’m a reporter for LD Confidential.”

Jane laughs, “Don’t worry, she’s not working today.”

Vanderpoel’s two friends laugh with Jane, but Vanderpoel himself has a thoughtful look in his eye. Encouraging. Ghost’s bridge-side chat with the man has been sinking in after all.

The man on the right claps Vanderpoel on the back. “You know some lovely ladies man, I can’t believe you’ve been holding out on us!” A strange look crosses across Vanderpoel’s face and the three men make room for the two of you to join their conversation. You can’t stop the smirk on Jane’s face. You’ve got them.

S u c k e r s.

Not every bomb needs to be literal.

A few more minutes of smalltalk to help work Ochoa into the conversation and then Jane politely excuses herself from the group. She’s got a date to rejoin after all.

Ortega perks up as Jane crosses the room, a glass of wine in each hand. She doesn’t wait to ask before offering Jane one of them. “I was beginning to think you might have ditched me.”

Jane smiles, laughs, as she takes the wine glass. “Sorry, sorry, I saw some people I knew and got distracted.”

“Oh?” Ortega’s focus zeros in on Jane, “Anyone I’d know?”

“Oh, I doubt it.” Jane shakes her head and waves a hand to dismiss the idea. “Just some old college friends. “ She glances about the room, “Herald still around?”

Ortega laughs, “He’s around somewhere. Why?”

“No reason. Just wondering.” Jane sips from her glass. “You have a lot of attractive friends.”

Wait, fuck what? Why did you say that? What the fuck? What happened to that masterclass of infiltration?

Ortega blinks, surprised, then laughs. “I hadn’t pegged you for being into men too.”

Jane glowers up at her. “So what?”

“Hey, it’s fine. I’m bi too.” Ortega smiles, pats Jane on the shoulder, then lets her hand run down the arm.

“You are?” Jane winces, “Ugh, what am I saying, of course you are. Sorry, I’ve apparently lost my mind tonight.”

“I suppose my love life is pretty well documented at this point.” There’s a bitter tinge to Ortega’s voice that catches you by surprise.

“I’m surprised we haven’t shown up in a tabloid yet,” Jane admits.

“Ghost’s debut kind of took over the headlines for awhile, didn’t it?.” Ortega laughs, “It’s just as well. I don’t get the kind of media attention that I used to.”

“Miss it any?”

“God no.” Ortega smiles widely, and then the smile quickly fades. “Sometimes I wonder how many relationships it cost me.”

Huh. “Was it that bad?”

“You got out for dinner with one guy and suddenly they’re your boyfriend. After awhile I just kind of embraced it. Especially once I became Marshal. At least I could take some ownership over it that way, you know?”

“I’m… sorry, that sounds pretty rough actually.”

“It’s in the past now.”

Silence threatens to stretch out between you two. Jane coughs, “So… when did you figure out you liked women, then?”

Ortega rubs her neck, “When I figured it out…? Hrm.”

“You don’t have to tell me.”

“No, I’m just… it feels like so long ago now.” Ortega sighs. “I guess… there was this vigilante…”

Jane holds her breath. No– It couldn’t be, could it? “A vigilante?”

“Well, I had just joined the Rangers properly.” Oh. “This vigilante, Axel. She was this speed boost that worked in the south end of the city. She was Latina too, and we just… kind of hit it off.”

“Wow,” Jane says. You try to wrack you memory for anything about an ‘Axel.’ It’s not ringing a bell. “What ended up happening?”

“It wasn’t easy trying to keep it out of the press. Eventually it got to be too much and we just kind of… mutually broke it off. She retired not long after. Or moved, maybe?” Ortega crosses her arms, thinking. “That’s it, she moved down further south. I haven’t heard from her since.”

“She didn’t want to go public?”

Ortega sighs. “This was like the early aughts. Things were starting to change but…”

Jane frowns. “There would have been consequences.”

“Yeah. I think…” Ortega stares at the floor between the two of you, lost in memory or maybe regret. “I think maybe I had been too pushy. I was under a lot of pressure at the time. The new face of the Rangers. They told me I needed a relationship to look ‘normal.’”

“Human.” Jane prompts, unbidden.

“Yeah,” Ortega laughs, bitter. “That too, I guess. Not that it was an excuse, mind.”

“Would a relationship with a woman really work for that though?”

“Well, we’ll never know now. I wanted to try but…”

“But?”

“I don’t think I gave her the space to really process what coming out would mean. We just fought about it. A lot.”

Jane rocks back and forth on her heels, avoids looking at Ortega. “That’s rough, I’m sorry.” Ortega never shared this with you – with Ariadne. You’re not sure what that means. How to feel about it.

“Well, hey,” Ortega looks up, catches Jane’s eye. “I learned from it. Eventually.” She smiles, and Jane smiles back. “Well, I told you my story, what’s yours?”

Jane blinks, bites her lip. “Oh! Uh. Hrm.”

“Sore subject for you too?”

“Uh… not exactly…” Jane laughs while panic runs through your head. “Like… when I figured out I liked guys…?”

“I was more thinking women? Society kind of expects the male interest.”

Jane forces a laugh. “I guess that’s true. I’ve never actually dated a guy though.”

Ortega shrugs, “Doesn’t make you any less bi. Nothing wrong with that.”

“Is it still bi if you don’t want to date guys though?” Jane frowns, looking away. Floor, artwork, the crowd. Anywhere else.

“Oh. Hrm,” Ortega pauses, “I guess that’s up to you? I’m not the sexuality police.” She laughs and Jane finds herself joining in.

“Oh good. I’m safe then. I mean… guys can be… attractive, I guess.” Jane shrugs helplessly, “But… I don’t know. I guess I’m kind of afraid of them?”

“Jane…?” There’s a note of concern in Ortega’s voice, and Jane cringes. This conversation is getting too real.

“This isn’t really the place to talk about it.”

“Okay. I get that. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” Jane sighs. That is absolutely not a subject you want Ortega to chew on. You need something to distract her. “ As far as women go, well..” You need to think of a story quickly. “There was this… girl I worked with in – in… college.”

“You know,” There’s an impish grin on Ortega’s face, “they say you should never date a coworker.”

Jane scowls, “Oh believe me, no dating was involved.”

Ortega puts a hand over her mouth. “Oh no! You just pined from afar?”

“Uh… more like, right next to her. For five years.”

“Ouch. She never caught on?”

The pained expression on Jane’s face matches the one in your heart. “I… have no idea?” Shesighs and downs the rest of her wine glass in one go. “Honestly, I didn’t really… understand what it was I was feeling until years later. And then… it was too late.” She shrugs and looks away. Can’t believe this conversation is happening. Have you lost your goddamn mind?

Ortega is shaking her head, equal parts amused and pitying. “I never would have pegged you for the shy type.”

“Hey!” Jane crosses her arms, “not shy enough to keep from kissing you.”

Ortega laughs again, “I’ve noticed.”

“I learned from my mistakes too,” Jane lies.

[lovehugsandcandy]

It's Only a Game (Part 7)

A/N: This is completely AU now.  There is a short epilogue after this one to wrap up the series (sorry, this one’s wicked long).

Pairing: Colt x MC

Rating: R (Swearing and violence and people getting hurt.)

Length: 5229 words

Summary: Colt has a plan to hit the Brotherhood, but at what cost?

Tags: @deimosensblog @alegria1580  @choicesarehard @thefarrari @client-327 @going-down-downtown @jolietmaraud @soniadotalves @moonlit-girl-wonder @hazah @flowerpowell @poeticscolt

Disclaimer: I own nothing. This is only for fun.

Ellie looked up from the door of the storage unit at the pair of figures heading towards them. “Wait, what is Mona doing here? And Ximena?”  

Logan looked up from the lock he was struggling with. “I don’t know….”

Kaneko had them moving the cars all over the city, convinced that the cops were going to find the three cars. She felt like they had been walking and driving for hours; her feet hurt and the sweat had her hair sticking to her forehead. She just wanted to take a shower, but Kaneko kept calling.

Ximena gave a wave as she got closer. “Hi! What are you doing here?”

“We are moving the Maranello. Kaneko’s orders.”

Mona froze and, annoyed, huffed a stray stand of hair off her face. “Wait, what? We just put the Maranello in the unit by the ocean an hour ago.” 

“We just got the Maranello out of that unit to go here.” Logan looked confused.

Ximena scrunched her nose. “Sweetie, we just got the GT to put in this unit.”

“But….we just put the GT  in the unit off the highway.” Ellie looked around at the crew. “Maybe Kaneko is confused.”

“I don’t like this.” Mona furrowed her eyebrows.

Suddenly, Toby came up the path, whistling, spinning a pair of keys in outstretched fingers. “Hey guys! I’m here to drop the Stuttgart off.”

“What?  ….But….” Ellie was trying, and failing, to keep up. “Why would you drop that car off, we already-”

Logan cut her off. “Kaneko is trying to keep us away from the garage.” Logan grabbed the keys out of Toby’s hands. “We need to go back. Now. Mona, Ximena, take the GT back. Toby, with us.” He took off down the path, back towards the street.

“What?” Ellie followed, struggling to keep up. “Why would he want us out of the garage?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t like it,” Logan led the crew past the gate and hopped into the driver’s seat of the Stuttgart, Ellie sliding in the passenger seat.

Toby folded his legs into the back seat, a tight fit in the small car. “If he wants us out, maybe we should stay out.”

“With everything going on? Not a chance.” Logan turned the key and barely waited for the back door to close before he gunned it.

~~~~~

As soon as Logan slid the key from the ignition, he slammed open the door and was out of the car like a shot. It was empty on the floor, so quiet that Ellie thought the shop was empty. Logan’s stomping footsteps echoed on the concrete as he made a beeline for the office but, before he could get there, Kaneko emerged, shutting the door tightly behind him.

“Did you finish? Are the cars away?” Kaneko half-heartedly looked at Logan; Ellie had never seen him so distracted. Usually he was calm, placidly moving through life whether he was directing multi-million dollar robberies or telling Salazar to ruin his own car. Now, he looked nervous, fingers drumming a rhythm against his good leg.

“Boss?” Logan paused, obviously noticing it too. “What’s going on?”

“What’s going on is that I asked you to do a job and no one has confirmed that it is done.” Ellie stopped next to Logan and looked between them both; Kaneko’s harsh voice echoed around the floor but he didn’t look angry. He looked...concerned?

Before Ellie could put her finger on it, she heard footsteps coming up from the basement and, for a moment, it was like the rest of the crew disappeared as Colt emerged from the stairs to his room.

He looked as surprised to see her as she was to see him, stopping to stare back as she drank him in. It had been less than a week but she felt like she was looking at him for the first time, taking in the jacket, the eyes, the hair, all familiar but new.

She stepped forward. “Colt?”

Colt just stared at her and swallowed, hard. He looked trapped and his eyes cut to his dad. She took another step forward and, to her shock, he took a step backwards, away from her and the crew, shoving his hands in his pockets and rocking back on his heels.

“Colt?” 

Colt looked past her, past the crew, face expressionless. She was about to speak again when he looked at her; she tried to see a glimpse of something, softness, recognition, anything, but it was like looking at a new person, a harder, tougher version of Colt. “I need to work on my bike.”

Ellie stared in shock as he walked by the crew, not making eye contact with anyone, and settled down next to his bike. Logan caught her eye and shrugged.

She stood, awkwardly, until Toby whistled in the background. “Okay.....”

Finally, this seemed to get a reaction out of Kaneko. “Do I pay you all to stand around? Get to work.”

With one last look, Ximena and Toby wandered away, back to the junker they were pulling part from while Kaneko walked over to his Aylesbury. Mona lingered, looking suspicious, but finally headed to the break room so only Ellie and Logan stood there. “This is weird,” he whispered.

“Maybe jail was worse than Kaneko thought it would be?”

Logan shrugged and Ellie’s eyes cut to Colt. He was on the ground, tooling with a screwdriver underneath the chassis. She nodded, resolutely. “I’m going to talk to him.”

Logan shrugged and glanced over to Colt. “Couldn’t hurt,” he muttered, rubbing her shoulder. “Good luck.”

She shot him a half-smile and headed over. Colt obviously heard her coming and tensed, but kept working on the bike. “Hey, Colt.”

He didn’t even look up. “Hi. What’s up?”

Ellie paused. “Are you ok?”

“Fine.”

Ellie waited for more but it wasn’t forthcoming. “What the hell happened to you?”

There was a clatter as the screwdriver fell to the ground and, finally, he turned to her, eyes cold. “I’m trying to fix my bike, Ellie.” He turned, grabbing a wrench off the ground, and got to work as Ellie stood there, mouth gaping.

She was frozen, staring at his back, in shock at her unceremonious dismissal. What the hell? She wanted to call him out, but it didn’t seem like the time and, honestly, she was so confused by the change in demeanor that she didn’t know what to think.

She didn’t have long to stand there, considering her next move, as the bay door opened as a car pulled in. Ellie’s heart dropped as she saw a very familiar car roll into the shop, watching in shock as he father slid out of the driver’s side. He looked worn, tired, slightly more rumpled than usual, but it was her dad, in the flesh, right in front of her. She didn’t realize how much she had missed him, really truly missed him, until that moment. Her heart ached for him. “Dad?”

Even across the room, he heard her and caught her eye. He paused, taking her in with a sharp inhale; she saw his eyes flit over her face, her new tattoo. The stared at each other, eyes speaking volumes, for a moment until he seemed to remember why he was here. He gave her a sharp shake of the head as he walked further into the garage. “Not now, Ellie.” His tone turned businesslike, cold. “Colt Kaneko? We need to talk to you. Now.”

Ellie heard a clatter, loud behind her, and Colt stood up, chucking a wrench on the ground. “What the hell, man? Seriously?”

Her dad shook his head. “Let’s go. We have some more questions for you.”

“Fuck you, I’m not going anywhere.” Colt’s eyes flitted to the detective getting out of the passenger seat and he flipped him off. “Fuck, this asshole again? Fuck you!”

Ellie had never seen this new cop before; she assumed he was her dad’s new partner. He laughed, darkly. “You thought we had fun last time, kid? You ain’t seen nothing yet.”

Colt swore again and Ellie couldn’t take her eyes off him as he stomped towards the cruiser. He was absolutely furious, coiled tight, the tension in his muscles visible beneath his jacket. 

Her dad stepped closer to him, reaching out. “Come on, kid, let’s go.” 

“Fuck you, I already wasted three days of my life....” Her dad reached out again, arm on Colt’s forearm, but Colt shook him off, turning away, snarling. “I said fuck you.”

Her dad stepped closer again, in Colt’s space, and it was like Ellie saw it happening in slow motion. Her dad reaching out, Colt spinning, fist flying, connecting with her dad’s jaw, the flailing as her dad hit the ground. Someone was screaming and Ellie realized it was her.

She ran, sprinting to her dad’s side. The other cop beat her there and threw Colt to the ground. They were wrestling each other, swearing, the cop trying to force cuffs on Colt’s wrists, but all she could see was her dad on the ground, clutching his face.

She dropped to her knees. “Dad? Dad! Are you ok?”

He sat up, gingerly, clutching his jaw, brushing her off; she could see the red mark, bright and obvious on his jaw, where Colt’s fist had landed. It looked like it would bruise. He looked over at Colt and his partner, watching the tussle. The cop was dragging Colt up by the handcuffs around his wrists, pulling him over to the cop car.

Her dad stood, shaky, and Ellie scrambled up after him, holding onto his arm. “Dad...”

“Not NOW Ellie.” Her dad was pissed and the clipped words stung. “Get him the hell out of here. Now. I don’t even wanna be in the same car with him. Take him to the precinct.”

“You sure?” The other cop pushed Colt against the cop car while Colt glowered at him, struggling against his handcuffs.

“I can catch a ride back from patrol.” Ellie watched her dad rub his jaw and her heart broke. She couldn’t believe how far everything had gone. She couldn’t believe that the boy she.... The boy she thought she loved, the boy who... In the battle between two of the most important people in her life, she could see in stunning clarity her choice.

Balling her hands into fists, she stormed over to Colt, who was leaning against her dad’s car petulantly. She stopped in front of him and watched him still, looking at her warily. She was sure that she couldn’t keep the anger off her face.

“MY DAD?!? My DAD, Colt?!?! REALLY?!?!” She was completely losing her composure; she couldn’t stop screaming. “You fucking hit my dad?!?!”

Colt pulled back, straightening up against the car, mouth open in shock. “Ellie....”

“You asshole, you HIT MY DAD.” Her hand came out before she could think, a sharp satisfying movement, all instinct. She didn’t even realize she slapped Colt until she heard the sickening sound of her hand land on his cheek, felt the impact through her arm. She was shaking, an anger she had never felt before rearing its head. Colt looked at her, tonguing the side of his mouth where blood had started to slide down his lip.

“Ellie....” He sounded broken.

She didn’t care.

“You really are just a hothead fucking criminal, aren’t you? Fuck you.” She came at him again and was gratified to see him flinch. She stopped, putting her hand down without making contact. “MY DAD?!?!”

She could vaguely hear her dad calling her name behind her but she was consumed by her fury. She stepped closer to Colt, hissing, “I regret everything. Everything. Everything we ever did, everything..... Go fuck yourself.”

He met her eyes and pushed himself off the car, awkwardly, as if to reach for her . “Ellie....” He stopped, mouth forming words that wouldn’t come. 

“Get him out of here.” Her dad had come up behind her and was talking, harsh, clipped, pissed off to the other detective.

Colt glanced at her dad and his face darkened. He looked like he was about to spout off again but the her dad’s partner grabbed his arm, stepping between them, and opening the car door. Colt struggled halfheartedly and then went limp, letting himself be dragged around, thrown in the backseat.

She watched him, watched him sit and turn to look at her. She saw his eyes narrow, the car start, and then he was gone.

Her hand were in fists, tears pricking her eyes, as Ximena walked over. “Sweetie....sweetie....” Before she knew it, she was wrapped in Ximena’s comforting hug, surrounded by her strong arms. 

Ellie was trying to stop crying, sniffling to try to stop the faucet leaking off of her face, but it wasn’t working.  She wasn’t sure how long she stayed there, cocooned in Ximena, but she turned as Kaneko spoke. “Do you need ice?”

Her dad was still staring out the bay of the shop, lost in thought. He turned back to Kaneko and look tired. Ellie felt tired too. “No,” he shook his head, rubbing his jaw. “I’m fine.”

Her dad and Kaneko looked at each other, watching, for so long Ellie almost intervened when finally, her dad nodded and they both started walking into Kaneko’s office. Ellie caught Logan’s eye. He looked as confused as she felt.

That confusion turned to complete bewilderment minutes later as her dad left the office, clutching his vest and a tablet. “They took a left on Manchester. The kid was right.”

Kaneko hobbled behind him, unable to keep up with her dad’s strides. “Can I come with you?”

“Sorry. No way. But I will let you know as soon as I know something, ok?” Her dad shook his head, buckling the last few straps of the vest.

Kaneko nodded and watched her dad rush out of the bay. He waited mere seconds before heading to the Alyesbury.

“Boss?” Logan stepped forward, sharing a look with Ellie. “Boss, what is going on?”

“I’ll be back.” Kaneko slid into the driver’s seat. Ellie exchanged glances with the entire crew. Everyone looked as baffled as she felt and , without a word, the entire crew converged on Kaneko’s car in unison. She pulled open the passenger door and slid in with Logan, while Toby, Mona, and Ximena shoved into the back seat.

“Get out of my-”

Logan slammed the door behind him, cutting Kaneko off. “Just drive.”

~~~~~

Ellie shifted to try and give Logan more space as they made their way through the street. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Ximena trying and failing to fit comfortably in the backseat, but no one said anything, air heavy in the car.

“Boss? Where are we going?” Logan shifted and wrapped an arm around Ellie’s shoulder. She was glad for the support; her fury had been replaced by complete confusion and she felt unmoored.

Kaneko said nothing as he drove, slowly. Ellie watched the out the window, not really seeing anything, when she realized they were taking a left on La Brea. “I know where we’re going....” she breathed out. 

Logan nudged her and she looked up at his confused face. She hadn’t even realized she had spoken. 

“Inglewood....we’re going to the factory, aren’t we?”

Kaneko tightened this grip on the steering wheel and said nothing.

Ellie looked at him. “Kaneko, what’s going on?”

His mouth was a grim line, pale in the darkness. “You will all stay in the car. Only I will get out.”

“Boss, are you insane?” Logan glared. “We’re a part of all this now and-”

“YOU WILL STAY IN THE CAR.” Ellie had rarely heard Kaneko raise his voice; she could see how he commanded respect in this world.

The rest of the ride was in complete silence.

~~~~~

Her dad’s patrol car was here, parked outside, another cruiser next to it. Kaneko pulled in slowly and turned off the engine. He stopped, gathering his thoughts, before turning to the crew. “It is imperative that you stay here. I won’t have you endangering my son.”

Ellie shook her head. “No, if my dad is here...”

He shook his head, violently. “Stay in the car.” He pulled open the door swinging his legs out, but grimaced as soon as they hit the gravel. Ellie shot a concerned glance to Logan and turned back to see Kaneko stumble slightly as he stood, clutching the car door. 

“Boss, your leg.” Logan opened the door and hopped out, walking towards Kaneko. “You ok?”

Ellie saw her chance and slid over, quickly, placing her feet on the ground as quietly as she could. With one last glance back, she pushed off the seat and was off.

“Oh shit.” Mona’s words, a mix of amusement and awe, echoes as she sprinted to the factory and puled open the door.

The sun was setting, the glare and the shadows making it harder to see when she darted inside. It took a minute for her eyes to adjust then slowly, quietly, she made her way past machines, through fumes of gas and shards of broken glass, deeper into the building. She was peering down a hallway, trying to see if she could hear anything, when a hand on her arm made her gasp.

She whirled, fist raised, and Logan put his hands up. “Whoa....whoa whoa whoa, just me.”

“Jesus, Logan.” Her heart was pounding, heavy in her chest. “You scared me.”

“Sorry, sorry.” He shot her a lopsided smile. “Kaneko was not pleased about the stunt you pulled, so he wanted me to come get you.”

“What?” Ellie crossed her arms. “Seriously?”

Logan chuckled quietly. “Well, that’s what he wanted. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna do it. Don’t you want to find your dad?” Ellie gaped at him before she slowly smiled.

“Let’s go.” With that, he followed her, down dingy hallways, dark rooms until finally, the path opened up and they were on the factory floor. Old machines, rusted and in pieces, were scattered in a giant room. The smell of gas was stronger here and oil had spilled on the ground, looking like it had seeped out of machines eons ago. They walked through rows of machinery, dim light filtering through high windows, until finally the room opened up and they could see.

With a gasp, Logan grabbed her arm and pulled her behind a behemoth of metal, a giant contraption dusty with time and disrepair. He pointed out, deeper into the factory with a shaky hand, and Ellie felt her stomach drop as her eyes followed its path.

In the middle of the factory floor, two figures stood. Ellie had to squint for a minute before she realized she was looking at Colt and her dad’s partner. It looked like they were talking and the cop looked none too pleased at the conversation. She could tell by the tilt of his shoulders that Colt was pissed but holding himself back. His handcuffs were off and he was gesturing, all choppy movements and barely restrained fury.

She couldn’t hear what they were saying and peered around the machinery, looking for a path to move forward. Logan crouched behind her, close, looking intently out into the dark.

“We should get closer,” Ellie whispered. “I want to hear what they’re saying.”

Logan’s eyes widened. “I’m not sure that’s a great idea. Besides, look....”

He gestured through the dark and, once Ellie saw it, her heart dropped. Her dad was crouching though the darkness, bullet-proof vest on, gun out. He was headed towards Colt cautiously. “Why does he have his gun out? Colt’s not armed.”

She and Logan looked at each other for a beat. Her eyes widened and Logan’s mouth dropped. “The other cop is armed.”

Ellie turned and it seemed like everything happened in an instant. The detective pulled a gun and Colt stepped back. Her dad emerged from the darkness, moving fast, but was it fast enough? Gun shots. One? Two? How many? What happened, other than her heart stopping, throat closing, Logan gasping, a yell.

She blinked and stood, blinking again. The air smelled of smoke, overpowering the gasoline fumes. It was making Ellie dizzy.

She blinked, looked, and screamed.

Her dad was cuffing the other detective, grappling on the ground. It looked like her dad had aimed true, as the detective was bleeding from a leg wound, the bullet tearing a hole through this uniform pants.

But Colt. Colt was on the ground.

She screamed again and ran, sprinted and fell to the ground next to him, landing hard on the concrete floor. Her dad was trying to read Miranda rights in the background but she couldn’t hear, couldn’t think, could only see Colt clutching his arm, face a grimace of pain. There was blood, a lot of blood, and it was still coming, pooling through his fingers to flow onto the factory floor.

“You have the right to remain silent.” Her dad was behind her but she couldn’t think, could only watch the blood pooling and flowing. How much blood could one person lose?

Logan crouched down next to Colt and, thankfully, wasn’t as frozen as Ellie. He ripped off his jacket, ripping and tearing until a sleeve came off. “Move,” he pushed Colt’s arm up, straight into the air, wrapping it up, trying to stop the bleeding.

“Fuck.” Colt was pale, eyes glazed over. Ellie grabbed his hand, slick with blood, and held on, tight, but he didn’t react, didn’t register the movement.

“Shots fired. Victim down. Officer down. We need two buses, stat.”

“Colt?”

Logan grimaced. “I think it hit an artery.”

Colt finally turned, eyes out of focus, face pale, looking over her shoulder. ”I’m sorry....I’m sorry about your jaw.”

Ellie looked up to watch her dad shake his head, tears in his eyes, swallowing hard. “You did good, kid. You did good.”

Colt’s eyes met hers then, hazy and unfocused. He smiled, squeezing her hand, his eyes never leaving hers until his lashes fluttered and then stilled as his eyes closed and Ellie screamed.

~~~~~~

“I’m going with him.” She was numb. She watched the paramedics load the stretcher into the ambulance, red lights flashing patterns against the wall. They had come quickly, sirens screaming into the night, but she didn’t know if it would be quick enough. The pallor on her dad’s face told her that he wasn’t sure either.

“Are you related?” The paramedic stared at her, harsh. She wondered how many gun shots she had seen, how many friends and family members she had to deal with on rides just like this one.

“No but-” 

“I’m his father. I’m going. She’s coming.” Kaneko climbed in the back, following the stretcher, leg limping behind him as he settled in.

The paramedic rolled her eyes, but acquiesced with a nod of her head.

She went to follow, but her day stopped her with a hand on her wrist, looking at her. “I need to go with Foley. See you at the hospital?” She nodded and, before she knew what was happening, he wrapped her in a hug. “See you soon, pumpkin.”

With that, he kissed her on the forehead and she nodded, climbing up, into the back of the ambulance, settling on top of a first aid kit, a makeshift seat in the crowded vehicle. The paramedic shut the door and, minutes later, siren again blazing, they were off.

She leaned forward, looking at Colt, careful not to get in the way of the paramedic currently working on him. He hadn’t awoken and his skin hadn’t regained any color, dark circles under his eyes adding to the surreal scene in front of her. He looked dead. She was so used to action and reaction from Colt, whether it was a smirk or a glare or a smart comment, generally something self-assured, something cocky, something that make her heart melt; to see him like this, still and immobile, she had to focus on not vomiting.

“Do you know his blood type?” The paramedic broke into her reverie, looking at Kaneko.

He at least had the sense to look ashamed. “I do not.”

The paramedic shrugged, turning back to his cooler to grab a blood bag. Kaneko looked at his hands.

“Kaneko?” Ellie turned to him. It didn’t look like his thoughts were taking him anywhere pleasant. “What happened back there?”

He let out a sigh, long, loud, and slouched down. “It was Colt’s plan.”

“What was Colt’s plan?”

“The other detective, the one your dad shot....he was in The Brotherhood.” Kaneko looked at her as she tried to process. “He is the contact who you saw meeting with me after the Grapevine job.”

Ellie’s mind whirled. “We barely saw him, it was so dark.”

“Colt recognized his voice and came up with this plan.”

“The plan was to get shot?!?” She couldn’t keep the tremor out of her voice. She watched the paramedic give Colt blood, watched it draining into his arm. They had stopped the bleeding, but she could still see the pool of red on the factory floor behind her eyelids.

“The plan was to get him alone.”

Ellie thought for a second. “...he needed to somehow separate him, away from other cops.”

Kaneko nodded, dull eyes trained on his son. “Your dad helped with that part. Create a diversion where your dad could follow from a distance, get him in the car alone, get him talking....”

“My dad wanted a confession, didn’t he?” Ellie’s eyes widened. “He wore a wire.”

“We didn’t know how many people were involved, didn’t know if there were other dirty cops.” Kaneko shook his head. “This was too dangerous, but Colt insisted.”

Ellie turned back to Colt, still and quiet. The paramedic was getting another bag of blood ready. “Of course he did....”

The ambulance slowed and the siren turned off. “Almost there folks,” the paramedic called, hooking up the second bag.

Kaneko turned to her. “He didn’t want you there. He didn’t want you there for this.”

Ellie felt the tears prick her eyes. “Of course not...” He knew how she would react, seeing him assault her dad. He knew. And now all she could do was replay their last interaction in her head, the things she said to him, the slap, all echoing. 

The ambulance stopped and, seconds later, the doors open, a flurry of activity outside. People, nurses, doctors, she couldn’t even tell, pulling the stretcher out, moving, through the ER doors. 

She followed with Kaneko, trying to keep up, but it was pointless. They were moving too fast, Kaneko still hobbling. She watched them go through a set of double doors, wheels squeaking as they sped away.

“Mr. Kaneko?” A receptionist walked over to them, clipboard in hand. “Can I see you at Registration?”

Kaneko gave her one last look and patted her shoulder, twice, before turning away. “Of course.”

Ellie stood alone, awkwardly, in the ER waiting room, taking in the drab walls, the worn carpet, the fish tank. Finally, with leaden legs, she walked over to a chair, fell into it, and started to sob.

~~~~~

A week later....

The walk down to Colt’s room took forever as Ellie dragged her feet. It felt like ages since she had been down here, like another lifetime had happened in between then and now. She remembered how excited and nervous she was last time; now, all she felt was sadness.

She knocked a few times and was about to turn the handle when Colt pulled open the door, blinking against the light. He was disheveled, pajama pants low, exposing a tempting patch of skin near his hips. Ellie quickly averted her eyes; she had to stay focused.

Colt’s face fell as he caught sight of the expression on her face. “Hi. Uhhh....” He brought a hand up to his head, smoothing down his mussed hair. ”Come in.”

Ellie walked in, slowly, taking in the familiar surroundings. “Hey.” She took a deep breath, turning to him as he closed the door behind her. “I wanted to let you know that I am going home. I’m going back to my dad.”

Colt nodded, wary. “Okay. Okay, that’s....I’m glad you two talked.”

“Yeah....” Ellie bit her lip before continuing. “So, I just wanted to say goodbye.”

She saw his eyes widen as he looked her over, bag over her shoulder and steel in her eyes. “....You’re not coming back, are you?”

“No,” Her eyes dropped to his feet. “I’m not.”

He took a step forward. “Ellie....”

“This life isn’t for me. Not anymore. I can’t do this.” Finally, her voice was steady enough that she could meet his eyes. “I’m out, Colt.”

“You don’t have to cut us all out. You don’t have to work-”

“I can’t do this, Colt!” She didn’t mean to raise her voice, but this was harder than she anticipated. Colt looked broken in front of her, face falling, bandage covering his arm. Tears started flowing down her cheeks, only a few at first. “I can’t do this.” 

“What if we-”

The tears were coming faster. Shit. “This is insane. It always was and I got so caught up with the adventure, with you.” She shook her head, frowning darkly. “I got so caught up and I need to get out.”

“What if-”

“I SAW YOU BLEEDING OUT COLT!” She was full-on crying now, heaving sobs escaping her lungs. She saw him freeze, jaw slackening as he took her in. Ellie looked at the floor and continued, quieter. Neither her words nor her tears would stop now. “You could have died. I was right there and you were bleeding and it wouldn’t stop and I couldn’t do anything about it. Do you know what it’s like, to be completely powerless, watching someone pass out and not knowing if they would ever wake up again? I thought you were going to die.”

“Ellie....” he was rubbing his left arm, near the bandage, the memory of that awful night. Would he have a scar? Probably, right? She assumed that bullet wounds left lasting scars. She also thought the scars would be limited to people who were shot, but she knew she wouldn’t be the same either. “Ellie, I’m ok.”

“And next time? The next time?” Ellie looked down, shaking her head. “I can’t do this anymore.”

Colt paused, considering. “What if I went back to school?”

Ellie stopped. Of all the possible options, she hadn’t thought of that one. “I don’t know....” She thought. “Would you? Make that decision? And leave this life? Would you really do that?” 

The look on his face gave her all the answer she needed. 

She laughed, darkly, stepping closer. All she wanted was one last look. One last time, to study the curve of his jaw, the light in his eyes. She was so close she could hear him breathing, steady in the quiet room. He put his hand to her cheek, so careful; little did he know she was already broken. One last kiss, slowly kissing his top lip, bottom lip, watching his eyelashes flutter as he looked down at her.

“Goodbye, Colt.” She brushed by him, the thud of the door final behind her as she headed back to her car.

[tarithenurse]

Undercover ch. 9

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader Contents: a tad of angst, maybe some cussing, mentions of past trauma and current injuries, finally a lot more fluff. A/N: This is the last chapter, because if I don’t restrain myself you’d end up with a book length fic. Thank you for reading. Thanks specifically for the feedback to those who have commented <3

9 - The last Chapter?

Something is itching the back of my hand, but my limbs are too heavy too move and lying in the plush, warm cocoon is the most comfortable I can remember being for half an eternity. I can’t recall how long. Stirring my sluggish memories, I catch fragments and glimpses out of order. It feels like I should know the combination in much the same way as a puzzle I know I’ve completed in the past, but don’t remember the image of and looking at the individual pieces gives too little information. To top it all off, each attempt makes my brain work slower. It makes me tired.

The itch on my hand is back. Maybe that’s what wakes me again or perhaps it’s the distant murmur of voices. Who’s talking? The female voice doesn’t belong to any of the girls, and the man…no, that’s not how the boss’s goons would talk to us. I have to fight my eyelids before they agree to stay up, allowing me to look around the room I’m in. White and blue linen covers the bedding which in turn is tugged neatly down on either side by the bed rails. I find my hands lying on top of the covers, and into the back of one of these slightly alien limbs is a dropline. Oh…that would explain. Fumbling, I try to get my hands to meet over my belly, but somehow, I’ve got my left arm stuck in some wires, and I feel the tug on my skin under the white hospital gown I’ve been dressed in. Grabbing the wires, I tug sharply the other way, and I’m mighty proud of myself as I feel them let go of whatever plug they’ve been in…but the pride evaporates the instant an incessant beeping fills the room. It’s not loud as such, just annoying enough that I try to block it out by clasping my palms to my ears.

A door, which I only now notice, is slammed open to grant entrance to a flock of people. There she is, leading the charge and with the red hair whipping around her face. Natasha. She’s got jeans and a tank top on with a sweater over that looks a million sizes too big, completely different from the monochrome suit she last was sporting, but even in casual clothes the agent’s still unable to hide that she’s ready to fight anything if she must.

“[Y/N]!” It’s a wonder to behold as the thin line of a mouth unfurls into a bright smile, making Natasha’s face radiate. “You’re awake…kept me waiting long enough, babe.”

The endearment awakens butterflies in my belly. She’s by the bedside now, ignoring the doctors and nurses who’re plugging the wires back in the machine and do all sorts of other things. I can’t be bothered to check what they’re busy with either, all I care about is her smile and the way she holds my hand as if I might take off running any minute. But where would I go? In fact…

“Where are we?” I grimace at the hoarseness of my voice.

Reaching out, Natasha brushes some hair out of my face. “Somewhere safe.”

Although it’s comforting to hear, it’s not very informative or even surprising. Anything involving this kind of medical care and this hero must be good. The entire place is, now that I begin to look around, impressively high-tech and too spacious to be part of any publicly accessible hospital, not to mention that the bit of the view through the windows is full of sky and the top of buildings trying to reach as high as the one we’re in. By the door that everybody came running through is the triangular shape of Captain America and a smaller, but well trained, guy with short, messy hair. He looks friendly enough, I try to convince myself half-heartedly.

“You remember Steve, right?” Natasha has been watching me as I take in the surroundings.

“Yeah.”

The Captain. The hero of old, an incorruptible good guy according to all the stories I’ve heard. For me, however, it’s hard to feel any trust at the sight of him because of what he is: a guy. So what if both of those men helped at the club? The sight of them makes me tense.

Next to me the perfect face brightens with a new smile as if she’d expected me not to recall anything. “The other guy’s Clint, he’s my best friend.” Leaning in to rest her forehead against mine, she whispers, “Why didn’t you say you got hurt? We would have gotten you out of there.”

“Didn’t realize, I think.” Her brows furrow against my skin. “I had to uhm…had to see the b-that Stein got what he deserved.”

Never before in my life had I shot anyone, and not only had I expected it to be harder to actually pull the trigger, I also don’t feel any of the guilt I thought I would have to deal with. Maybe it’ll come. Pushing the concern away, I refocus on my body, sensing a dull ache in my right side for the first time. Yanking the covers and the gown they’ve dressed me in aside reveals very little (except that the movements makes it hurt a bit more) because the area is covered by thick bandages.

“It’s time [Y/N] gets some rest.”

It’s a petite Asian doctor talking, and she might as well have cast a spell because my eyelids get too heavy to keep open and the voices seem to come from further and further away.

…

I’m not entirely awake at first, but the pain that burns through my right side as I try to turn does the trick. Swearing loudly doesn’t soothe the pain, but it feels good anyways and I add few extra for good measure.

“You were lucky,” the petite Asian doctor addresses me from the door, “out of all the things that could’ve happened, it only hit your liver.” She’s made it to the tower of screens and is studying my vitals or whatever it shows. “I’m Doctor Helen Cho, by the way. You might be able to go home in a week if you come back daily the first while and someone’s there to look after you.”

Home. The home I’ve had is not a place I want to go back to, and before that…no, that’s not an option. “That…might not be possible.” I really try not to sound pathetic. “I’ve got no one and nowhere.”

Nearly black eyes pierce me as I lie there in the hospital bed. “Miss Romanoff would be sad to hear that…” The tiniest of smiles is tugging at a corner of Doctor Cho’s mouth. “She didn’t leave your side until the day you woke up, and since then only under protests.”

…

At first, I don’t like not knowing where I am, but as time passes where people are treating me nicely and the doctors and nurses tend to the wound expertly…it changes. They acts like they want me to get better for my sake and not to make money off of me. Both Steve and Clint drop by a few times, and the initial mistrust starts to fade slightly as they tell about their lives as Avengers. I almost start to enjoy their company, but what truly keeps my spirit up is Natasha.

Doctor Cho’s right about Natasha who insists on staying at my bedside at any opportunity, sometimes she chats about anything on her or my mind and if not, then we just sit quietly together. It feels right to be close to her and the feeling’s bolstered when she introduces the habit of holding my hand and I discover myself recalling the kiss we shared at the club. Her lips had been soft and demanding, molding perfectly against mine...but each time the urge to recreate that sensation presents itself, I get too nervous. Why would anyone want me for who I am? It’s too foolish, too conceited, to dream that Natasha’s feelings could be at all similar to mine, that she’d want to hook up with me when she knows what life I’ve led.

…

We’re watching a movie one evening, when she pauses it and turns to look at me. Her grey eyes scrutinize the tiniest change in my mimic, making me nervous.

“[Y/N]. I can barely begin to imagine what sort of hell you’ve lived in and everything you’ve had to survive…” She bites her lip in a way that makes me wish it was my teeth…or lip. But still I look away because I don’t want to talk about my time as Stein’s property. “[Y/N]…” The slender hand cups my cheek, turning my head carefully, gently. “You don’t have to talk about it, but if I say or do something that upsets you because of it...please tell me.”

“Uh…’kay.” A heavy lump is cooling down my stomach and making it hard to breathe right.

Natasha repositions herself before continuing. “Normally, I’d just…do it, but I don’t wanna scare you so…is it alright if I kiss you?”

I don’t answer, I just go for it, crushing my lips against her mouth greedily and ignoring the pain in my side. Her reaction is tender, and she allows me to set the pace as the kiss deepens and my tongue runs over her lips in search of a gap to slip through. She tastes of sweet bubble gum and the coffee she’s been drinking earlier. As if on their own, my hands reach to hold this fabulous woman closer, but the movement makes me wince.

“Okay. Alright.” She coos, pushing me gently back onto the bed. “I don’t want you hurt, babe. You need to get well so you can get out of the med-bay.” And go where? “Well…about that…” It’s impossible to hide the blush when I realize I must have spoken out loud. “Would you want to live with me? Maybe find out if we can work things out together? I don’t like the idea of you alone somewhere and…and…well, it makes me happy to wake up and know I’ll see you the same day.”

The lump in my stomach had melted while we were exploring each other’s mouths, in its place are butterflies and a serene feeling of belonging and a happiness I can’t recall ever having felt.

“I’d love that, Tasha.”

…

[iwritethat]

UnreQUITed - Part 2

Request: Would you be willing to write a part two of "UnreQUITed"? If you're not too busy with other requests? I'd greatly appreciate it, thank you so much!

Could you please do a part two to unreQUITed? It was so good! ❤️

Part 2 requests in general tbh

A/N: Here it is and I doubt it’s what you all were expecting... 😭

>>>>——————————>

~ Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~

Disappearing was probably the best decision you'd ever made, you'd returned to your roots - the heartless nature that made you once again assassin material. Although, you were not exactly in that line of work since you'd sworn off of killing for Dick Grayson long ago.

It wasn't that bad, with the amount of money you earn from gathering intel and obtaining certain items for your previous wealthy clientele, it was easy to maintain a luxurious lifestyle whilst on the run.

As expected, it would soon come to an end with the passing months but never did you imagine you'd be working a weapons merchant when it happened.

In your defence, you were there to retrieve the priceless stolen pistol of your client, one that had diamond encrusted detailing, used silver bullets and was the colour of silky ivory. As a result of its unique beauty, said arms dealer kept it on his person as a display of power - you were basically his right hand/resident charmer.

The meeting was interrupted when a set of crimson arrows soared through the air striking down his men with miraculous precision - however, due to your amplified reflexes you effortlessly caught the one targeting your heart. Not that you had one anymore.

Since the place was being raided anyway, you gave a tired sigh when knocking out your boss, his body falling to unconsciousness on the cold tile of the office whilst you apprehended the pistol. Just then, a henchmen flung through the door followed by his attacker who appeared to be wearing a red - oh no.

"(Y-y/n)?! You're alright and here?! Fuck I missed you!" This was weird, Jason immediately disarmed and embraced your confused form. The gesture was loving and kind, one that showed he truly did care and you almost felt guilty for not bidding adios to him personally.

"I- Jay I didn't..."

"And Hell nice suit/dress."

"Haha, do I look good?"

"You always look good. What are you doing here anyway - and why are you stealing my thunder?" The Red Hood crossed his arms expectantly, waiting for your answer.

"Ah, I'm working." A simple but honest statement on your part.

"Working - please tell me it's nothing bad I should worry about and fight you over? Also, that why you taking his gun?"

"Wow, don't you trust me Jason? I know I've been gone a while but I used to be your go to if I wasn't with your brother. Anyways, gotta go." You claimed, edging around him rather smoothly before disappearing into the night.

You weren't stupid, he was probably tracking you now because Jason hated losing people and he'd be damned if he let you vanish again. So later that night you sat casually atop a rooftop overlooking your city of the week in normal attire simply awaiting his arrival and moping about your awkward client. Your confederate had been travelling and now the new drop off point was freaking Gotham - it could be worse, it could be Blüdhaven.

A fleck of shimmering ambers filled your peripheral vision and displayed a smiling Kori and dangling Roy.

"(Y/n)! It's been so long dear friend."

"Wait?! This is (Y/n)?! The lackey that caught my arrow - damn Dick used to talk about you all the time. I can see why Jason mentioned you on a few occasions too." Roy cockily saluted in greeting once marvelling at who your actually were.

"Yeah yeah Harper you finally met (Y/n) (L/n), good for you. You knew I was coming huh?" Jason's voice mocked from behind you, accompanying his heavy footsteps.

"What a guess, I'm glad you've learnt something in my absence. Now how can I help you Outlaws?" Your response was sarcastic but playful.

"Actually I wanted you to join us, my answer is yes albeit late."

You clicked your tongue, and shook your head dismissively. "You didn't need me then Jason, so you don't need me now. Besides I'm better off on my own, if I run with you and Dick finds out we'll both be in trouble - only unlike you I can't be around him."

"At least come back to Gotham with me and catch up a bit? You didn't only leave your beloved Dickiebird behind y'know." Jason’s words were kind of a low blow but suited to the man they originated from.

"Okay, I owe you that." You punched the cocky anti hero in the shoulder and you had a meeting there anyway, 20% extra pay due to the change in location of your client.

~~~

Gotham City. It was strange being back to be honest and you had no intention of sticking around once you'd hit the drop off. The first thing on your checklist, as soon as you'd split from the Outlaws upon arrival, was meeting your client and returning his expensive lost artefact meanwhile attaining a large sum in your bank account. However, it seemed as one door closes, many more open thanks to the contacts your client has on hand. You weren’t the only renegade he knew and it seemed this job was most likely a set up judging by your clients chosen company.

"Ah, it's been a while (Y/n) (L/n)." That voice, it sent shivers down your spine, it was unmistakeable - one whose orders you mindlessly obliged by for many years until Dick saved you.

"It has. And I'd prefer it to be longer, good ridence." You didn't even bother turning to face him, hand waving in dismissal.

"What would your little birdie think of that behaviour? In fact I've heard you aren't fighting together anymore - what's a Nightwing without his heart hm? Now if you comply again, we won't have to find out will we?" The arrogant figure knew he'd struck a nerve as soon as you'd froze at the mention of a repressed ally. He had your high class skills hostage now, because even if you didn't love him, how could you let anyone lay a finger on Dick Grayson?

~~~

Clad in civilian attire, you propped yourself against the wall, a majority of your weight leaning on your back and foot kicked up on the bricks. Jason Todd emerged from the take away joint soon after, tossing a paper bag in your direction that shattered your dwelling on that recent but haunting memory. You gave him a questioning look once peering inside.

"How'd you know my favourite order?"

"Dick knew, I found out from him."

"Does he know?! That I'm here in Gotham? With you?"

"Nah, give me some credit doll."

"Don't call me that, anyway how've you been?" You began a nostalgic conversation, old memories and past experiences retold like a towns fable that kept you occupied until your food was tossed.

A melodious laugh escaped your lips, recalling one of your adventures.

"Miami was the best, this lovely woman tried- oh nooo..." As well as your speech, your body short circuited too when taking in the glimpse of raven hair and blue eyes, you'd have been fine if it wasn't so recognisable.

Jason suspiciously gazed in your line of sight and mentally facepalmed, he should've known that the Gods or Demons would've tried to bring you together again. Thankfully, Dick's attention was solely focused on Damian and before he could process what was happening you'd dragged Jason into the nearest alley and pinned him to the wall with a hand covering his mouth. Jason cocked a brow, removing your hand with a 'seriously?' look crossing his features but alas, your eyes were trained on his brother.

"Hey, relax. Focus on me instead or better yet getting out of this?"

"He's right there. I could go straight up and say hi, tell him that I've missed him... I could do that."

“I know, and in the interest of that promise you forced on me, the keeping you un-lovestruck one, you better forgive me for this.” The vigilante ensured your presence by wrapping his arms around your waist, closing the distance between you which now had your full attention since you couldn’t get away.

“Restraining me? Guess I should be thanking you huh.” You sighed hopelessly, cursing at Cupid for ever concocting his dysfunctional theory of love.

“Todd, thought we saw you run.” Damian called, his tone doubling as a warning. Of course the Wayne recognised you and wanted nothing more than to welcome you home but knew how you felt about Dick. It was best to leave matters for now instead attempting to delay his eldest sibling.

Internally you were freaking out, but you knew the youngest well enough to understand the hidden meaning - he was giving you time. He intentionally made an appearance before Dick could catch Jason, you didn’t have long but hopefully the shadowy uneven lighting of the alleyway would aid your concealment.

Hearing the fast approaching footsteps, you turned away from the alley entrance desperately praying that he wouldn’t recognise the back of your head as you shifted further into Jason’s touch. However, Jason was the quick thinking one, moving to capture your lips with his own, at first you were surprised but melted into it - people avoid PDA, it should encourage them to leave sooner.

“Damian, you could’ve waited you know. Huh hey I knew it was you Jay, and your partner...?” Dick Grayson, oh boy he was still amazing.

You clenched Jason’s leather jacket, palms sweating from the mere ripples of the lost tone as you pulled away from him. You’d hoped you’d forget his kind voice, the way it gently tugged at your heartstrings in a charming manner that always sped up your heartbeat, the way it sounded like a melody and was capable of reanimating the past memories you’d spent hearing it, how well it fitted into your life and fuelled your heart. As much as your love begged you, you couldn’t look at him and show your face or else he’d know instantaneously.

“Thanks for interrupting, whatcha want?” Jason casually stated, running a hand almost gingerly down your side.

“это личные дела, моя любовь. [[These are private matters my love.]]” Now the Russian accent was perfection and the language was fluent, convincing enough to be believable as you’d only learnt it in your absence meaning it was one less thing Dick could link to your identity. You certainly knew Richard could understand Russian, Jason too so when you felt him uncharacteristically melt, muscles relaxing and heart rate increasing upon hearing your last two words maybe he misheard?

“I’ll catch up with you both later but I’m on business right now.” Jason carefully informed them, sending a wink to his brothers signifying it was vigilante related and that was enough for them. With nods and goodbyes they were gone.

“My love? (Y/n), you learnt Russian?!” Jason asked breathlessly once they’d disappeared, however instead of being met with your usual blissful smile you were briskly removing sparkling tears.

You took a step back, trying to focus on anything else - a flare of disappointment sparked within you, you’d wholeheartedly believed you were over the mesmerising acrobat but that was easier to argue when not in his drawing presence as you’d recently learnt. Jason could only give you a sympathetic look as you built up your walls again, apparently weaker than you thought.

“They probably thought I was a Russian drug lord.” You forced laughter and a smug smile as the situation was amusing, but barely managing it through your silent sobs over Grayson.

“You’d make a good drug dealer.” The male in front of you automatically comforted, compliments always came easy with you no matter how distorted they were.

“Ahem, anyway thanks for the food but I should go back to my hotel. The quicker I leave Gotham the better.” It didn’t take long for you to fix yourself, saluting Jason who had offered to walk you back to your hotel.

The stroll provided time to say goodbye, as much as you weren’t expecting it he told you to keep in contact this time.

It was nice actually, to know they still cared about you even now and after your first disappearance. The thought put a warm flutter in the pit of your stomach, however that soon dispersed as you reached your bed. On it was a pristine box decorated with a matte black bow; one you hesitantly untied and begrudgingly opened.

The noir silk cascaded to the floor once you lay your eyes on its familiar contents, shades of the amber and black armor withholding your attention span. The suit was accompanied by a mocking note of your last encounter, the inscription ringing of that dark voice you never wanted to hear again as you read over it in your mind tenfold with blood pulsating at an unfathomable pace - it was like you could feel every cell throbbingly reject the so called ‘gift’. But after encountering him amidst the pistol exchange, the threat he’d made rang strong.

‘Welcome back, “моя любовь” was it? ~ Slade Wilson.’

[venactricisfics]

Connection

Negan X OC, Smut, Oral, Negan-like language. 

Prior Parts: Unexpected  What’s Life without a Little Risk Unbelievable 

@negans-network @neganmorgan @mypapawinchester@jeffreynegan @ask-kakashihatake

“When you go out there keep your mouth shut and just go along,” Laura says going through the rules of pick ups. “There’s fucked up shit that happens on the road. If it needs to happen just let it. Negan’s calling the shots. His word is the rule. Arat’s his number two today.”

“Do what he tells me no question, got it. Why aren’t you joining the pick up crew today?” I holster my gun and glance up at her hoping I wasn’t fucking everything up by tagging along.

“Simon has us setting up the outpost again. Hoping I get to be the head bitch in charge out there for once,” she laughs.

“Good luck with that,” I pull my hair back in a ponytail, “Anything I should keep an eye out for you?”

“I’m good. I gotta list of shit Carson is looking for. Just remember those assholes are the ones that killed Paula, Michelle, Donnie and Primo. They will try to convince you to help them. You look sweet so they’ll try. Just be careful,” she gives my shoulder a squeeze. “Alright?”

“I will, and you too. But you know Simon better than me,” I give her a grin.

“You know as well as I do how that itch needs to be scratched. You better get a move on.”

“I know, I don’t want to get left behind,” I head down the hallway and out the factory doors.

“Well hello to you,” I try to hide my smile at the sing songy voice of Negan’s as I step out. “Can’t get enough of me huh, sweetheart?”

“That and I’m coming along,” I glance up at him.

“Well, that tickles the shit outta me. I always wanted a little road head when I go to these things,” he smirks.

“You’re making me regret ever sucking your dick,” I respond.

“Guys are all ready to go, boss,” Arat says from behind me. My face turns a bright shade of red. I didn’t want anyone really to know that Negan and I were. Did. Hell, I don’t know what we are but I wasn’t ready for the entire Sanctuary to know.

“Don’t be silly,” he drapes his arm around my shoulders leading me in the direction of the truck, “we both know how much you loved sucking my dick.” He looks out over the group after sliding the truck door open for me, “Let’s head the fuck out.”

His words did little to change the color of my face back to its natural state but I was glad to find a seat in the back, behind the drivers, so I could regain a small piece of my dignity. “How is anyone gonna respect me if you keep telling them how good I suck dick?”

“That is a damn fucking fantastic skill, I couldn’t do it,” he chuckles, “I respect the shit out of you.” I grip the back of Arat’s seat as the truck lunges forward. “Do you respect her, Arat?”

She glances at me in her rearview.  Ninety percent of my interactions with her were strictly business. She is fierce. And fiercely loyal to Negan.

“I’ll let you know after today,” she offers me a slight smile, “I don’t have a use for her dick sucking skills.”

“Thanks,” I lean back in my seat as the road becomes steadier, quieter.  Giving me a chance to think. Or almost before Negan’s voice chimes in again.

“You should be in the lounge letting me take fucking care of you and not out here doing the fucking hot as hell work. I only do it cause I know the bullshit brigade feels more confident when I am at the fucking helm.”

I narrow my eyes at him curiously, “You asking me to be one of your wives? Cause if you are there’s no fucking way.”

“Well, actually I the fuck I was. Why wouldn’t you want to be in the lap of luxury letting your loving husband,” he gestures to himself, “take care of your every need?”

“Look, I like fucking you,” it didn’t matter at this point, Arat already knew, I wasn’t sure who knew or what but the cork couldn’t be put back in the bottle. “I want to keep liking fucking you.  I don’t want it to become my job.”

“Fair enough,” his grin widens, “You wanna come on collections and fuck some people up, I will be fucking ecstatic to have you there. If you wanna stay in your bed watching Lifetime movies, you can. I will not have you working for points anymore.” His final words firm, unyielding.

“I….” I stop my words short realizing I’d won at least the battle, if not the war.  He’d given me freedom from being his wife but also leaving the door open for possibility. “Thank you.”  

“Any fucking day I get to catch a glimpse of that fine ass of yours,” he glances back at me, a wide grin on his face, “is a good goddamn day.”

“I hate to interrupt your date,” Arat peers in the mirror again, “you get the list of meds Carlson needs?”

“I got it, he doesn’t seem to need a lot,” I pull the list from my back pocket.

“That’s your job for today, make sure Carlson’s list is taken care of,” she replies, “continue with your whatever the hell you two were doing.”

“Thanks, better than standing around and looking pretty,” I give Negan a wink, “How much further?”

“I look hot as fuck carrying Lucille on my shoulder,” he replies, “It’ll be another hour.”

“You look hot all the time, who are we fucking kidding,” I replied leaning my head against the window, “I’m gonna try to sleep until we get there to scare the shit out of some townies. And you can be the big bad wolf and blow all the shit down.” He chuckles, “I’ll give that shit some thought,” he reaches back giving my leg a squeeze, “rest need you on your A game. Unless you want to help me rub one out.”

“You have two hands,” I yawn closing my eyes.

__________________________________________

I’m jarred awake when the truck comes to a stop. “Well good morning, sunshine,” he grins back at me. “We /are/ here.” I sit up rubbing my eyes as the sign comes into to view, ‘Alexandria’.

“Nice place,” I look at the sign as he hops from the truck, “I always wanted to live in a gated community.” I take his hand letting him help me down.

“I better go ring the fucking bell,”  he gives me one of his killer grins then saunters over to bang on the gate with Lucille.

“Little pig, little pig let me /in/,” he sings. I shake my head and smile, moving up to stand near Arat, watching as the gate is opened. I couldn’t hear what the smug man on the other side of the gate said, “You /better/ be joking,” he responded, “Negan, Lucille, I know we made one hell of a first impression.”

“Who’s that?” I whisper to Arat when another man walk up behind the first. His sad blue eyes cast down in fear.

“That’s Rick,” she responded. “The prick responsible for this shit show.” I nod watching as Negan postures for the man. Swinging his bat into the skull of a dead asshole that was stumbling toward the open gate.

“Alright everybody, let’s get started, it’s a big day. You see that what I did, that was some /service/,” Negan says to Rick. I furrow my brow as he hands the other man Lucille and walks into the community.  I draw in a breath watching the terror and confusion on the townies’ faces. “Let’s get this over with,” I mutter.

“Arat!” Negan barks. And she follows with an order to move. The tension so thick between us and them it could be cut with a knife. Negan watches as I walk by leaning in to speak to Rick loudly, “Damn I have /not/ decided if I like watching her coming or going best.”

“I can still hear you,” I call back to him over my shoulder.

“That is because I was using my outside voice,” he grunted turning his attention back to Rick. I can’t help but smile to myself as I walk out of earshot.

“Is this the infirmary?” I ask one of the citizens. She nodded rolling her eyes at me before walking away. I walk up the steps and feel a hand grab my ass. Davey. Creepy fucking Davey. He always looked at me like he wanted to eat me. My eyes sharp as I turn back to him, “You touch me again and I will break your goddamn hand.”

“Bitch, you think because you’re fuckin’ the boss that makes you shit?”

“Actually,” I narrow my eyes at him, “I know it does. Now keep your fucking hands to yourself if you want to keep them attached to your body.”

“Whatever,” he pushes past me and opens the door to the house.

“Dr. Carlson needs more gloves, antibiotics, pain meds if they got any.  Amber’s mom needs anti inflammatories,” I feel wierd looking for shit for Negan’s wives. But I push that to the pit of my stomach. I couldn’t let myself get jealous over them. Hell, he’d just given me the freedom to do whatever I wanted. I’m sure there’s some kind of catch. There’s always a catch.

“Put them back!” I walk out from the supply closet seeing a kid with a patch over his eye pointing a gun at Davey.  

“Hey, kid,” I move in front of him, in hindsight, it was probably a stupid thing, “put the gun down.” The kid points the gun over our heads and fires a shot, “You said half our stuff. That’s more than half.”

“I know the deal. And I sure as shit wanted to shoot that asshole at least twice this week, but if you shoot him, shit is gonna get so much worse before it gets better, put the gun down, I don’t want to have to carry this shit out by myself,” I lock my gaze with the kid’s.  Raising them only when the door swings open behind him and the guy, Rick, walks through the door, followed by Negan.

“Carl, put it down,” Rick urges.

“They’re taking all our medicine, he said only half,” Carl responds raising his gun up higher.

“Really kid?” Negan swaggers in stopping beside me. Still smiling as he looks from the kid to me then back.

“You should go,” Carl says, “before you find out how dangerous we all are.”

“Pardon me young man. Excuse the fuck out of my goddamn French, but did you just threaten me?” he asks, “Look I get threatening Davey. But I can’t have it. Not him, not me. And sure as shit not her.”

“Carl, just put it…” Rick starts to say.

“Don’t be rude Rick, we are having a conversation here,” he cuts his eyes back to the boy, “Where was I, oh yes your giant man sized balls. No threatening us. I like you. And I don’t want to go hard proving a point. You don’t want that. I said half your shit and /half/ is what /I/ say it is.”

I watch them trying to keep myself from trembling. I knew in my gut Negan wouldn’t hurt the kid. But I couldn’t get a read on the kid or Rick. I wasn’t sure how far off the rails they actually were. This seemingly terrified people broke into the satellite station and killed twenty people in their sleep. They were the enemy. Not us.

“Do you want me to prove how serious I am /again/?” Negan continues with the boy. He sighs and hands the gun over to his father. Negan grabs it from him, “You have an absolute ass-load of guns and this little emotional outburst has made crystal clear. I can’t allow that. They’re all mine now. So tell me, where are my guns?”

I let out a breath when Rick leads them from the house. “Pack this shit up, I’ll be back.” I take the steps after them two at a time. I slow my footsteps when I catch up with them.

“You alright, baby?” Negan asks.

“I just needed some air. Too much of that manly bullshit in there,” I shoot him a wink, “I want to take a look at the guns.”

“You got it. You can help Arat with the inventory,” he grins, “I’ll give you first grab at one for yourself.” I can’t help but smile. The garage door rolls open in front of us. I lock my gaze with that of another terrified woman.

“I was expecting you,” she said her voice as shaky as she was.

“Olivia, show them the guns,” Rick stated.

“The armory’s inside,” she starts back down the hall.

“You take care of all of this?” I ask, looking at the shelves then back to her.

“I keep track of it all. The rations, the guns,” she replied.

“Don’t let me stop you,” Negan said, “Take her and the boys and show ‘em the goods.” I follow Olivia and Arat down the hallway to the next room. It was packed almost floor to ceiling with every conceivable firearm.  Olivia hands me the register, “I keep a log there.” Her hand shaky as she shows me the list of what weapons were gone out with people on runs.

“We’re not here to hurt you,” I hop up on the desk, “we’re here to keep your people from hurting us again.”  I push the inventory list to Arat. “There is a fuck ton of weapons on that list everything looks organized.”  Arat checks off each weapon as the men load them and carry them out.

“How can you be with a man like /that/?” Olivia whimpers motioning her head in the direction of the garage.

“I could ask you the same question,” I hop down and walk outside. I bite my lip grabbing a desert eagle from a stack of guns that was being carried out by Daryl.  “This is the one I want.”

Negan laughs, taking the gun from me, “This gun is as big as you are.”

“Are you saying I can’t handle something this,” I give him a smirk, “big?”

“Oh baby, I know how well you can handle big things,” he places the gun back in my hand, standing behind me, “How well have you been taking care of my guns?” his eyes turn to Rick then motions for me to fire. I point at the window and squeeze the trigger, knocking the shutter off its hinges.

“Feels good,” I hand him back the eagle, “Sounds good.”

“Baby, you trying to get me all hard and shit while I’m trying to have a discussion with my boy, Rick?”

“I wasn’t exactly trying,” I smirk pulling my .22 from its holster and replacing it with the more impressive weapon.

“Please don’t…” I turn my eyes hearing Olivia whimper as Arat shoves her up the steps.

“We don’t do that, unless /they/ do something to deserve it,” Negan states.

“Yeah,” she replies, “I went through their inventory and they’re short a Glock 9 and a .22 Bobcat.”

“Is that true?” Negan looks at Olivia who nods her head.

“The inventory is correct,” she replied.

“That’s good but also not good,” he states, “You’re two handguns short. I don’t enjoy killing women. Men, I can kill all the livelong. But Olivia, my dear, at the end of the day this was your responsibility.” My mouth opens to protest but then closes again, remembering who is actually in charge here. I couldn’t make him look weak. Not in front of these people.

“We can work this out,” Rick pleads.

“Yes, we can,” I respond, trying to hide the frustration in my voice.

“And I’m /going/ to right now,” Negan catches Olivia’s arm, “Guns were your responsibility and you screwed up.” He cuts his gaze back to Rick, “Find them /now/.” I watch Rick rush off to their church to meet with his people.

“What are you gonna do?” I ask softly, as we sit down on the patio chairs.

“I’m a man of my word, sweetheart,” he responds, “If the guns aren’t here Olivia is gonna pay the price.” I close my eyes nodding, “Alright.” I tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “Olivia, why don’t we mix up some lemonade? Get your mind off of it. If your friends are smart they’ll give up the guns.”

I tremble stirring the mix into the water looking out the window as the water turns from clear to yellow. Davey again harassing a girl. She couldn’t be more than sixteen. I look down feeling my stomach churn, my eyes watering when I carry the pitcher back outside.

Negan looks at me his normal grin fades slightly when he sees my face. “I’m fine.” I mouth, hoping there is some truth to the words. The people became more than just the enemy when they were scared shitless. The people here, most of them don’t look like they could survive five minutes outside of these walls. But they killed our people, I reminded myself.

“What you got for me Rick?” Negan’s voice interrupts my thoughts. Rick hands him a bag with the missing handguns in it. “Funny how a little ‘Holy shit! Somebody’s gonna die!’ really lights a fire under everybody’s ass.”

“Which one of your people almost killed Olivia?” I asked.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” he answered meekly.

“It’s a hell of a place you got here, Rick,” Negan says as we finish loading up. “You sir, are special.  We’re coming back soon. And when we do you need to have something interesting for us. No more magic guns.” Negan cuts his eyes to me with a smirk, “Let’s get home. I wanna fuck my girl before and after dinner.”  I shake my head with a smile, climbing up into the truck. I watch from the seat as he smacks a walker in the head with a candlestick. He grabs Lucille from Rick and climbs up in the truck after me.

“Jee-sus, that was one hell of a fucking tense ass shit trip,” his lips turn into a devilish smile, “Hurry home, I am hard as hell unless she’s changed her mind about that road head. It’s gonna be awhile before she blows me.”

“I haven’t changed my mind. You can wait an hour,” I move from his seat to mine in the back as the truck moves down the road, I give him a smirk, “I hope I can.”

_____________________________________________

“We’re home,” I’m not sure how long I’ve enjoyed hearing his sing songy voice.

“Good, I’m horny and hungry,” I smirk as I hop down from the truck, avoiding locking eyes with his. “I haven’t decided which itch I want to scratch first.” I open the Sanctuary doors and walk inside. I could feel his gaze follow after me before his footsteps. He catches my shoulder spinning me around pushes me against the wall, “You don’t get to say shit like that and walk away.”

“I don’t?” I rest my hands on his sides, “I was just stating a fact.” My eyes dark as I look up at him, “I was hoping you’d be the one to solve all my problems.”

“You know I will,” he smirks lifting my chin, his lips press fully against mine. I open my mouth, my tongue dancing with his. I could feel the kiss deep in my core.

“Are you gonna fuck me against the wall in front of everyone?” I break the kiss, glancing around as half the factory was looking at us, “Or take me back to your room?”

“Day-um, girl, you almost made me forget where I was,” he scoops me up throwing me over his shoulder, “The rest of you shits back to whatever the fuck you were doing.” I giggle as he carries me down the hall. He pushes open his apartment door and kicks it closed behind him, wasting no time before dropping me on the bed.

I raise up to on my elbows watching him, “I wouldn’t have objected to being fucked against the wall.” I glide my tongue over my lips, “The secret is already out.”

“I give two shits if they know,” he lowers the zipper of his jacket dropping it on the arm of the leather couch, “especially if it makes you mine.”

I toe off my boots and pop the button of my jeans, “I can’t be your wife, Negan. Not like them. I don’t /need/ you to take care of me.” I lift my hips and push my jeans down as he tugs his shirt over his head.

“Fuck, this shit isn’t supposed to be fucking complicated,” he groans moving to the bed.

“It’s less complicated when you are inside me,” I sit up fully on the bed, my hand rests on his bearded cheek and I pull his face to mine. My leg hooks around his hip and I pull him flush against me. His cock hard grinding against my damp panties through his jeans.  I smirk against his lips as I tug his belt open, dipping my hand inside his pants, stroking him long and slow.

“You are a fucking tease baby,” he groans against my lips. “Since I laid eyes on you this morning you’ve been teasing me.”

“I didn’t mean to,” I shift so that we’re laying beside each other on the bed, my hand still stroking his member. “I missed you though,” I suck softly on his lower lip, then trail kisses over his jawline and down his neck. Moaning at the taste of his salty flesh. I push him to his back, smiling as he relinquishes control. My lips nibble and their way along his chest and over his stomach. His cock twitches in his pants as I press a soft kiss through them.

“Goddamn,” he utters, “I fucking missed the fuck outta you too.” He kicks his boots off and pushes his pants down, chuckling as his now free cock almost hits me in the face, “he needs your attention, baby.”

“Does he now?” I swirl my tongue around the head. “I guess I’ll have to give it to him.” I groan wrapping my lips around his head. Suckling soft, slow, savoring the taste of him. Negan’s hand reaches down stroking my hair. I take him deeper, my hand moving down massaging his balls. My lips tight and my tongue skims along his shaft, teeth grazing slightly. His grip on my hair tightens. I groan moving my mouth faster up and down his length. I slurp and suck as he begins to thrusts. I let the tip hit the back of my throat with a moan of my own. I could feel his cock thicken, twitching as he gets closer and closer.

“Oh fuck, baby,” he slows his movements, giving me back the control I need, I stroke and suck as he releases in my throat, I suck and lick and swallow each satisfying drop. “Goddamn, shit, fuck, that was good.” I smile over at him as I fall to the bed beside him. “I fucking mean it,” he looks at me, “you make me see fucking stars everytime you suck my dick. It’s fucking magical.”

“Thank you,” I watch him smiling, his pants still around his thighs, “I am glad you enjoyed.”

“I more than fucking enjoyed,” he pulls me to his chest, “Give me a minute, fuck, for my legs to work again.” I can’t help but chuckle. “You can’t fucking tell anyone that you are my fucking kryptonite.”

“Stop,” I press my face into his shoulder to quiet my laughs, “I am hungry. What do you have to eat in here since you can’t walk and take me for a proper meal?” I stand from the bed. I tug the hair tie from my hair and let it cascade down my back. He reaches down pulling his pants back up.

“I got whiskey,” he chuckles nodding at the bottle of jack on the table in the corner, “and salted nuts.”

“Is your plan to starve me into submission?” I turn back to him smiling, “I am already here.”

“I hadn’t thought about that,” he sits up pulling me into his lap, his hands gripping my hips, “I can’t have you starve though. I like your ass just as it is.”

“We can go down stairs grab a tray of food from the kitchen,” I lean back against his chest, “But that would require pants.”

“I am not fucking ready for you to get back in your pants. I /just/ got you out of them.” He gives my tit a squeeze over my shirt.

I groan at his touch, my hips rolling slowly in his lap, “How do we solve this problem?”  He reaches over grabbing his walkie and calls for Fat Joey, telling him to bring some food up.

Negan wraps his arm around my waist to stop my movements. “Fuck, if you ain’t already tryin’ to make my dick hard again. I sure as shit don’t want Fat Joey walking in while I’m pounding into you.”

“I never figured you to be the shy one,” I tilt my head pressing my lips to his, “So, what do you want to do until dinner comes?” He lifts me up and drops me on the bed then plops beside me.

“Let me just have a fucking look at you,” he lays on his side and I turn to face him, “you sure you don’t wanna be my wife? You’d look hot as hell in a black dress and heels.”

“Hell no,” I push my hair out of my face, “I hate wearing dresses, can’t walk in heels. Don’t want someone to just take care of me.”

“I want to fucking take care of you,” he says, “keep you out of the shit show.”

“I can handle the shit show,” I rest my hand on his face, “I can take care of myself. Wouldn’t you rather I be with you because I want to, not because I feel obligated to? I can be yours if you want me,” I lock my gaze with his, “I just can’t be one of them.”

“Shi-ot,” he responds, “you drive one hell of a fucking bargain, baby.” He presses his lips to my forehead as his hand gropes my tit. “You are /mine/. If you keep giving me head like that I can bend the fucking rules.”  

“You are all about the rules though,” I lift my face to his pressing my lips to his, “thank you.” A knock at the door interrupts the kiss. “Dinner.” I smile as he rolls from the bed.

“Fat Joseph,” he chuckles as he opens the door, “/my/ girl wants me to feed her before I fuck her so get your ass in here with her food.” My face flushes a pink. He looks over at me, “Why you acting all bashful now?”

“Yes, sir. Negan,” he brings in the tray of food in and sets it on the table. “Anything else you need?” Joey looks from Negan to me with a dumb grin on his face.

“Don’t look at her,” Negan barked, “Get the fuck out.” He slams the door after the man.

“Looks good,” I step from the bed taking a carrot from the plate, “I used to hate eating cooked carrots.” I chew then swallow, “But now I love them. Guess a lot changes at the end of the world.”

“Come over here and sit down with me,” he pats the seat next to his, “I fucking need a closer look at those titties.”

“I was having trying to have a moment with you,” I take a seat next to him, picking up another piece of carrot.

“Nobody likes carrots,” he chuckles picking one up and taking a bite, “except fucking rabbits.” He gives my thigh a squeeze, “I think I like you better without pants. If you won’t wear a dress just a t-shirt that clings to your titties like that is fine with me.”

“I like you better without pants too. If you want to walk around the Sanctuary in just your underwear so will I,” I grab a fork and jab it into the mystery meat on my plate.

“I am the leader of the Saviors,” he grins, “and you’re my...what are we gonna call you.”

“Lover, Queen,” I smirk straddling his lap, “Goddess. Baby. Light of your life. Any one of those work for me. Or we can not have a label.”

He chuckles, sliding his hands along my thighs, cupping my ass, “I like you even more when you’re sitting in my lap like that.” He grinds up into me. I groan leaning in to kiss him.  My hand reaches between us tugging at the button of his pants to pull his cock out again. Without breaking the kiss he lifts my hips up pushes my panties aside and grins against my lips. “I love how fucking wet you get for me.” I line him up with my warm wet entrance and sink down fully on his length. “Jee-sus, baby,” he groans into my lips as I take him all the way in, “I almost forgot how fucking fantastic your pussy feels.”

“Shhh…” I moan as I start to rock my hips, my fingers clinging to his shoulders for balance as I move. His grip on my hips tightens and he thrusts up into me matching my movements. Rock for rock thrust for thrust we move together. I moan when his hand moves between us rubbing my clit causing me to squeeze tighter around him. Move faster. I groan when he lifts me laying me on my back on the couch and drives his cock hard and deep inside my warmth, hitting the spot that makes me come undone. My thighs tighten as they start to tremble around his hips and my walls pulse around him. “Fuck, Negan,” I cry out as I cum, my eyes dark as they fix on his. He pulls out stroking his cock a few times before releasing on my shirt.

“Goddamn, shit,” he chuckles his pants still almost on and covered with my juices. “I like that shit.”

“I know,” I tug my shirt up and over my head after adjusting my panties, “here’s the evidence.” I giggle tossing it in his direction.

“You did not just throw your cum covered shirt at me,” he lifts me up in his arm and swats my ass with his palm.

I squeal, “It’s your cum. Take me to bed now. You have successfully warned me out.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he chuckles and carries me over to the bed. He drops me and tugs off his clothes and climbs in beside me. “Rest now.” I tuck myself in his side and close my eyes. Feeling right next to him.

[extraquarterblog]

Gone but not forgotten, the story of Project Offset

Project Offset

The beauty of being a gamer, is that there's always a high degree of excitement for the next AAA release. The industry over the years has delivered so many new series or sequels, that regardless of the year, there's always a title to look forward to on the calender. While some games release on time, others well, get delayed a bit, and then you have some titles, pushed back years. It's a level of frustration that few can understand outside being a gamer. All the teasing, videos, images, demos, that tug on a gamers heart for years n years till the final release date, becoming a passionately exhausting roller coaster. 

Unfortunately, history has shown, there are a select few titles, despite the enormous attention and potential, will never see the light of day. None showed so much promise, potential and excitement, arguably more than Project Offset. 

Now for some of you reading, might be wondering What's Project Offset? Well, don't feel bad if you don't have a clue to what it is. Project Offset originally made its debut a decade ago. A time where YouTube was just starting, Myspace was all the rage, and service pack 3 for Windows XP wasn't a thing yet. So back then, it was actually pretty easy to overlook a new trailer or projects studios were working on. But for those who do know what Project Offset is, undoubtedly feel a slight bit of sadness towards the game that never was. 

"We're making a first person shooter, set in a epic fantasy world, rendered at cinematic quality"

To bring you all up to speed. In 2005, a new studio by the name Offset Software demonstrated a revolutionary new engine, showcasing stunningly beautiful visuals that pretty much shocked the industry. The original demo gave several different glimpse of a Kingdom of old, under attack by unknown invaders, Dragons and Orcs. Project Offset also had a unique twist to the FPS approach as well, instead of machine guns like Halo or Call of Duty, it used crossbows, stealth and magic. The whole display screamed Lord of The Rings, which released their final film in late 2003. To quote the original video "We're making a first person shooter, set in a epic fantasy world, rendered at cinematic quality." And that was the thing,at the time, the visuals were so damn amazing, that it did appear to reach the mythical unicorn, a video game that had the visuals of a big blockbuster Hollywood film - The ultimate wet dream for a gamer. 

On-line debates of fans posting comparison pictures of the Orcs from Lord of The Rings and the Orc shown in the Offset Demo are still fresh in my mind. Though the difference was still clear that Hollywood, still several steps ahead, but everyone agreed, this has been the biggest jump towards a cinematic presentation then ever before. However - not everyone was convinced. The Gaming industry has been plagued by fake "real time" demos and constant PR bullshots for decades, why should this be any different? Especially when very little was known about Offset studios, not to mention its very small size. The few staff members that we knew were Sam McGrath, Travis Stinger and Trevor Stringer, who all previously worked for S2 Games. 

For the most part, Offset Studios was an enigma, despite all the red flags, everyone was too busy drooling over the gorgeous videos and images. 

If Offset Studios was famous for its Project Offset demo, then it was equally famous for how little information they ever gave out and their silence. Which made it incredibly frustrating for its fans. There was no twitter to make cryptic tweets, or a blog to leave little nuggets of info on how the development going, wouldn't appear till years later. Nope. Nothing. The only place, where you could get the slightest glimmer of anything Offset related was on the official website forum. Which had its own unique community, that grew over the course of Offset life, creating its own distinct culture. The lack of any information didn't stop the devoted to scrubbing through every single frame of the few videos released and discussing any tidbit of graphical hardware related to Nvidia or ATI. 

They worshiped various Idols, none so more famous than the fabled Teapot, the holy grail of the game. Some believed the Teapot would be the final boss. An unstoppable foe which could summon the very fabric of life, creating a sea of monsters to fight. All hail the Teapot! Joking aside, random objects fans happened to spot from the demos soon became viral. For instance the Teapot I was talking about, one of the videos showed a room filled with little trolls running around, and at the corner of the screen, you could see a 3D Teapot model in the background, that seemed all the trolls were appearing from. Little things like this, gave this little corner of the internet life, as fans waited hand and foot for any crumb to devour. 

Offset Software living up to their reputation of remaining silent, leaving fans empty, with hardly any details given - For years. Rumors of the entire project were nothing more than smoke and mirrors continued to grow and the online community numbers would continue to whittled down to only a few active members left. Project Offset, the most promising looking title had all but vanished. Until one fabled day in early 2007, a leaked video showcasing entirely new artwork and video footage spilled out onto the interwebs. Causing an eruption of hype, the game was real and more importantly, it was alive. Though, despite the warm feedback from the community, it seemed the higher staff was not happy at all about the video being leaked. Supposedly, it was made for internal purposes only. Official quote the man himself: It has come to our attention that a video we made for internal purposes was leaked and is being spread around. Again, this video was for internal use only and we didn't intend to release it publicly. We'd like to request that news sites, please not post this video - Sam McGrath.

Of course, this only leads to further speculation and rumors surrounding the game. Why create an internal video demonstrating the game to such a small staff size? Are they aware of what they're working on? The video is getting fantastic attention and praise, why try to remove it? Something was amiss with Offset Software, which, of course, continuing their fine reputation. Went underground, Again. 

The world of Project Offset remained silent once more for some time until an unthinkable bombshell scenario hit. Intel, the giant semiconductor, CPU making beast, in early 2008 - purchased Offset Software. It was the shot that rang across the world kind of moment. Why did Intel have any remote interest in a software gaming company? Well, if you recall, years and years ago, Intel had great interest getting in the GPU market, to rival against Nvidia or ATI. Working on their own card under the code name Larrabee. Intel GPU was supposed to deliver unheard of gaming performance, showcasing real time Ray tracing, which was unheard of at the time. So, if you had an unbelievable graphic card, what better than to pair it up with an unbelievable game, Project Offset. 

Naturally, everything about was met with mix emotions. More red flags continued to be raised and speculation about the earlier leaked internal video was originally made to pitch to Intel to seal a deal. While others felt relief that Offset Software now resting on the shoulders of Intel would have all the resources needed and time to develop the game. As for a while, people began to wonder, if this game was ever going to see the light of day...

Thankfully, Offset Software started to release a few additional demos and pictures, showcasing other interesting tidbits of their engine. Giving hope that the project was well alive and the partnership with Intel looked to be a fantastic match made. A complete 180 from a company, previously famous for being so tight lipped. A steady flow of information continued to dip out throughout 2008 and early 2009. A promising sign that the development was going well, and fans began to speculate that Offset Software was getting ready to completely unveil the game from their shroud of mystery and even possibly a release date. The game been in development for several years now, surely something should be coming.

Then everything went quiet. 

Did the company go back to their traditional ways? Was Project Offset deep in development Hell? Were things going sour with Intel? Regardless of rumors floating around. Things didn't feel right. 

Sadly, in early July 2010. Intel canceled their Larrabee project and scrapping everything connected to it. Including Offset Software, which at the same time disbanded. For any fan, who follows a game in development for years and years, this is, without any argument the very worst possible scenario. Gone, done. Goodbye. There was no Larrabee, no Offset studio, and Project Offset will forever remain nothing more than a video, sitting on YouTube. 

After the disbanding of Offset Software, few details are known what happened with the original staff. Several employees split ways left to do their own thing while a portion of the staff joined together to create a new company Adhesive games.  Who already have one release under their belt Hawken, A title you can play right now. While the former Offset leads created a new smaller company Fractiv, making mobile App games. 

Questions piled up after the fateful day, fans who chased after Project Offset was left with very little closure. No one would get any answers until a post on Fractiv website giving a few details, relating to the ending with Intel and showing off a few pieces of Project Offset:

"Our previous company, Offset Software, was purchased by Intel in 2008. Our labor of love was Project Offset and the game engine that went with it. As many of our fans already know, Project Offset was cancelled. The graphics hardware it was being designed for did not ship and our game was a casualty of this. The IP and Engine are property of Intel so its future is out of our hands. We have tried working with Intel to obtain the rights and there are some good people there who have made some effort to help us, but without success. We would like to thank all those who supported us and the project. We learned some good lessons along the way and met some incredibly talented people who we are fortunate enough to call our friends"

So with that, answered several questions relating to the fate of Project Offset and Intel. On that same blog, Sam shared a portfolio reel piece that belonged to one of the animators who worked on Project Offset showcasing never before seen footage, including a few brief pieces that included audio, showing the game was at the stage of voice acting. Sadly, that would be the last piece shown of Project Offset for several years...

Until last year, a sound engineer who previously worked with Intel, posted a few videos, all never before seen footage of stages and enemies, including a few boss fights, showcasing that the game was indeed in playable form. Answering one of the age old question, was the game smoke n mirrors, or was it legit? Seeing these final videos, shows, that Project Offset was indeed real and at some point playable. 

Despite its age, the game still looks gorgeous, the atmosphere and detail is top notch, I would be so bold to say, lives up to today's titles on the current consoles. A little rough around the edges, but that should be a true testament to just how unbelievable this game was when it made its debut a decade ago. A title with graphics that would be several consoles ahead. It's a tragic story, what could of been, to imagine not only how great Project Offset could of been, but what Offset Software could of done next.