#intel chief

[marinatedsaltea]

What if Decepticon propaganda poster

[dread-red-queen]

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[jack-inaboxx]

Hrrm. Thinking about reworking Columbia's crew again.

[news47offical]

Putin is increasingly aware of how poorly his military is doing in Ukraine, US intel chief says

Putin is increasingly aware of how poorly his military is doing in Ukraine, US intel chief says

Russian President Vladimir Putin.Contributor/Getty Images Putin had initially been kept in the dark about Russia’s failures in Ukraine, earlier reports said. But the US director of national intelligence said Saturday that he was “becoming more informed.” Avril Haines said Putin was “surprised” but not deterred by Russia’s military performance. Russian President Vladimir Putin is increasingly…

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Triple D.

Perlude

“We need assistance!”

Shouted the elite Navy SEAL into his earpiece. He was taking cover behind a low, nearly destroyed concrete wall to avoid the many bullets flying at him and his small task force. They’ve been in Aleppo, Syria for a little over two weeks and each day becomes increasingly violent. Senior Chief Petty Officer, John Stevens–Kelly, with his team of fellow SEALS are outnumbered by the Russian Military.

“Chief, this is base! We’re doing all we can to find you some backup! With the Marines and the Army being dispatched throughout Sudan and Iraq, we’re spread a bit thin! We will do our best to send assistance!”

Lieutenant Commander Karen Greer, is trapped in an abandoned building across from them and without proper backup, John Stevens–Kelly can’t get to her to see if she’s alive. Dust and debris crowded his vision and one by one he watched in horror as his men fell to their knees and died. It was supposed to be an easy escape and rescue of a CIA operative who was taken hostage by a suspected pro-Assad paramilitary group. It turned out to be the Russian Military.

“Damnit,” John fired rounds from his AK47 that was nearly out of bullets, “Guys, we’re on our own! Watch your six and try to keep out of the fire!”

A few SEALS tossed grenades to buy them some time as they moved toward the abandoned building. Structures were exploding and coming down on them and hostiles were coming in fast. If the base doesn’t send anyone, they are all dead. The mission was a disaster from the beginning. All they had to do was collect the hostage, get some intel, and get the hell out. A few days stretched into two weeks.

“Chief?! We’ve got you covered! They’re dropping in now!”

John hid himself behind a brick wall and spoke into his earpiece.

“Who’s dropping in?!” John replied firmly.

Dirt swirled like a small tornado when two helicopters swooped down and soldiers wearing all black slid down from a rope with guns blazing and ninja–like abilities. The Russians didn’t stand a chance. One-by-one they were taken out by the unknown soldiers. There was one soldier that stood out above the others and moved as if he were bulletproof.

John took that opportunity to run as fast as he could to the abandoned building to find Lieutenant Commander Karen Greer. He ditched the AK47 for a pistol and when he finally crossed over into the building, Russian troops jumped out of their hiding place and John took them out immediately. He could see the soldiers dressed in black enter and spread out in search. One soldier, however, took his place in front of John. He removed his all black balaclava and helmet, revealing himself to John.

“Killmonger.” John says, a slow laugh echoing from his mouth, “Nigga, where have you been?! You show up now?!”

Erik Stevens, a former United States Navy SEAL who was eventually assigned to a Ghost Unit for the Military, stood before his twin brother after two months of no contact.

“You know we work off the grid, bro. Deeper shit than rescuing some crooked ass CIA officials. Glad to see you’re still breathing.”

“Glad to see you’re not dead in a fuckin’ ditch somewhere, E. What the hell have you been up to?”

“The less you know, the better,” Erik handed John a gun, “Let’s make this shit speedy before more Spetsnaz show up.”

The twins together were the strongest. John missed the days when he worked alongside his brother, but Erik grew tired of the straight arrow. He wanted to get his hands dirty in ways John couldn’t agree with. Erik becoming a mercenary formed a wedge between them for a while, especially because John didn’t enjoy killing for sport like his twin. Erik was ruthless and cynical, whereas John only showed that side of him in the line of duty. There were plenty of times where John and Erik bumped heads.

The brothers made their way deeper into the abandoned building and finally discovered Lieutenant Commander Karen Greer and the CIA Operative hiding in a small room. The CIA Operative had a gunshot wound to his left thigh. Relief washed over Karen Greer’s face when she spotted John. She leaped up into his arms and hugged him tightly.

“Aight, save the reunion for later! We gotta go!” Erik shouted aggressively.

Erik carefully pulled the CIA Operative up and they quickly made their way towards the helicopter. Karen Greer bit her tongue while following them out of the room. She couldn’t stand Erik, and it was partly due to the fact that he was the reason things never worked out between John and her. She disliked the fact that John defended his hot-headed brother, even when he was wrong. She’d craved John’s love but deep down she knew it would never be the same.

Back outside, they succeeded with making it out alive and the helicopter took off. Karen Greer attended to The CIA Operative’s wound by creating a tourniquet to stop the bleeding. John made eye contact with his brother and he reached his hand out to clasp Erik’s firmly. Karen Greer watched the interaction with a neutral expression. It was silent the entire ride to base. Killmonger and his team remained on the helicopter while the few remaining SEALS, Karen Greer, and John Stevens–Kelly helped the CIA Operative to base.

__________

One Week Later:

Lagos, Nigeria was where John went to meet with his twin brother. It’s been a week since they’d seen each other and it would be good to catch up. John made his way into a striking waterfront home within a gated community wearing a v-neck, long-sleeve, khaki tunic with matching pants. He removed his shades and began pacing the grand entryway with curiosity.

John took a chance and stepped forward, eyes moving from left to right. Before him was a double, rounded staircase and to his left was a large study and to his right was a family room. John entered the family room and placed his duffel bag on the floor next to an end table with a large African head statue crafted from a tree trunk.

“Pay him handsomely. He deserves it…”

John spotted a portly, Nigerian man with a big grin wearing a traditional Nigerian caftan in all white with colorful embroidery and matching white pants. Killmonger stood before him at a towering height of 6’4 wearing a fitted black T-shirt with dark camouflage pants and black boots. He shook the man’s hand firmly with a slight smirk before turning his dark gaze onto a butler that held out a recondite sepia leather duffle bag for him to take.

“We will do business again, Killmonger. In the meantime, Make you enjoy your stay in Lagos…”

John watched the man and his servant leave the magnificent home. Killmonger’s heavy hand clasped John’s shoulder and he turned towards his identical twin abruptly.

“Didn't think you’d actually show up, bruh. Good to see you J.”

They hugged each other tightly before letting go.

“Whose house are we in?” John questioned.

“Don’t worry about all that. Just know it’s ours for a few days. You hungry? Want something to eat? Drink?”

John didn’t automatically respond to Erik. He was being hyper vigilant. His eyes scanned every nook and cranny of that enormous estate.

“My bag—”

“John. Relax. It’s just me and you here. No more unorganized missions and Karen’s mess. You get to put all that shit behind you and unwind. When was the last time you had that, bro? And please don’t tell me that old story about us drag racing on the Los Angeles River. That shit happened when we were eighteen.”

Erik thrust a glass filled with amber liquid into John’s hand. John was the definition of the ‘perfect soldier’. Loyal, noble, and dependable on top of being a tactician and strategist. When he’s in the war zone, he’s ruthless. That part of his life has always been hard to relax from. Even when it comes down to relationships. He’d always been afraid to grow with a woman because of what he does for a living. Too many times he’s witnessed fellow SEALS slaughtered in their own homes.

Unbeknownst to his crazy brother, John would love to have a companion. Someone he could come to whenever he made it home safely. Whether it be a serious commitment or strictly physical. He could never have that with Karen no matter how hard he tried. He craved pillow talks, massages, the smell of a woman’s perfume. So many things. Erik was right, he needed to decompress. John drank the entire contents of the glass, realizing it to be whiskey.

“Fuck it. You’re right. What’s the move?”

Erik rubbed his hands together like the mastermind he is.

“Aight, figured we could get some food, meet up with some ladies, and hit the town. I know some good spots here in Lagos. Tomorrow we can take a yacht out and smoke some cigars. Just live it up, you know?”

John smirked, “Sounds all good to me. What ladies? Hopefully nobody you touched. We all know what happened back in college. Sydney…”

“Ahhhh…Sydney. She was…” Erik kissed his fingers, “Scrumptious. You ain’t have no problems with me hittin’ that!”

They walked out towards the back of the home and took a seat near the inground pool. Erik took a small sip from his glass before sitting it on the ground beside him to remove his boots. John lounged back and placed his shades over his eyes.

“So, now you’re silent?” Erik teased.

“I’m silent because you love to leave out certain details. I was falling DEEP for that girl. Her excuse was she couldn’t tell us apart.”

“Both of us had the same cut, J! Like I told you before, I didn’t know. Anyway, she’s married with a son or some shit… good for her.”

John chuckled, “It’s been too long for me. So long that I’ve become picky. I don’t want just any woman.”

Nigga,” Erik scuffs, “You serious? It’s been three months for me. I miss the sex. I miss giving and receiving. Shit…I got a job in a week and this job gotta be one of the worst and I mean my whole fuckin’ chest will be covered in scars by the time I come back home to the Bay—you think I’m fuckin’ lying? I need this. I wanna be pissy drunk in a bed full of women before I touch down in Vietnam.”

John took his shades off to look at Erik.

“You scarring again? Thought you said that shit was over?”

“I guess old habits don’t die hard,” Erik shrugged, “I enjoy it.

John squinted, “You enjoy having that reminder on your body? You’re fucking crazy…”

“Says the nigga that ain’t never giving this life up. You live for this shit too, J. Don’t act like me and you are any different. Just because I do shit dirty doesn't mean you ain’t getting a thrill out of it. See, ever since you became best buddies with Sam Wilson you've been acting brand new.”

“Your thrill and my thrill are not the same, E. And what’s wrong with Sam? He’s cool peoples. Don’t get me wrong. I love what I do. But…it’s a job for me. For you, it’s a game. You have this killer instinct. Example,” John sat up, “You remember what happened in Iraq? What you did to that family? Torturing? That shit was…that was brutal.”

“Yeah…I remember. I also remember very clearly that they were the enemy. I also remember losing friends to those enemies. When I get behind that heat,” Erik made a gesture with his fingers to mimic a gun, “I don’t care who I’m aiming at. If it’s meant for you, it’s meant for you.”

“…Wild,” John stood up and stretched, “I’m getting some more to drink…”

“Fill me up!” Erik held his glass out, “And bring the whole bottle. We gotta get ready in another hour to head out.”

“Damn, I just got here,” John shakes his head.

“The pussy don’t wait for no one!” Erik shouted after his brother.

_____________

“This is…?”

“I’m Malaika.”

“Oh yeah! Malaika. Good to see you again, sweetheart.”

Erik nudged John while they were seated in Silverfox; a luxury strip club on Victoria Island in Lagos. John perked up and gave his twin brother a sideways glance before reaching out his hand to greet Malaika. Her soft, graceful hand within his calloused one felt warm and friendly. John took the time to admire Malaika. She has some outstanding characteristics that make her irresistible. Among them all, her rich, dark skin with big, dark brown eyes stood out to him the most. Skin so lovely and smooth. She had a curvy figure with a tall stature that made him wonder if she were a model. She wore her hair in straight-back stitch braids that hung down to her butt and a form-fitting, cyan-blue dress with silver stiletto sandals.

“How you doin’ I’m John.”

“Hi, John,” Malaika’s eyes scanned his body, “First time in Lagos?”

“It is, yeah.” John responded.

Malaika took a seat next to John with her drink in hand trying to spark conversation. Her best friend, Zola, sat with Erik on the opposite end of the sofa on his lap. Malaika was used to seeing her best friend being all over Erik. She was his ‘girl’ whenever he touched down in Lagos. Zola’s coarse, voluminous Afro shielded Erik’s face while she leaned in to give him a kiss on his plump lips. Erik had a handful of her bubble booty that stood out in her denim shorts. When she faced forward again, she caught eyes with John and waved. Zola was just as gorgeous with her toasty-brown skin and mahogany eyes. Her sheer-black halter top gave a brazen view of her pierced nipples.

“How do you like it so far?” Malaika asked.

“It’s a vibe. Definitely into it.”

John reached for his drink and Malaika’s eyes tracked it.

“What’s in your cup?”

“STARR Rum. I’m a rum kind of guy. You?”

Malaika twirled the last remnants of her drink around, “It’s some Patron mix the bartender did for me. I don’t really like it.”

She pouted her lip before sitting her cup down on the low table in front of them.

“We still got rum left in the bottle. I can pour you some…”

John uncapped the bottle and proceeded to fill Malaika’s cup. Meanwhile, Zola and Erik are watching the various women twirl and do tricks on the pole. They had already thrown cash and some of it littered the floor of their section.

“What do you do if you don’t mind me asking?”

John angled his body to face Malaika while relaxing back against the lounge sofa.

“I’m a Navy SEAL.”

“Hmm,” Malaika roamed John’s body with her sultry eyes, “Is it dangerous?”

John chuckles. In his mind, he was saying what he really thought but he’d just met Malaika so he didn’t want to give off bad vibes. Of course being a SEAL is dangerous.

“It’s considered one of the most dangerous military occupations. Combat operations…hazardous training…specialized missions…it’s risky. You gotta be prepared for that.”

“Wow. I bet you’ve seen a lot.”

John nodded his head, “I have. More than I’d like to discuss,” John cleared his throat, “Tell me a little bit about Malaika.”

Malaika tucked her chin bashfully, “I’m in medical school currently. Not much of a social life at the moment but it’s worth it.”

John’s unruly brows shot up with interest, “that’s dope. Educated and gorgeous…I like that.”

Zola sipped her drink while watching John and Malaika get to know each other. She held a tiny smirk on her face. Erik was too busy making his dick jump against her ass. Zola looked down at him over her shoulder as best as she could with all the hair she had.

“You need to cut it out, Killmonger. Calm that big dick down…”

“I’ll calm it down when you get that phat ass up off my lap, girl.” Erik retorted.

“So it’s my fault? Teh,” Zola rolled her eyes, “Not my fault you can’t control yourself.”

“Here we go,” Erik threw his head back and laughed, “Zola…stop acting tough. Because we both know that I’ll put your ass through the mattress and have you screaming big daddy at the top of your lungs. Stop it.”

“Who did you fuck in Cuba?”

Erik’s eyes went round at her outlandish question.

“Zo, are you serious?”

“Yes, I am. I want to know.”

“I thought you ain’t care who I fuck when I’m away?”

“I haven’t seen you in months and you’ve been giving this big dick to some other bitch and I wanna know…”

A chuckle could be heard from across the table and Erik peeked over to see John and Malaika tittering into their cups.

“Help me out, bro,” Erik gave John a pleading look.

“I wish I could, E. I haven’t seen you in months either.” John bantered.

Erik put his middle finger up at his twin. John simply laughed. He knew his brother all too well. He was definitely fucking some women in Cuba. He’d caught his brother in many nefarious situations with women. Some of which almost got them killed. Erik’s sex drive had to be sated even through war. John had control for some time because he’d been in a long-term relationship with a high school sweetheart at one point before dating Karen on and off for three years.

“Forget all that. I’m here right now with you. Let’s make the most of this shit before I’m gone again.” Erik said with finality.

Zola simply rolled her eyes in response. Erik’s hands caressing her frame as he stared her down with an unwavering gaze while whispering to her seemed to melt her jealous core. She couldn’t fight the urge to blush when Erik’s hand palmed her ass and gripped it tight and possessively.

“You two are so different,” Malaika whispered to John, “you’re very laid back and he’s very outspoken.”

“Believe it or not, we play off of each other well,” John replied, “My silence is just me being observant for the most part.”

“You seem shy.”

John licked his lips and cracked a dimpled smile, “I’m not. I promise you.”

Malaika giggles.

“You definitely are though,” John elevated a single brow and squinted at her, “You’ve been avoiding eye contact with me.”

Malaika opened her mouth to speak but she quickly realized he was correct.

“It’s not that I’m shy…you’re just fine as hell.”

She turned and crossed one leg over the other, causing her hip to poke out. John fixated his lustful gaze on her generous curves. The colorful luminance bouncing around the club against her dark skin had him salivating for a taste. It’s been too long since he’d had some good pussy. And Malaika could be just the girl to soak his dick.

“Thank you, gorgeous,” John scooted closer to her, “But don’t let that intimidate you. I love eye contact. And the way you walked in here tonight showed me you have a lot of confidence,” John took a chance and placed his hand over her knee and started stroking it with his thumb, “That’s a huge turn on for me.”

“Mm, oh yeah? What else turns you on?”

Malaika traced John’s thin, gold chain with her gemstone-covered acrylic nail.

“A woman that knows what she wants…isn’t afraid to express it and show it…release her inhibitions.”

“Mmm…”

John’s words had Malaika yoked up by the pussy. Her breathing changed, her eyes went low, her nipples hardened, and she couldn’t keep her hands off of John. She ran her hand down his chest and down his thigh. John’s dick bricked-up so fast he didn’t see it coming. She was stroking his thigh while his dick expanded in his pants.

“Ayo, J!”

John looked up to see a woman so fine he almost groaned. A pole dancer with fat titties, thunder thighs, and a top-shelf ass started showing out in the section. The red-hot one-piece with a large keyhole cutout that left little to the imagination and a pair of stunning stockings attached to the bodice barely covered her body. John had never seen so much ass in his life.

“Throw that shit, baby!” Zola shouted while throwing hundreds.

Erik stood up and started making it rain over her. John grabbed a stack and flicked it towards her direction. She kept popping that ass like she didn’t own a vertebrae. Malaika clapped her hands in time to the bounce of the dancer’s cheeks.

“Damn, ma! Show out!” Erik yelled. L

“Aye!” Malaika said loudly.

“That ass is crazy,” John shook his head.

When she finished dancing, she collected her money and walked off as if she didn’t just render everyone speechless.

______________________

They were lucky to make it back safely to the mansion in one piece with the way Erik was driving his yellow Lotus Emira V6. The ladies took off their five-inch heels at the door and John had to bend down and help Malaika because she couldn’t keep her balance from all the rum she drank. Erik took off his embroidered crochet shirt that matched his shorts and threw it over the banister. His locs fell into his eyes at that point from the wind when he was driving.

“Are we still getting in the jacuzzi?” Zola asked.

“Hell yeah. You got an extra bikini for Malaika?”

“I do. Let me go get it,” Zola climbed the stairs while gripping the banister.

Erik followed her and he caught up with her to slap her on the ass.

“You okay?” John had a tight hold on Malaika’s waist so she wouldn’t fall.

Malaika drunkenly giggled, “I’m good. Let's change.”

John grasped Malaika’s hand and they climbed one side of the staircase. When they got to the second landing, John led Malaika down the hall to the room he’s in during his stay. John pushed open the double doors to a large room with a balcony that oversees the yard and beyond. John grabbed his bag to find his swim shorts while Malaika started taking off her dress. John paused to watch her. She was standing before him in a strapless, nude bra and matching thong. Malaika caught him staring and gave him a seductive smirk.

“This will be all yours tonight,” She crawled over to him on the bed like a feline, “All yours…”

John’s eyes followed her movements until she reached her destination and pressed her sweet lips against his. The kiss felt damn good. John could kiss for long periods. He looked from her lips to her eyes and then he closed the space between them and his lips were on hers again. Malaika sat up on her knees and started unbuttoning John’s boxy-fit, black top. She smoothed the fabric from his shoulders and broke the kiss to see his body.

“Fuck, you’re body is…mmm…Abeg, come fuck my pussy…”

Malaika’s hand found its way between John’s legs and she squeezed his stiff dick. John grunted against her lips.

“You’re so sexy, John…”

She was hungry for attention. Malaika started fumbling with his black pants to free his third leg. John paused her horny pursuit with a gentle grasp of her wrist.

“Protection.”

Malaika gave John a slight pout. John slipped away to his bag and opened a small pocket to grab a SKYN elite large condom. He made his way back over to her and Malaika proceeded to take off her bra. John stopped her again and then he tilted her chin up to make her stare directly in his eyes.

“Let me,” John reached around her and unhooked her bra.

His eyes admired the slope of her well-endowed breasts with large, brown areolas and small nipples. John didn’t waste time crouching down to suck on each erect nipple just so he could taste her luscious, dark skin. Malaika thrust her chest out and tried her best to watch John but the way he looked her in the eyes was too much for her to handle.

“Fuck, John…just like that…” Malaika moaned.

She tasted just as good as she looked. John was drooling. The door to the room opened and in walked Zola wearing a sage green bikini with her hair styled in a bun to avoid getting wet. John popped Malaika’s left titty out his mouth and sat up quickly. Zola and her bouncy, glistening cleavage crawled onto the bed and she held out a royal blue bikini for Malaika to wear.

“Here, bitch! Hurry up!”

Malaika sat up and Zola took it upon herself to remove Malaika’s thong. John’s eyes stared between Malaika’s thighs at her semi-hairy pussy. Erik approached the door with a bottle of amber liquor in his hand, drinking straight from the rim. He had on a pair of black and white striped swim shorts. Malaika slipped on her bikini bottoms while Zola helped with her bikini top. John’s dick wouldn’t go soft and he really wanted to continue where they left off but Zola was dragging Malaika out of the room.

“You still ain’t ready, nigga?! Did we fuck up a moment?”

“Whatchu think?” John replied sarcastically.

He snatched up his red swim shorts.

“Can I get some privacy?”

Erik walked away and took his laughter with him.

After John got dressed, he made his way out to the jacuzzi. When he got there, Erik was seated on the edge of the jacuzzi with his feet in the water that bubbled up like a witches brew. Zola and Malaika were splashing each other and shrieking. John lowered himself into the jacuzzi and wrapped his arms around Malaika’s waist, pulling her towards him. He started peppering kisses down her slender neck. Zola placed herself between Erik’s legs and he fed her some liquor straight from the bottle. Some of it dribbled down her chin. Erik sank into the water and wrapped his hand around her bun, extending her neck so he could like and suck on her neck.

Malaika’s eyes couldn’t stray away from Erik’s broad, muscular back littered with tiny, raised scars. John noticed that she was staring and Malaika tried to play it off by kissing his cheek. John wasn’t surprised, Erik’s scars drew a lot of attention. And it made you question what type of person would do something like that over and over.

“I noticed you don’t have any scars…”

“…I have a few. We started them together. I just didn’t have the desire to continue…”

Malaika turned to face him, “Can I see them?”

John took Malaika’s right hand and brought it to his right side. Her fingertips grazed three small raised bumps.

“What made you stop?” Malaika stared up at John with curiosity.

John removed her hand and leaned in to give her tongue. That seemed to distract her. John wanted to focus on the sex and the good times. As beautiful as Malaika is, he knew what it would be between them. She didn’t need to know about that.

“You kiss like…I no get! I no get…”

Zola had her legs wrapped around Erik’s waist as she watched John and Malaika kiss over his shoulder.

“How come you never brought John around before?”

Erik pulled back to look at her. He scrunched his face at her question.

“Wetin? I mean…you’re identical twins. I’ve never seen twins so separated…”

Erik cocked his head to the side, “John has his own thing and so do I. That doesn’t mean we’re not close.”

“But—”

“Zo, you know you’re ruining the mood right? Look,” Erik points to John and Malaika, “Instead of you worrying about me and my brother's bond, you could be worrying about this big dick you missed so much.”

Erik lets Zola down and he climbs out of the Jacuzzi. He motions for her to come to him and he lifts her out of the water. Erik picks her up bridal style and Zola squeals. Malaika and John were too busy swapping spit to care.

____________________________

Zola missed his big dick alright.

That slight curvature to the left with the perfect amount of width-to-length ratio that would have you in the falsetto was back in Lagos after five long months. Despite Zola wanting to keep Erik all for herself, he’s a side dude. Zola is married and from what Erik knows, unhappy. They don’t talk about her marriage whenever they link. That’s Zola’s rule.

Her husband couldn’t fuck like Erik could. Despite her famine, Zola enjoyed the feeling of his fat dick sinking into her creamy center like it was the first time. Zola arched her back and took that long dick like a champ on the edge of the bed. Her wild, kinky fro shielded her face and she gripped on the bed as best as she could.

“I thought you said you liked big toys, Zo?!”

He pounded her pussy at different angles and different strokes to make her feel it. Zola had chills all over her body. His 6’4, 225 lb frame towering over her from behind could be seen in the reflection on the ceiling mirror. She looked back at him with tears in her eyes and nothing but cries escaping her mouth.

“Comot from dia…oooh…I can’t take it…Abeg, big daddy!”

Erik’s response to that was more strokes. His balls slapped her clit and her body convulsed. He popped her on the ass and that triggered her to cum hard on his condom-covered dick.

“Come up off this pussy, bitch? Huh? I thought I told you to take this fuckin’ dick? Huh?”

“Na so,” Zola replied weakly.

“Don’t play with me, Zo. I know how to get you…”

Erik slipped out and Zola released a heavy squirt. His dick and that curve was pressed against her spot on purpose to make her do that. Erik used his thumb to rub on her clit from the back causing more to release. She was a quivering mess in a puddle of her own release. Erik positioned Zola on her back and locked her legs with her knees pinned by her ears. Erik’s dick sank back inside of her and she almost lost it again.

“Fuck! Oh fuck…”

Zola gasped. Erik fucked her with a roll of his hips. He watched her face contorted in many different ways while grunting and biting his lip.

“Pussy creamy, you hear all that? Damn, girl…”

“Oh!”

“You lookin’ at this? Hm?”

Zola’s eyes looked down and all she could see was his big dick going in and out of her. He hit her spot so good she couldn’t keep still.

“Zola, how deep this pussy go? Deep enough for daddy?”

She could only nod and tremble. That bottom lip would not stop quivering. Staring up into his onyx eyes that were shielded by his locs, Zola watched as he cracked a smile.

“Right there…oh my god I’m cumming—”

Erik slowly pulled out and his dick sat on top of her waxed pussy lips as he released into the condom.

“Fuuuck. That pussy good, Zo. So good, baby…”

Erik coaxed Zola into a tongue kiss. She gripped his chin and he rubbed her pussy.

“You wish you could have me every night?”

Zola’s eyes welled up with tears. They weren’t sad tears. The definition of dickmatized was Zola. She knew that as soon as Erik left, it would be a long while before he returned.

“I’m on top now,” Zola sat up, “I want to feel that dick from another angle, daddy…”

Erik removed the old condom and grabbed a new one.

“You can ride it all you want, girl.”

Erik could recall sleepless nights filled with multiple sessions with Zola. Erik had hoes in different area codes but one thing about Zola, she could take dick well. And she was his best eater thus far. Zola climbed on top of Erik and got up on her feet to bounce. She lined his dick up with her opening and lowered herself. Zola gripped Erik’s shoulders and started bouncing.

“Unh! I love the way it feels going up inside of me!”

“I know, you got my nuts hurting, fuck!”

That ass collided with his balls each time she came down.

“DAT’S IT…fuck this dick…ride this shit so good…just like that…Suck the nut out this dick with them pussy lips…pussy hella tight…take this nut like you tryna get a baby…”

Zola moaned loudly and she fell to her knees on top of Erik. Her walls gripped his dick with tight pulses. Erik’s hips jerked and he groaned while painting the inside of the condom milky-white.

_____________________

While Zola and Erik were busy, John and Malaika made their way back to the room. Their wet swimwear resided on the bathroom floor and Malaika was on her back in a flash. John was leaning over her body, kissing down her neck. His dick throbbed against her inner thigh the more his lips moved closer to her breasts. Malaika was trying to steal peeks at his dick. It felt heavy against her thigh, but did it match the sensation? She could only hope so.

Malaika and her hairy pussy were begging for attention. She cradled the back of his head while his lips went from nipple-to-nipple. John’s lips tugging on her nipples made her clit pulsate. This man was teasing her and she couldn’t take it. Malaika pushed him so that he would sit up. John lifted to his knees and Malaika anxiously lifted to admire his dick.

She blinked slowly at what would be the prettiest dick she’d ever seen. It had a slight curve to it, which was new for her because she’d never taken dick like that. From first glance, she flinched because of how intimidating his dick looked. Prominent veins, wide tip, girthy, and at least 8 ½ inches. John startled her by caressing her bottom lip with his thumb. Malaika’s eyes met his. He had this hungry look in his eyes. She liked that a lot. Very primal.

“You want it? Come get it…”

Malaika found herself on her knees. John stood up and Malaika wrapped a hand around his shaft. She bounced it in her palm and realized how heavy it was. Her stomach clenched. She was going to fuck all this dick?

“Malaika.”

She opened up and wrapped her lips around him and started sucking. A longing sigh escaped his mouth. It was as if he’d forgotten how good it felt to have his dick sucked.

“Mhm…mhm…good girl…”

He gently strokes her chin with his thumb. Malaika sucked as much as she could.

“Damn…I needed this…”

John shut his eyes and drew his bottom lip into his mouth. Malaika’s loud slurping filled the expansive room.

“You like that shit?”

Malaika bobbed her head. He even tasted good. She slurped and John had a tight grip on her shoulders and he started bucking his hips. Malaika did her best to relax her throat. Spit trickled down the sides of her mouth continuously. John’s tongue swiped his bottom lip and his eyebrows knitted together. He was close. Malaika could tell because he was swelling in her mouth to the point that her jaws were sore.

“I’m finna nut…ughhhhh—”

Malaika’s pussy ached to be fucked when the first taste of cum from his beautiful balls hit her tongue. She had to moan herself. The more she jerked, cum painted her tongue. John watched with low eyes and parted lips. When she finished, John lifted her to her feet and instructed her to get on her back and spread her thighs. She grabbed him by the dick impatiently and John had to grab the condom to roll it on.

“Slow down, mamas…”

Malaika spread her pussy lips, “I should have shaved—”

She wasn’t prepared for that intrusion. Malaika cried out so loud her voice bounced off the walls. John didn’t care about some hair. He had some himself. He wanted—NEEDED to be inside of her. He had his hands on her hips while his big dick pumped her. With each thrust, Malaika would whimper. Silent but deadly. He could fuck some pussy up.

“John! Oh my god…”

He was swimming in her pussy. The wetness seemed to overflow the more he fucked her.

“Mhm…”

His chain in her face and the scent of sandalwood on his skin stimulated her senses. Malaika was going to cum hard. Whenever she looked up into his eyes, stroked the back of his head, and said his name, he would just stare back with this neutral expression. That was dangerous. It meant he KNEW his dick was lethal.

“Oooh, here it comes, YES—”

“Good girl…cum for me…”

Malaika spasmed beneath John. He kissed her temple and then he picked her up, walking Malaika over to the dresser. He sat her down on the dresser and without a word he hooked her left knee over his arm while using his right hand to line his dick up again and before she knew it he was back inside. Both of her knees over his arms, John thrust in and out of her. Malaika locked eyes with him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

“I gotchu baby…”

“Yeah?”

He was fucking her so good Malaika couldn’t believe it. Her rich, dark skin glistened with sweat and so did his russet skin. John watched as his dick went in and out with a bite of his lip. He lifted Malaika completely off of the dresser and bounced her on his dick.

“John! John! John!”

Her cries were beautiful. John felt that sensation.

“Shit, I’m cumin’—”

John gave Malaika two more thrusts before he erupted into the condom.

_____________________

Time was lost to them as they slept in a pool of their own secretions. The silence that surrounded them in the darkness of that room alerted John to a ruckus. His ears could pick up the faintest of noises. John slowly sat up in bed, rubbing his left eye with the back of his hand. He was still naked with no desire to get dressed in case Malaika wanted to go another round.

John glanced down at the sleeping beauty before looking towards the door. He gently pulled the sheets back and climbed out of bed to grab a pair of shorts and a white beater. When he finished getting dressed, out of habit John grabbed a black pistol with a long barrel and a slightly lighter trigger pull for ultimate precision. He approached the door and carefully twisted one of the handles to open it.

The hallway was pitch black. John entered the hall, eyes moving from left to right, making his way towards his brother's room. When he approached Erik’s door, John tried to push it open but he was met with the muzzle of a silver, chrome plated Glock. Erik was on the other end. His hard, menacing expression relaxed when he realized it was John.

“You heard something too.” Erik whispered.

“Yeah,” John motioned for Erik to follow him, “it came from this way…”

The twin brothers stealthily moved towards the top of the stairs. When they got there, John spotted what looked like a militant. He didn’t think twice before pulling the trigger. They fell to their knees and as soon as they did, more shots rang out causing John and Erik to take cover.

“What the fuck?!” Erik pressed his back against a wall.

He could hear footsteps drawing closer so Erik jumped out and fired his pistol, the bullets connecting with the intruders head. John covered his brother by aiming his shots over the banister. He hit one in the chest and the other in the leg. They rushed down the stairs two at a time and broke out into combat, disarming whoever came at them.

“Argh!”

John dragged one of them away while Erik had his knee in the back of the other's head with his gun pressed against their cheek.

“Who sent you?! SPEAK!” John barked out.

“Erik!”

Erik looked towards the top of the stairs to find Zola and Malaika captured by more militant men. They were both barely covered with a sheet to conceal their nudity.

“If you shoot, we will kill them…”

Erik scowled furiously at whoever it was making threats.

“You’ve been on our radar for a while, Killmonger…”

John looked from his brother to the men holding the women hostage.

“Bandits?” John questioned.

Erik clenched his jaw. He kept a low profile in Lagos. No one knew about his whereabouts except Adewele, who he did business with. Did he betray him?

“How did you find me?”

The bandit wearing Nigerian militia and a red scarf shielding half of his face pointed his gun at Zola. John closed his eyes for a second. Erik looked at Zola with venomous suspicion.

“She’s our eyes and ears, isn’t that right? My wife?”

“What?” John couldn’t believe it, “You’ve been fucking the wife of your enemy?!”

Erik lost it.

“Erik, please–I–I–”

John watched as Zola’s brains were blown. The apparent leader of the bandits didn’t expect that turn of events. Malaika wailed, trying to escape. John watched her struggle, his mind racing. He didn’t know whether to trust Malaika. Erik didn’t hesitate to kill Zola. Malaika was tossed ferociously to the side while guns blazed. Erik raced up the stairs to handle the leader himself while John fought his way up towards Malaika. He got to her in time and fought off a militant before tossing his lifeless body down the stairs.

“John,” Malaika stared at him with tear-stricken eyes, “I didn’t know…I swear.”

“Here,” He helped Malaika to her feet, “I want you to hide until we make sure it’s safe, okay? Go.”

John watched Malaika run into a nearby room and close the door behind her. John ran off in search of Erik. He could hear commotion and found Erik fighting the leader of the bandits. A knife fight. John barged over and was nearly knocked over when a militant tried to subdue him. Erik swung his blade expertly while covered in blood.

“When I get you, I’m cutting your fucking head off!!!!” The leader shouted.

John brought the militant to the floor and wrapped his hands around his neck. He watched the life leave his body. Erik took a slash to his chest before throwing his blade, precisely hitting the leader in the eye. He dropped like a sack of potatoes to his death. Erik rocked back on his heels and dropped the blade in his hand. John approached his brother to check on him. Erik looked up at John with a smirk before laughing. John wasn’t in the mood for laughter.

“…I’m gonna go check on Malaika—”

“Nah, she’s probably in on this shit just like Zola. I can’t believe that bitch betrayed me.”

“You can’t believe it? Are you fucking serious? You ain’t learned from last time?”

“Whatever,” Erik picked himself up and stormed over to the door, “I gotta make a call. We need to be outta here before they come knocking.”

John clenched his fists and instead of going after Erik he went in search of Malaika. John made his way to the room she hid herself in and when he got closer he realized the door had been opened. John kicked the door open and flicked on the light. It was empty. He made his way back to the room he was in and noticed it was empty too.

Malaika had fled. He didn’t have time to process his emotions in regards to Malaika’s true intentions. All he hoped was that the girl was safe.

“How soon can they get here to clean up? I gotta disappear before shit gets hot…I’m gon’ keep it real with you, Adewele, I don’t trust anybody right now. Not even you. I appreciate how you came through, but I’m cutting ties…just wire me my last payment and we’re good…”

John listened in on his brother’s phone call before revealing himself. Erik paused to look John square in the eyes.

“I called a friend, they’ll meet us outside of the city to fly out. I’m gonna be off the radar for a bit to clean up this mess…”

John shook his head, “Do what you gotta do, bro. Just keep me the fuck out of it. I don’t wanna know what you did to have these people on your back. I got my own shit.”

Erik chuckled dryly, “Yeah, I know. Fuck me and my shit. I get it…”

Erik started packing his things. John had another mission when he got back.

“Listen, E. You should cool off for a while. Lay low someplace safe and leave this shit alone—”

“Can’t. I got a big job in Vietnam. I’m looking at a million dollar paycheck, bruh. I’m not laying low and missing that opportunity. You wouldn’t know anything about that…”

He didn’t have the energy to argue with Erik. And arguing wouldn’t change his mind. John walked away to get his things together. While he cleaned up and got dressed to leave, whoever Erik’s business partner called showed up to clean up the house. John watched the large men toss the dead bodies onto a five ton M939. John followed Erik out of the mansion and towards an armored, all black, Military hummer. They tossed their bags onto the back and climbed into the front.

Erik and John drove for five hours until they arrived at a dirt strip in the middle of nowhere in rural Benin. It took a lot of effort to get there without running into trouble. There was a helicopter waiting to transport them to their jet. John hopped out of the vehicle and gathered their bags while Erik spoke with his friend.

“This is my twin brother, John. John, this is Turk. We used to work closely together doing odd jobs…”

He appeared to be an Ethiopian man wearing a turban head wrap and dingy clothes covered in ultisol.

“Nice to meet you, John. Are you two ready to fly out?”

John shook Turk’s hand, “Yeah, let’s bounce.”

Once their bags were secure on the helicopter, they strapped themselves in and Turk took off.

John took a sip of water out of a canister while Erik focused below to make sure they weren’t being followed.

“E…”

Erik cut his eyes at John.

“I think it’s time to be abstinent.”

Erik snorted, “I see you got jokes…”

“You didn’t know who Zola’s husband was?”

“…She told me her husband was a limp-dick Doctor. There were no signs pointing at the shit being suspicious.”

“Malaika left.” John said.

“Who gives a fuck? You should have killed her ass. What happened to all that without remorse type shit?”

John shrugged, “It doesn’t matter now. Let’s get out of here now before shit blows up. You're still coming home after your next job, right?”

“I ain’t got a choice. I don’t want G-ma lighting a fire under my ass about it.”

John chuckled tiredly, “You know she don’t play.”

“Oh, I know.”

“Aye,” John leaned forward on his knees and reached out his hand, “Make it home in one piece.”

Erik clasped his brother's hand and gave him a pointed look, “Always. They don’t call me Killmonger for nothing. We touchin’ down in The Bay the same day and gettin’ hyphy.”

___________________

Promises couldn’t be kept. John was back in California within two weeks, but Erik hadn’t shown up. He had another top secret job awaiting him and he communicated to John via email that he’d be home in a few days. John drove to his new apartment in his all-black, BMW M340 with the windows rolled down, his favorite shades on, and a smirk on his face. The first stop he wanted to make was to his favorite barber in Oakland. He needed a good fade with a crisp line-up.

After his appointment, John headed to his new apartment and walked into a halfway furnished living space. He sat down on his black leather home theater sectional and released a sigh of contempt. It felt good to be home. No more sleepless nights, death knocking at his door, and covert missions. He could shower, eat, sleep, beat his dick, and watch crap TV. He could play COD and do normal things like grocery shop and spend time with his family.

After a long shower, John moisturized and threw on a pair of shorts with a white tee. He slipped on a durag and decided to order in. He had a long talk on the phone with his grandmother and promised that he would be over on Sunday for dinner. John ordered himself a meat lover's pizza and some hot wings. He sat at his high top on a stool with his laptop opened to a dating site. After Malaika, John was fiendish for another woman to spend some time with.

He settled on Hinge. He wasn’t really feeling Bumble at the moment. He was looking for someone to hook up with to scratch that itch for pussy. Bumble had too many women looking for commitment and John wasn’t ready to be locked down quite yet. He hadn’t checked his profile in a while so he was curious to see how many matches he has.

“Dana…26…art major…”

John read her profile and he instantly lost interest. He continued.

“Kayla. You’re too young…”

He washed his food down with some wine.

Hi, handsome

You have a nice smile

Are you interested in hooking up?

He started to wonder if this was a good idea. He’d gone through thirty profiles and not one was enough to make him pursue. That was, until he came across a woman he’d matched with a few days ago. He had to get through almost fifty matches to find her.

Her name was Gia; a thirty-one-year old woman with undeniable beauty. She’s a Spelman graduate with a degree in Biology and Anthropology. John read her dating profile and found Gia to be captivating and he hadn’t even spoken to her.

She’s looking for a low commitment relationship with good vibes, food, and conversation. She makes it known that she’s career-driven and is looking for a man in uniform, specifically a soldier. That narrows down the dating pool. There are other traits about her that John loved and he didn’t waste time sending her a message.

@hearteyes-for-killmonger @imagining-greatness @chaneajoyyy @uzumaki-rebellion @lisayourworries @ratedbadgal @bombshellbre95 @cancerianprincess @dameshaemonique @6lack-1otus @thickemadame @thickeeparker @stinkalinkkkk @ehniki @electrixt @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @bxolux @sweet2krazee @seyven89 @ispywithmylileye @geemamii @unbotheredblackchild @nubianbabee @adoreesun @blackpinup22 @nayaxwrites @cocoa-puffs @dersha89 @honeytoffee @thickianaaaa @modelmemoirs @queenfaithmarie @angelicniah @soulfulbeauty19 @aijha @novaniskye @callmemckenzieee @blowmymbackout @lahuttor @momobaby227 @blackerthings @kenbieee @princessxotwod @palmstreesallday @kokokonako @coolfancyone @soulsparker @richgirlaesthetics

[whatifitookalilnap]

Amon: and after we kill the Avatar-

Equalist Asmai: after we do what now??????

Amon: kill the Avatar is what I said

Asami: Pause. I thought you were just gonna take her bending away, where did this whole killing idea come from?

Amon: I’m not going to make the mistake of underestimating the Avatar. As long as she’s alive, she’s a threat to our cause

Asami: I see.

*one hour later*

Korra: *chatting with Bolin and Mako in the police station*

Asami, kicking the door down with a stack of papers in her hands: hey gang, I’m about to ruin Amon’s whole career so you better start taking notes

Mako: I-what?

Asami, pulling out a map: first things first, his real name is Noatok. Anyways, our main Equalist bases are here, here and here-

Bolin: kindly slow down for a moment. I’m loving this whole betrayal energy you got going on here, but why are you suddenly giving up this important intel?

Asami: I just found out Amon wants to kill Korra so I had to jump ship

Korra: wait you just found out Amon wants to kill me? To be honest I kinda always assumed that was the goal

Asami: I always thought he was just going to take you bending away. We don’t need your bending to make out, but we definitely need you to have a pulse

Korra: so you’re betraying the Equalists, including your father, to save me?

Asami: that is correct, yes

Korra: *immediately kisses Asami*

Asami, internally: *yeah this was the right choice*

Bolin, in tears: love is so beautiful

Mako, sighing: damn it, Korra kissed Asmai first! Now I owe Chief Beifong money

[theaverageptncasualenjoyer]

"We're not even dating." "But you belong to me." Shalom (Fem MBCC intel officer)

An: I'm back 🥳 But, only for a quick while before I have think about the romance department more... 🤢🤮 This'll be angst, jealousy, misunderstandings, lowkey toxic shalom, and suggestive themes, mentions of sex...

It started out as a one night stand, then turned into something more... Honestly, I don't know what came over me, thinking this was a good idea... But, there was no turning back once I caved, and asked for more... I'll always end up waking to no one by my side. Perhaps I enjoy the pain that comes after pleasure, which I shouldn't be. I felt sick, though I never tire of seeking her warmth. She is no saint although I'll gladly become a sinner just for her to look my way. But of course, she'll always look at her damn bodyguard's way... What does she have that I don't? I may be powerless, but I'm the one who's with her at nights like these... For her desire of flesh, I am the one who satiate her needs... Still, I end up losing to a woman who does not engage in such affairs. Shalom had told me once, while I lay underneath her, that her bodyguard has no interest in regards to mindless sex. She once attempted to seduce her, but to no avail, her bodyguard does not indulge. We're not lovers, so why must I feel this way...? It feels so wrong, but at the same time right to possess such feelings... I am fully aware about having no right to behave in a manner. But I can't help it. She disappears in my life, only to come back after weeks or even months without contact. My body has been drained, and my love had diminished. Like a candle lit flame that had been burning for too long, it's flames have extinguished after it's overuse. Perhaps it is time for me to move on. A week after her disappearance, I started working as an intelligence officer at the MBCC. Little did I know that she would soon enter my life again after 4 months of working as an intelligence officer. I moved places, to a new apartment near my workplace. I managed to fix myself, slowly. I don't think about her too much. After all, I ended up having a small crush on Matilda. There was just something about her that had me catching feelings for the sinner, maybe it was that side of hers that only a few had known, her caring nature, her ability to observe others in a way that she is able to tell when a person is troubled, and how she ensures that I am safe and protected. She and I grew closer over the past few months. I saw Shalom and the bodyguard that she would mention during our intimacy... This time, I didn't feel some sort of envy towards her bodyguard. Only contentment as I met eyes with Matilda next to Shalom, walking towards me as I greet her warmly. Shalom didn't like the interaction. My eyes softened, as I went somewhere with Matilda. Shalom couldn't resist asking the chief as to what was my relationship with Matilda, to which the chief responds, "The two of them are close friends. Though, it could be something more." The chief paused, and then continued, "I wouldn't be surprised if they ended up together." The chief concludes with an amused chuckle. Shalom did not appreciate that. I was now currently on break, lounging around in the breakroom. Waiting for coffee to brew. I didn't notice Shalom entering the room, eyes immediately locked onto my figure, as I unknowingly hum and waited for my coffee. She then spoke up, causing me to freeze up, unable to turn around and face her. "So, you and the councilor's niece, huh..." I grimace, not wanting to have this conversation. "...What do you want now, Shalom?" Her eyes narrowed, not liking the way I wasn't interested in a conversation with her at all. "I left for months, and you suddenly have some other woman to play around with?" I didn't like the way she was talking to Matilda like that, so I responded, "Play around? Is that all you think about?" my voiced laced with venom. "Oh, how sweet. Her knight and shining armor had come to defend her. Do you want a reward?" Her tone was sarcastic. I ignored her reply, choosing to focus on getting my coffee instead of entertaining her. That was all I was to her, anyways. A joke. To be played around with. I'm not even surprised at all.

"Don't ignore me, dear." She hissed, approaching me. I quickly grabbed my cup, and side stepped. "..." I walked past her, shocking her as I went outside. Without a word. She quickly catch up to me, grabbing my wrist. "I am not done talking to you." "But I am. Matilda's waiting for me." Her eyes darkened. "Matilda this, Matilda that. When will you quit the charades? You're doing this to make me jealous." I can feel the jealousy on her words, causing me to blink slowly. "...Excuse me? Do you really think I hang out with Matilda just because I want to waste time making you feel that way? Gross." I say, disgusted before pulling my hand away from her grasp. I looked her up and down. "I don't know what's wrong with you, but don't ever talk to me again." I then went ahead. Making shalom clench her coat sleeve... Don't come back to my life suddenly and act all possessive towards me. We're not even lovers, so why act that way? I thought grimly as I met up with Matilda. Matilda was now someone who I trust with my secrets. She knew about me and Shalom, it made her angry and more protective of me whenever Shalom visits the MBCC. Shalom didn't help at all by increasing the tension, taunting Matilda; She paid no mind to the bait that Shalom obviously presented to her. She grew more and more jealous at the relationship between me and Matilda, without knowing that me and her were just friends. I realized that Matilda felt more of a sister to me, rather than someone who I like in a romantic way, Matilda expressed the same feeling as well. One night, Shalom couldn't take it anymore. She had enough of seeing my closeness with Matilda. The lingering stares, touches, and the secrecy of words being whispered to one another's ear had plagued Shalom's mind all day. She had to stop this madness before her mania level will consume her... Meanwhile, I was busy in my office trying to connect the dots about the incident earlier that had happened outside of the MBCC's building. I heard the door swung open, and had expected it to be the chief. I was wrong. It was Shalom. After seeing who it was, I closed my eyes and heaved a deep sigh. I didn't want to deal with her, but I have to. It must be something important. "Do you require assistance, miss Shalom?" My voice held a professional tone to it, as I paused reading the files. "No, but I have something that I wanted to talk about." Making me nod stiffly. "...Alright." I looked at her with nothingness, making her feel... Odd about the look. "...Do you feel nothing towards me now?" She starts, as she met my gaze with a hint of sadness. "...Hm." I answered it vaguely, unable to comprehend why the question all of the sudden. She sits on my desk, papers long forgotten as she made herself comfortable. "What happened to the nights that we once shared together? Do you not miss it?" It took me a while to process it. "I mean... It's been months. I've been busy, you're busy as well." Her hand made its way to my chin, cupping it. "Don't you... Miss me?" Her voice, velvety, it almost made me shiver, if not for the fact that I just felt uncomfortable right now. "Um, not really?" My voice was uncertain, unable to determine if I indeed missed her at all. Making her frown. "What does Matilda have that I don't? Why is she so special to you?" Making me confused. Is she saying that Matilda is my girlfriend...? A baffled look made its way to my face, making her question me. "...You did not think I would notice, didn't you." As if stating a fact. I awkwardly replied, "We're close friends..." Her eyes had soften for a bit, but then narrowed. "You're kidding. You are together." "We're not." I state calmly. "I've seen the way you look at her. It's unnerving."

A shadow had crowded over Shalom's eyes. I sighed, explaining further about my relationship with Matilda. After explaining it for a bit, she seemed to have lighten up. "There. Now, do you get it?" She nods. "Yes. Now, I can do this..." She suddenly grabbed my collar and pulled me towards her. Making the space nonexistent between us. My breath hitched, heat immediately crept up to my face. Shalom took notice. "Ah, there it is. How I've missed that look." She cooed, making me jerk backwards and her grip loosening due to the sudden reaction. "Don't do this to me, Shalom." I hissed, upset at her actions. She then looked hurt. "What's wrong? Do you not perhaps want to continue our relationship?" I swiftly got out of my desk and made my way to the door. "Oh, no. I am not about to enter in that relationship again. I'm leaving." Her hand had grasped my wrist that was already twisting the door knob, in swift movement. "Tell me, what's wrong..." "Everything is! This whole thing started as an accident and ended with an MISTAKE! Shalom, god... I don't know how you are able to do this with a straight face, but I can't do this anymore. I want out." She then glared at me and responded. "It wasn't a mistake, tell me you didn't just say that now." Making me more irritable at the response. "What? Do you want me to pretend that it wasn't? Because it was! So stop!" She then cupped my face. "It wasn't to me. It might've started that way, but I ended up falling for you." Making me look at her in shock. "No, you're only saying that because you just want the sex." I hated sounding like I was hurt over this, when I know damn well when it was supposed to be that way anyways. "Why does it matter to you so much?" I sound distressed, pushing her away from me with much force. "We're not even dating." Shalom's next actions and words had caught me off guard. "But you belong to me." Her hand found it's way to my waist, pulling me towards her body once more. "Can't you see, that I feel strongly about you dear?" Her voice murmured against my collarbone. Teeth nipping at it, as I fail to conceal my voice. "I don't want anyone else but me to be near you, to have you, and to love you this way..." She possessively said, cupping my cheek with her free hand and tracing her thumb on my face, rubbing circles. "I'm obsessed with you, the reason why I am not able to return right away... Was because of how addicted I was from your warmth. It wasn't just the sex. I promise..." She soothes me by sucking on my neck, leaving a trail of marks as she worked her way up to my lips. "I love you. I want you to be mine, to belong to me... Darling." She whispered in my lips. I let her devour me. Whole. "You're mine. I don't intend to share you or settle for second best. No one compares to you." She declared. I whimpered. "What about your bodyguard? Didn't you lust for her as well...?" She smirks, unzipping my skirt and tracing my underwear. "Oh, her? I only said that to make you jealous. I wanted you to act possessive of me. But it backfired." She explained, but not before harshly tugging down my skirt, tearing off my blouse. "All of these... Are for my eyes only. I regret teasing you. Allow me to make up for it..." She then harshly palmed my breast while my bra was on. Her fingers danced around my inner thigh...

[sayruq]

Top Israeli and Egyptian officials held a secret meeting in Cairo on 24 April, aimed at discussing Tel Aviv’s plans for an invasion of Gaza’s southernmost city of Rafah. Three senior Israeli officials told Axios on Wednesday that Shin Bet chief Ronen Bar and Israeli army chief Herzi Halevi met with the head of Egyptian intelligence, Abbas Kamel, and Egypt’s army chief Osama Askar. The report came the same day that an Israeli defense official said that Israel will launch the operation in Rafah as soon as it gets government approval. Israel is “moving ahead” with the operation, a spokesman for Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu said, but gave no specific time frame.

US and Israeli officials held a virtual meeting last week to discuss plans for Rafah. The decision to launch the operation is “conditions-based and not time-based, and connected to the humanitarian situation on the ground,” Tel Aviv emphasized to Washington during the meeting, according to US officials. The Wall Street Journal (WSJ) reported on 23 April, citing Egyptian officials, that Israel’s evacuation plans for Rafah are near complete. The plan will take two to three weeks and will be carried out in cooperation with Washington, Cairo, and other Arab states, including the UAE. Egyptian forces have deployed in the northern Sinai and along the Gaza border, and are at “full readiness” after being briefed by Israel on plans for Rafah, Al-Araby Al-Jadeed reported on 18 April.

Israel’s evacuation plan involves moving Rafah’s civilian population upwards towards the southern city of Khan Yunis, as well as other areas of the strip, the report states, adding that shelters with tents, food supplies, and medical facilities will be set up. Recently published satellite images show a large tent compound in Khan Yunis and Israeli troop gatherings at army bases and outposts near the strip – signaling that the invasion of Rafah may be imminent.

[neysaadept]

Prometheus Chapter 6

Emily Prentiss x Female CIA Reader

Chapter 6 - Restart

Tags: Limited use of y/n but established last name. Swearing, mentions of the pandemic and human and sex trafficking. Canon typical violence. Sexual innuendos. Drinking. Minors DNI.

Word Count: 3.9k

AO3

Chapter 5

You walk into Quantico with a new sense of purpose after having drinks with Prentiss last night. The barrier that the section chief had built up with assumptions and unknowns had been removed and replaced with cautious optimism. That you can work with – a mutual understanding that you’re both on the same side, you meant no harm and were not a threat to the BAU. As it was a workday, you only shared another drink together but the two of you nursed them slowly.

As you still couldn’t say much about your past, you did elaborate on the high-speed pursuit that Tara hinted at.

“Yeah, so it all worked out. Dumb ass fell right into the spike strips. Took care of that quick once I got ‘em there,” you explain before taking another swallow of beer.

“They never learn.” Prentiss smiles and takes a sip as well. “But keeping pace with them was something else. No wonder they panicked.”

You smile. “Yep! Intel was good that they weren’t carrying much. They fired off a few rounds here and there to scare us off. Try and get me to fall back. They just never got the memo that the CIA Surveillance and Pursuit class was renamed cuz of me.” You raise your beer and wink at Prentiss. “Now affectionately known as the Maniac Chase Class.”

“Oh my god! That was you?” She laughs, shaking her head in amazement.

“Yeah. I gotta wee bit carried away on my third try.” You shrug coyly. “Really wanted to beat that record.”

“You demolished it.” She smirks. “And the car.”

“Which slid across the line for a new record,” you explain with pride and then pause for dramatic effect, holding your arms out, beer still in hand, “And … I walked away without a single injury.”

“See, that part I thought was all hype,” Emily admits and looks inquisitive.

“No, sadly. It helped I was young and dumb when I did it.” You say with introspective embarrassment. “I was so fucking stupid.”

She snorts with agreement while doing mental math. “Wait, how old were you when he recruited you?”

“Young,” you vaguely admit.

“But you joined before me,” she says, knowing you were aware of her records and nod that she was correct. “I joined late ’97 and everyone just naturally talked about the course like that.” You heard the implication. She meant that the nickname wasn’t a new idea and was trying to figure out how much longer you have been in the CIA before she joined.

You clear your throat in caution. “Leave it alone, Prentiss. I … I honestly can’t say anything more.” You grimace, knowing you already said too much.

Emily didn’t press for further information, but you knew she gleaned enough to make educated assumptions. You felt like a fool, letting your guard down like that, but the conversation flowed easily between the two of you. It felt … nice, being able to connect with someone new. That hadn’t happened since Rebecca.

You’ll need to keep your guard up since Prentiss reaffirmed that you would be a proper member of the BAU starting today. They would want to get to know you, and you them. You just have to remember to tone it down and not get carried away with enthusiasm. Keep Brian’s wisdom close to your heart that this is new to you and ground yourself. Don’t get swept away with emotions, like last night.

It was a late start at Quantico for you since you had to start at Langley. The stipend funds had been approved and your signature was needed on a lot of paperwork. Finance assured you that the money would be deposited into the BAU budget by the end of day. Prentiss would be able give Bailey the proverbial finger on Monday when she distributed the funds, pushing the unit into the green, leaving the penny pincher helpless with his mission to disband the BAU that way.

Prentiss had texted you that the team would be ready for you in the conference room discussing their current caseloads and leads and would wait for you, providing you that proper do over with them. You appreciated that and said as such in reply.

As you head off the elevator to the sixth floor, you felt a renewed sense of purpose and belonging. You even put a little more effort into your outfit, choosing a charcoal grey pants suit with a black sleeveless semi-spread polo collar, and comfy black work shoes with decent tread. You had your backpack on, holding the straps over your chest as you survey the area.

True to her word, the team was already in the conference room. Garcia happens to see you first and smiles big, giving you a quick, animated wave that caught Prentiss’ attention. She was standing and angles her body to the left to see who was there and visibly relaxes noticing it was you. The team follows her gaze as Prentiss gestures for you to join them.

JJ looks from Prentiss to Rossi, who was suspiciously smirking up at Emily. “And why are you smiley this morning?”

“Hm?” he looks over at her as Prentiss’ attention turns towards the exchange. “Oh, just delighted Whitlock can join us. Orientation’s a pain in the ass.”

He was equally relieved and surprised that Emily spoke to you as quickly as she did. Because of that, he wouldn’t press the orientation fib being told to the team.

“Man, I wish I had the short version like she did when I joined,” Luke grumbles playfully.

“Yeah, but you needed a lot of work honey, and honestly … still do, unlike our CIA cutie,” Garcia chides as you walk in.

“That my new rank?” you say with twinkling eyes and a brow raising to the group. “CIA cutie?”

The members collectively chuckle and laugh at the joke and as you look at Prentiss, she was fighting to keep her lips from curling upwards.

“No. Still a consultant.” Prentiss admits. She gestures to an empty seat between Tara and Garcia. “Please have a seat and we’ll get started.”

You nod and slip past Prentiss, sliding the backpack off your shoulders. You place it on the ground behind your chair and sit down. As you look at the BAU members starting back at you, you feel daunted. But you got this and look eagerly at Prentiss to kick this off.

“I know things have been hectic this week with all the changes and assignments and getting Whitlock up to speed on FBI protocols. She still has a few more items to go over, but I’m pulling her in since we can use all the help we can get,” Prentiss explains. “Garcia, mind getting Whitlock up to speed where we’re at?

Garcia immediately speaks up, almost bouncing on the seat at the chance. “You got it, Ma’am.”

Emily winces and presses her hand down towards Garcia. “What have I said about that?”

She smiles. “Not to call you Ma’am.”

“Please remember that.”

“You got it, Boss Ma’am.” Garcia says cheekily.

Emily sits down in a huff, and you have to cover your mouth to hide the smile on your face. The team did not hide their amusement at the banter.

“Anyway,” Garcia says and laces her fingers together before turning her hands inside out to crack them, “time for catch up!”

Her fingers dance across the keyboard and immediately your eyes go to screen depicting a U.S. map with sixteen dots. Each dot had a line that led to a description of the kill kit number, contents and the city and state of its location. Two of the dots are red, the others blue.

“We have recovered fourteen of the sixteen kill kits, no thanks to our firebug in holding right now. The two missing are from Indio, CA and Rockville, MD and your technological goddess is monitoring anything in the surrounding areas that sounds Sicariusy like.”

“How wide’s the radius?” you ask.

“Fifty,” she answers while you nod. “So far nothing’s pinged that shouts out, ‘I’m a Sicarius henchmen’. However, Mr. Dishonorably Discharged had a test kit that was really oooooold based on soil samples.”

“Five years isn’t that old,” JJ says.

“But the kits being activated by Sicarius, it is,” explains Rossi. “All the lockers we’ve found have new tech, supplies, chemicals …”

“Lab did confirm the soil samples from our kits are newer. So why give Green something older?” Prentiss asks the team.

“Maybe this one fit Green’s M.O. better?” Luke offers.

“Maybe, but I don’t think so,” says Rossi.

“What are you thinking, Dave?” urges Prentiss.

“That Green was set up?” you offer, looking between Prentiss and Rossi.

He half smiles, impressed, and points to you casually. “Kid’s good. That’s exactly what I’m thinking. Maybe he was testing Green to see what he’d do. Confirm if he was truly loyal or not.”

“And either way, Sicarius would get what he wanted. A big explosion or expose Green for who he really is,” JJ says emphatically. “

“All right.” Prentiss takes a moment to digest this and addresses everyone. “Give me some options.”

Luke leans back and gestures to Garcia. “Green was the last to see his sister. So, we’re thinking a cognitive interview might help him remember any details of that night. Anything that could help him ID the guy that took her.”

“Good luck trying to get him to agree to it,” states Tara. “He has big problems with authority figures. He won’t cooperate unless he has good reason.”

“How’s not finding his sister’s killer a good reason?” you ask.

“Oh, he’s really pissed off.” Prentiss says as you raise a brow. “We took away his chance at catching Sicarius and enacting his revenge.”

“And he really doesn’t like that I’m a Fed again.” Garcia pouts with that admission. “He sent me all that info thinking I was still distanced from all of this.” She gestures wildly at the room.

Prentiss looks sympathetic. “But we have to try. Luke, I need you to talk to Green and get him to agree to the cognitive interview. JJ, keep watch on the exchange.” They both nod and she addresses Garcia. “Keep working on any leads that might help us find those missing kill kits. Whitlock, you’ll assist.”

You visibly perk up at the sound of your name and look thankful for a hands-on opportunity. Inwardly, you were doing backflips. Prentiss could feel you buzzing with internal excitement and chuckles. “Not like you can catch up on any paperwork you don’t have yet.”

Rossi and Tara groan while Luke and JJ share a smirk.

“Oh, don’t even,” admonishes Prentiss. “You both get to play catch up in between interviewing Green until a case comes in.”

Luke is silent, lowering his head in defeat as JJ frowns while pouting. “Aww.”

Now that the team had their assignments, Garcia was utterly giddy and squeals towards you. “Come Robin! To the Batcave!”

Garcia catches you up on everything over the next few hours. From the hidden message apps on the unsubs phones, to the discussion forums, and how Sicarius used this to gain followers so he could teach them the ways of being sadistic killers. She had identified the usernames of the unsubs and was able to find that they all chatted with Sicarius - User45125. They also learned about the different murder methods that matched up with the bodies found in the shipping container. Out of the lockers that are missing, the BAU believes that kits would contain methods to kill by acid and strangulation to match the last of the victims.

“I can’t trace any direct messaging, so that’s why all of this is based on the forum info me and JJ combed through,” Garcia says, ending her lengthy summation.

“What a sick fuck.” You shake your head in disgust. “Play with the first round of victims and pass all that fun on to his new friends who do it all over again.”

You were sitting to the left of Garcia, lightly turning the chair back and forth with a foot on the floor. To your delight, it didn’t bother her. It was a habit you developed over time to help you think. You look over the conversations that Sicarius had with the unsubs and Green. He definitely narrowed down the chosen ones based on their psychopathic thrills.

“How many are on this message board again?” you ask, gesturing at the screens.

“Over half a million. Which just…bleh!” Garcia pauses, shivering for dramatic effect, “Makes me feel all squicky that there are that many of them chatting in one spot. But I narrowed down the really, really, bad naughties to seventeen k.”

“Damn. Fucker’s been busy.” You go silent as you calculate options with the information the BAU had.

Garcia glances at you, seeing your eyes darting back and forth in concentration. “What’cha thinking there?”

“I’m not sure. It’s just … “ you pause, words softening, “a half formed thought. A possibility.” You turn towards Garcia. “Can you narrow the users further by who hasn’t been active in a few months? At least since Green last contacted Sicarius? Bonus if longer.”

She blinks rapidly at you and looks put out. “Can I?!” She then closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “Since you’re new, I will let that slight pass, but there is nothing I can’t do, missy.”

Except get your file, but you don’t need to know that!

“Apologies, M’Lady!” You smile, making sure to file that away to not offend the bubbly woman in the future. “If you would be so kind and continue working your magic?”

“And the lady shall be kind!” Garcia says with vigor and starts narrowing down the possibilities further.

The two of you work diligently over the next few hours. You guide Garcia with different traits to knock down the users into something manageable with the information that can be extracted from text. Emoji use, shorten expressions, length of posts, seeking knowledge and showboating instead of trying to engage in an emotional connection, aggressive language use, and interests.

“Here you go.” Garcia calls up a list of usernames that fit your specifications. “One-hundred and thirty-four.”

“Have any of those spoke to our guy at length? Something substantial?”

“Hm, yes!” She pulls those up.

That got you down to thirty-eight. “And how many of those appear to have contacted him through direct messaging?” You couldn’t know for sure but based on the flow of conversation and quality, there were hints.

She types quickly. “Ah, fourteen.” She shows you the names.

“List them by last known contact with him – earliest to latest.”

“Done.”

“Now pull up last few messages from each.”

“Also done.”

You read through them, ignoring the majority as you skim but there were a few that stood out.

Dark_Muse: Fucking cunt is finally gonna pay!!! Girls night is gonna end on a high!!!

_piouspisces: Woke up from a dream today. Hope it comes true. Just have to set up the right ingredients. Need advice on lacing paper. I have some ideas but need confirmation.

FlamePit23: The world only makes sense at sunrise and sunset. It’s when it looks like the world is set on fire. Beautiful.

You point to that last username. “Show me this one’s profile.”

Garcia clicks on it and reads. “’Nothing burns as bright as the rage inside you. Cultivate and embrace it. Keep it under your control’. Oh, they go on to say to never make any friends. That’s cheerful and lonely.”

“But they admitted to ‘nurturing others so I can take them off guard. Like my mother did to me when I was younger’ makes me think this one’s female,” you say while tapping the screen. “What’s the date and timestamp on the last message?”

“That would be … August 12, 2022 0550.”

You would bet that it was close to sunrise on that day when the user posted.

You pull your hand back to cup your chin in thought as Garcia looks oddly at you. “You know, I’ve been doing this a really, really long time, and I can usually predict where people are going with their data mining. But you? I have zilch of an idea because this makes no sense to me.”

You heard she was talking, but you weren’t listening. You were too focused on formulating a plan.

She puckers her lips in annoyance at being ignored and snaps her fingers twice in front of your face. “Hello?”

“Oh!” you say, jerking back into awareness. “I’m trying to come up with a crazy plan.”

“Please tell me this won’t result in you going AWOL again …” Prentiss had entered and neither of them had heard the door open.

You and Garcia share a look wondering if she even knocked as Prentiss walks in further expectantly. “Well?”

You sit back and reassure her. “Ah, no. Course not.”

“Wait. So, you really went AWOL?” Garcia asks curiously. “Did you serve before the CIA?”

“I didn’t serve.” You bit your lower lip and nod, coming to terms with what you can say. “I did some training with military personnel. All informal.”

You and the other four recruits had gone through training with the Green Berets, Navy Seals, and Delta Force. Something you couldn’t disclose as it technically never happened, hence, the informal part of your cover. You also are glad Garcia was distracted by that and didn’t ask you to elaborate on the AWOL matter.

Garcia whistles. “Wowzer.”

That made you smile. “A very simple, yet precise, way to put it.”

“A talent of hers for sure. But let’s get back to this crazy plan of yours,” insists Prentiss as she leans against the desk on the other side of Garcia.

“Again, it’s just the start of one but it could be a way to infiltrate Sicarius’ chosen ones without the need for vengeance to fuck things up.”

“You really say that word a lot,” notices Garcia.

“What?”

Garcia struggles by opening and closing her mouth like a fish to try and get the word out, but Prentiss beats her to it. “Fuck.”

“Huh?” You look at the section chief with confusion. “No thank you?”

“That’s… that’s not what I meant!” She answers, speaking quickly as you fluster her with the insinuation, and you couldn’t hold in your laughter any longer.

“What’s so funny?” she snaps.

“You!” you answer between cackles. “I knew what you meant.”

Garcia at least has the decency to look away while trying to fight off her own snickers as Prentiss takes a hand to her head to rub at her temples. “I swear to god, Whitlock …”

“Anyway …” you grin. “The idea is to chat him up with a username that is not entirely inactive but hasn’t been used in a bit. Think we found a prospect.”

Prentiss’ irritation with you changes to interest. “That so?”

Garcia nods. “Now that I know what the plan is, yes. I can do a deeper dive into this user and see what I can dig up.”

“Less is more, in this case,” you explain thoughtfully. “If we infiltrate this way, we gotta have enough info to be this user without him really knowing who this is. So, if you can find who they are, then we’re back to finding another. Because that means he would know their identity, too.”

Prentiss nods. “Do it. Green isn’t cooperating at all like Tara figured. He wouldn’t agree to the cognitive interview. Might as well see how this pans out while JJ tries to change Green’s mind.”

“On it, Boss Ma’am!” Garcia jests as she gets to work.

Prentiss looks up at the ceiling as if searching for patience, but as brown eyes come down, they focus on you. “Come with me and bring your stuff.”

“Sure thing.” You rise, grabbing your backpack but before you follow Prentiss, you squeeze Garcia’s shoulder. “This was nice. Working with you, that is.”

She tears her eyes away from the screen to look up at your soulful eyes. You really appreciated how Garcia jumped into working with you with fervor and not giving you the cold shoulder from earlier this week. “Aww, sweetie! Yes, we’ll keep working at it to make this idea blossom into a full blown plan!”

You smile so hard your cheeks hurt and stay that way until Garcia gets back to work. You then meet up with Prentiss to walk out together.

“Good first day.” It was an observation by the section chief.

“Yeah, it really was.” You were smiling again. “Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” Her tone carries a mystique to it, and you become captivated while walking to the bullpen together. “But I owe you a proper thank you. Langley sent me the confirmation of funds.”

“I’ll behave.” Prentiss’ eyes widen when you say that. “I won’t start making it rain money at you in celebration.”

She chuckles. “So, you can control it?”

“Occasionally.”

“Good. Then I’ve no regrets in getting you something.”

That made you perk up. “You got me something?”

“Bit overdue, but …” Prentiss stops without warning at the first desk to the right when you enter the bullpen. “… it’s yours.”

You are befuddled as you shift your gaze from Prentiss to the desk and audibly gasp. Resting on top of it was your name on display as a consultant. “Wow.”

Pleased with your reaction, she nudges you with her elbow. “This is when you’re supposed to thank me.”

“Ah, right!” you laugh, awkwardly rubbing the back of your neck before looking to her with a radiant smile. “Thank you, Prentiss.”

Your response without jest disarms her like it did last night over drinks. Your gazes lock for several beats and you just stand there with sincere gratitude that she welcomed you as a member of the team.

She recovers quickly with a stiff nod and motions to your desk. “You’re welcome. When you’re done getting settled, get back to working on that angle with Garcia.”

“You got it.” You immediately round the desk, already slipping off your backpack to place on top of it as Prentiss heads to her office.

That felt really nice to say in your head. Your desk. When was the last time you had a desk with a name plate? Everything you did was covert up until now so flashing your name and credentials was the equivalent to placing a target on your back with a bright flashing sign that says, ‘Shoot me!’. The right people knew your name when on mission, but most of your identity was done under aliases and callsigns.

You take a quick inventory of what’s on the desk – laptop connected to dual monitors, keyboard and mouse, stacked plastic organizers, phone, stapler, black plastic pen holder that was empty.

Guess I’ll have to find supplies…

You pick up the stapler and click it, watching a used staple hit the desk. At least that was ready to go for all the paperwork you’ll be doing now. The team will be excited to hear that! You then pull out the chair to get acquainted with the drawers only to be shocked for the second time today.

Waiting for you on the chair was a six pack of Diet Coke bottles with a blue sticky note attached. You peel it off to read and immediately smile.

Welcome to the BAU, Whitlock.

EP

@unkonw00 @ara-a-bird @rayisaknight @sevyscoven

[matan4il]

We've lost so many people since the last time I could make a news update post, that I find it hard to write about them all. I guess at the very least, I need to write about 38 years old Elad Fingerhut, father of 3, who was murdered by Hezbollah on our Independence Day. He was a civilian, who happened to be nearby when a terrorist rocket attack on Israel's north started, he realized soldiers were hurt, and ran in to help. That's when he was hit directly by a following anti-tank missile fired at the same spot. He was murdered for being a decent human being, willing to help others even under fire.

The IDF has recovered the bodies of 4 Israeli hostages, all of them were murdered on Oct 7 and it was their bodies that the terrorists had kidnapped. The corpses were found thanks to military intel in a tunnel in northern Gaza, next to explosive devices, so Hamas was actually using these bodies as a booby trap to kill Israeli soldiers. I will never understand people stanning an organization capable of murdering innocent civilians, and then using their bodies like that. The four hostages were Shani Louk, Ron Benjamin, Itzhak Gelerenter, and Amit Buskila. As far as I'm aware, only Shani was confirmed as murdered on Oct 7 before this operation, so bringing the bodies back allows, in addition to proper burial of the murdered, for the families to finally know what happened to their loved ones, get to mourn, and hopefully start processing, and eventually, healing. As for Shani herself? Just a small reminder that on Oct 7 itself a vid was published, showing her body stripped down, leg broken, tossed into the back of a truck, guarded by armed terrorists, with a random Gazan teenager was spitting on her violated corpse, and after that, a Gaza "journalist" called her family to lie to them and claim Shani's alive, just injured, and being treated in a hospital for her wound. If that's not enough, a Gaza "photojournalist" won an award for taking a picture showing the Hamas terrorists riding the truck on top of her. Now her family can finally find comfort in knowing their kid is at rest.

There are at this time 128 hostages in Gaza still, at least 39 are believed to be bodies. This includes two Thai men who were kidnapped from Israel, for whom there is now evidence that they were murdered on Oct 7, and their corpses are held hostage.

May the memory of all Palestinian terrorists' victims be a blessing.

I assume everyone knows already that the (undemocratically elected) president of Iran, Ibrahim Raisi, known as "the butcher of Tehran," has been killed in a helicopter crash. What people may not be aware of is that the UN has actually observed a moment of silence for the man who personally oversaw the murder of countless innocent Iranians, many of them as part of the Islamic regime's gender-targeted violence, and who, as part of the regime, was responsible for many more deaths of people around the world, including financing Hamas and so enabling the Oct 7 massacre. In fact, the UN secretary general has extended personal condolences to the people and government of Iran for Raisi's death, as per his official statement. Here's what the UN's one tweet about it looks like:

(I'm not surprised that the top comment is an angry one from a Ukrainian woman, since the Iranian regime does supply Russia with attack drones and missiles)

Meanwhile, do you know how long it took the UN to officially discuss for the first time the hostages abducted from Israel on Oct 7, as part of a massacre enabled by Iran? Seven and a half months (discussion held on May 16, five days ago). But sure, the UN isn't biased at all, and is totally reliable and a force for peace. Please keep this in mind as the UN's judicial arms, the ICJ and ICC, continue to make a mockery of justice and the idea of international humanitarian law. Hey, did you know that the ICC's chief prosecutor never asked for arrest warrants against Raisi?

Meanwhile, around the world, antisemitism has only been intensifying. Some recent incidents include an Israeli father living in Belgium being attack by an anti-Israel mob in front of his visiting daughter, in France they burned down a synagogue (great how I couldn't find a single headline where the synagogue attack was mentioned before the fate of the attacker following it), in Sweden there were shots fired near the Israeli embassy, and in NYC a man randomly stopped his bike by a group of religious Jewish kids playing on the street and physically attacked them...

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[swanimagines]

NEVER YOU | KAZ BREKKER

Summary: Kaz has hated you for no reason for a long time, but you were always ignoring him being mean. But one day, you actually do get hurt by his insult - and that eventually leads to something you didn't know would happen.

The Crow Club was unusually quiet that day. Only a few players were present, one at the bar counter downing his first pint and you knew only by the looks of him that he’d keep downing them until he’s kicked out. Another customer at the table was cheating, and you knew Jesper noticed it too.

You saw Kaz’s shadow coming down the stairs before you even heard the click of his cane. The shadow grew bigger, until Kaz was standing on your right and you smiled at him.

“Morning, boss,” you greeted him, only to be met with a glare before he turned away. You sighed, he had been like that for almost six months, it started a couple of months after you became a Crow - you hadn’t even done anything, at least nothing you could point out why Kaz hated you so much. Maybe he just hated kindness, being so ruthless himself.

You turned your attention back to your breakfast, munching away as you read the newspaper until all the customers were out, and you saw the Crows gathering together at the bar counter. You momentarily met eyes with Inej, and Kaz retorted something, making Inej look at him again. By the looks of it, you figured it’s a Crow thing, meaning you should be there too. So you stood up from the table, and saw them looking at a blueprint that was spread on the counter.

“Is that our next target?” you asked. “Hm, van Putten manor. I can already see–”

Kaz interrupted you before you could even finish your sentence. He didn’t even look at you when he spoke, his voice colder than it usually was. “You won’t be needed during this heist. You’d only be dead weight, slowing everyone down. You would ruin the whole thing.” He gave you a dismissive glance. “Get out of my sight.”

Usually his insults didn’t feel like much of anything, but this time his words really stung you somehow. Maybe it was a bad day for you, or maybe his continuous insults and degrading remarks had taken their toll on you. Or maybe you had hoped too hard that he and you would become friends eventually. 

When he first met you, it had gone so well. He had wanted you to be part of Dregs, and soon he had made you a Crow. A few months after being a Crow, he had started to hate you, and you never knew what had you done. Every single thing, you existing, you making breakfast, you laughing, you appearing behind his door with intel - everything seemed to make him hate you even more. Others didn’t know anything about it either, everyone was just as puzzled as you were.

You weren’t exactly friends with the other five, never really attempting to get to know them. Instead, you had hit it off with Kaz so well, you had even thought you’d be the one to crack the cold steely walls Dirtyhands held up. You thought you’d grow close with him, even. But no, he was actively pushing you away, hating you for some reason.

You took a step back and without a word, left the Club and made your way to the Slat in pouring rain, biting back tears. 

Kaz was surely happy about that.

—

You had a gnawing feeling. It told you that something was wrong - something with the heist. You had laid in bed, trying to read your book - but you just couldn’t shed the feeling no matter how much you tried.

So, after pacing around your room for a good fifteen minutes, you grabbed your coat, your knives and your gun before heading out, taking the fastest route you knew towards the van Putten manor.

You arrived at the garden, and immediately knew what was wrong. All six of your colleagues were detained, held in place, the chief guard looking them over.

“Dirtyhands himself,” the guard laughed, tilting his head. “I thought you and your little friends here would be an actually challenging bunch, but instead you basically offered yourselves to us.”

You frowned. Kaz almost never failed with his plans and if he did, he always had a way out. Was this part of his plan too? An unusually dangerous plan, not really fitting Kaz’s style.

You ducked under the fence when a flashlight almost hit you, quietly crawling forward so you could look at the scene from behind a bush.

“There’s quite a price for your heads,” the chief guard continued. “Merchants all around the city will be pleased to know their manors are safe, because the infamous Dirtyhands is finally dead.”

You heard a gun click, and that’s when you struck. You threw a knife on one guard, put a bullet into another’s head, kicked the third unconscious. Everything happened so fast, but it still felt like slow motion. A guard approached you from the right and you hit him right on the nose, blood spurted out as you heard a satisfying crack, feeling the nose shatter beneath your wrist. You turned around again, ready to take on another guard, when you suddenly collapsed on the ground and was unable to get up.

The pain wasn’t even there. Your leg just started feeling numb, and you fell on the ground, seeing how your trousers had started turning red. Your vision started to blur. You saw movement around you, heard muffled gunshots and shouts, and then you felt pressure around your calf, and groaned at the numb pain. Then, you were lifted off from the ground, and at that moment you went under.

—

Kaz had been pacing around for days, occasionally stopping by your door, being much more tense, not eating properly, sleeping even worse, his hair looking disheveled more. Inej had never seen Kaz like that. From her understanding, Kaz hated you, wanted you to be gone, out of sight, like you wouldn’t even exist. She had wondered why Kaz kept you within the Crows if he hated you so much, but Kaz had reasoned it with saving money, that letting you go would mean he’d have to give you payoff which would be more than your usual salary was. Which didn’t make sense because he’s losing more money by keeping you, but Inej hadn’t pushed it.

If she hadn't known better, she’d think Kaz cared about you. But she knew it would be unlikely, he was so cruel to you, basically bullying you - and sometimes it felt like he even enjoyed bullying you. Inej never saw even one hint of regret in his eyes when he had insulted you.

But, last time he had insulted you, you had actually gotten hurt. And Inej hadn’t looked at Kaz, she had looked after you disappearing from the door.

Would it be possible that the flicker of regret would have been in Kaz’s eyes then?

They were all worried, checking up on you occasionally, visiting you, sitting by your bed talking to you, apologising they had never even tried to get to know you better, but Kaz was by far the most worried, even if it didn’t seem like it. He never paid you a visit or asked how you are recovering from Nina, but they all saw how he acted during you being unconscious.

After a few days, Nina came downstairs, a soft smile on her face. “She’s awake.”

Kaz almost stood up the second Nina said that, Inej noted. It was silent for a moment before Kaz actually stood up, slowly starting to climb the stairs. Inej switched amused glances with Nina and Jesper, maybe there was something much more than hate to it after all.

—

You heard a knock on your door and sat up slightly, groaning as your leg protested. “Come in.” After your invite, the door slowly opened, revealing your visitor.

It was Kaz.

You frowned, definitely not expecting him. “Boss?”

He stared at you for a moment, before he made his way to the armchair two feet apart from your bed, and you heard his leather gloves creaking as he squeezed his cane. He had his eyes averted from you and was silent for a moment. Your lamp barely provided light, you couldn’t make up any expressions from his face, you pretty much only saw his silhouette.

“We need to talk,” he then mumbled, turning his head towards you but not looking at you.

His voice lacked the coldness it usually held, instead having something else you couldn’t place. You were quiet for a few seconds and then sat up a little more. “Okay, what do you want to talk about?”

He was quiet for a moment, before he took in a deep breath. “I’ve been… unnecessarily harsh to you. I never even gave you a chance to understand. I… apologise for that.”

You blinked. Kaz Brekker apologising? You stared at him silently for a good moment, before you found your voice again. “Could you explain why you hated me now? What did I do?”

“It was never about you,” he replied quickly, and swallowed, seemingly gathering his courage again. “It’s me. Your kindness, how you treated me like a human, how you always looked at me without a hint of fear from the start… it made me uneasy. It reminded me of… something I’ve tried to forget, something I’ve tried to think of as a weakness. So I pushed you away before you got too close and made sure you stayed at arm’s length by pretending I hate you.”

You were silent again for a moment, your brows furrowing. “So, just to clarify, you don’t actually hate me?”

Kaz sighed, finally meeting your eyes. “No, I don’t hate you. I never did.”

It was hard for him to admit, you could tell. He was there, vulnerable, raw even. Maybe for the last time you’d see him like that. He looked like he truly regretted how he treated you - not valuing you enough, thinking his affection for you was a weakness he should get rid of.

“I forgive you,” you then murmured, a soft smile gracing your lips. “It takes guts from you to come to me like this, stepping out from the castle you built around yourself. So, I forgive you.”

Kaz’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, and you let out a small giggle at it. Then, his lips twitched upwards. A smile. Barely there.

It made your heart skip a beat and you felt blood traveling up to your face.

You bit your lip, trying to compose yourself before Kaz noticed anything. “Um…I’m kind of hungry, could you maybe ask someone to bring me something? Nina said I shouldn’t walk with this leg unless I want a cane for life too.”

Kaz let out a puff of air through his nose, closest to laugh you had ever heard him go. Then, he stood up. “I’ll let them know.”

You shifted slightly, moving to rest your back against your headboard. “Kaz?”

He stopped and turned his head towards you. “Hm?”

You smiled. “Thank you.”

He stood still for a moment, and then made his way out, leaving you fiddling with a string of your nightgown, your face hot.

Maybe this would lead to something more.

---

Requests are always open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)

[panther-os]

@amikoroyaiart did this awesome commission of my OC Lennie and my version of Ghost! I've wanted to commission her since I first came across her art over a year ago but it took me a while to save and just ahhhhhhh so worth it

Fun fact! The pants are uniform accurate. 141 is an international task force, and while Ghost and many of the rest of the team are SAS and wear black or navy fatigues, Lennie is an tArm (Irish Army) and wears that specific camo pattern! Their neon pink hair is definitely out of regulation, but no one dares call them on it.

Lennie is nonbinary and their full name and rank is Lieutenant Lennie Lynch. They're from Carrick-on-Shannon in Leitrim County of Ireland, and they're the 141's Chief Logistics & Supply Officer. Anything from toilet paper to ammo to fresh fruit to video games, it all goes through them. They have a ton of smuggler contacts in order to get supplies out to remote areas, and they use this network for information as well.

Basically Laswell's job, but more focused on keeping people alive via food and bandages and etc than keeping people alive via intel on the enemy.

Price met Lennie at the same time he met Nikolai. It was a joint an tArm and SAS operation where the two squads wound up trapped in a snowstorm with dwindling supplies, including much-needed medical supplies. Lennie asked for an hour with the sat phone, spent that time making threats and promises and calling in favors, and then Nikolai (the only pilot good enough and crazy enough) dropped off the supplies not too much later, which is how he and Price met. Then, a few years later, Price pulled Lennie for the Taskforce knowing their skills would be needed.

Lennie drinks far too many cups of coffee a day, barely sleeps, and spends the majority of their time in their dark office staring at computer screens. Their first date with Ghost was a joint nap on their office couch. Their best frenemy is @atohii 's OC Niko, the Chief Medical Officer, friend because they've made him weep tears of gratitude over the supplies he needs to keep everyone healthy, enemy because they've cut him off from energy drinks (the hypocrite) and gotten the entire rest of the base involved in it.

It's best assumed that Lennie knows everything and could be anywhere. They walk very quietly and often surprise people by slurping their coffee from right behind them. If they were an animal, they'd be a wild hare - the kind that surely speaks a thousand tongues and knows exactly how you die.

Ghost is still with Soap, and Soap is also with Niko, and sometimes Ghost and Niko are together as well, but romantically, Lennie's just with Ghost. We love a poly141.

This Ghost is based on TikTok cosplayer Kuromi (his account is tagged MDNI, please respect that) and Irish actor Fra Fee (because Les Mis is an old SpIn and my Ghost is Irish, his ggparents immigrated to Manchester during the Great Hunger). I don't have any specific scar or tattoo headcanons for Ghost, but I like Amiko's usual spread so I asked her to just use those, and I'm thrilled with how it came out!

And just ahhhhhhh I'm still screaming over Lennie 😍

[rizlowwritessortof]

Swearing Is Caring

Second square for @jacklesverse-bingo 2024!

Written for Jacklesversebingo2024. Prompt for this one is 'drenched in sweat and blood but never looked hotter.' Hope you enjoy!

The last time Andi showed up on Russ's doorstep, he was more than happy to see her. This time is different. But he never could stay mad at her for long, and making up is the best part.

Pairing: Russell Shaw x OC (Andi)

Word Count: 3835

Warnings: Just a little smut and fluff, non-lethal injuries

Andi sat in the car outside the cabin, fingers clenched around the steering wheel as she expelled a tense breath between pursed lips. He was not going to be happy, but she had already decided it was worth it. He’d just have to deal with it.

She pried her fingers loose and got out of her car, loading her bag on one shoulder and heading for the door. She lifted her chin, then knocked briskly before stepping inside.

Russell came out of the next room, his gun held low at his hip, his entire body alert and aware. When his focus landed on her, his shoulders relaxed and he tucked his gun away with a frown. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Andi looked him in the eye. “Heard you were a man down. So I’m here to help.”

He tucked his gun away, shaking his head, his lips pressed into a straight line as he glared at her. “Goddammit, Andi. She called you, didn’t she.”

“Ann? Yeah, she called me. But this was my decision.”

“Well, I’m overruling your decision. Go home.” He turned his back to walk away, but he didn’t get far.

“I’m not leaving, Russ.”

He whirled to face her again, his eyes sparking with anger at her defiance. “You’re a fucking civilian. You’ve got no business getting involved in this.”

“She said one of the guys was out with an injury and your team was going in down a gun. I’m not letting you go in short when I’m this close. So deal with it, Russell. I’m not leaving. You can’t send me home, Horizon hired me for this job. Out of your hands, big man.”

She pushed her way by him, entering the next room where the rest of the team was gathered. “Andi?! Holy shit!” She grinned at the ebony-skinned giant who charged at her, pulling her off the floor in a bear hug. “Come here, baby girl! Damn, it’s good to see you!”

She was laughing as he set her down. “Hey, Sweets. Good to see you, too. Hey, Seeger,” she said to another former teammate, who gave her a one-armed hug and friendly smirk, returning her greeting.

Sweets shoved at the shoulder of the younger man beside him. “This is Conner.”

Andi smiled and nodded. “Hey, Conner. Nice to meet you.”

“Didn’t tell us Andi was comin’ with us, chief,” Sweets aimed at Russell, who was still glowering.

“Didn’t know. Now if the reunion is over, can we get back to business?” Russ turned his back on them, smoothing the map out flat on the large table. Sweets glanced at Andi, who rolled her eyes, earning her a smirk and a nod from the big man as they gathered around the table.

Russ went over the mission details, pointing out entry points, expected resistance and their plan of attack. “Our objective is to capture Salazar. End of story. They want him alive. So we do what we have to. We’re not looking to take anybody else in, and we do what we have to do to grab him and get him out of there. Horizon will handle clean-up, we just do our job and get the hell out.”

The team listened as he outlined the mission in a little more detail. “Salazar is a big dog in the cartel we’ve been targeting for the last year. He bought this little Texas hideaway to meet up with his mistress on the sly, and the intel is that he doesn’t normally bring too many men with him, likes to keep it on the down low. Horizon wants Salazar first, and DEA can have him when they’re done.”

After a couple of quiet questions and discussion, they separated to gear up. Andi pulled her vest from her bag and strapped it on, her eyes straying to Russ as he was doing the same. He hadn’t even looked at her since their first altercation, and she clenched her teeth with a sigh, forcing her emotions down as she finished getting ready. She’d fight with him later.

They loaded up into two jeeps, Andi crawling in the back of the one Russ was driving with Sweets in the passenger seat. It was a long, quiet drive, about 45 minutes to their destination, everyone tense and silent. Finally, Russ stated, “We’re about 5 minutes out,” and Andi steeled herself, focusing on the job ahead.

“Hey, Sweets – I don’t suppose…” she started, and he turned to her with a grin, reaching into a pocket and handing her a stick of her favorite cinnamon gum. “You never let me down, Sweets,” she smiled, and he nodded.

“I got your back, girl.”

Russ pulled the Jeep to a halt, putting it in park and shutting off the lights. “Okay, we’re on foot from here,” he said as the other vehicle pulled in behind him. They all piled out, Russ giving orders in a clear, quiet voice. “Sweets, you and Andi take the back, Seeger and I go in the front. Conner, you watch the perimeter. Everybody’s coms are good?” Everyone nodded. “Okay, let’s get this son of a bitch.”

The group moved almost silently, finally emerging through the trees on the south side of the large lake house. Russ moved in close to Andi, leaning to speak softly in her ear. “Be careful.”

“Always am,” she reassured him, then headed off with Sweets to the back of the house towards the lake.

Several minutes later all hell broke loose. Salazar hadn’t been meeting his mistress at the lake house this time around. He was meeting with his next-in-command, seven of them, and things got ugly.

Russell came into the hallway with Salazar in tow, held between him and Seeger, a bag over the prisoner’s head. Russ was swiping blood out of his eyes from a cut on his forehead, the result of an unfortunate meeting with the butt of a rifle. Three men lay dead or incapacitated behind them, and Seeger raised his gun to take out a fourth as they pushed towards the front door.

Sweets and Andi finished off a couple more men before rushing out the back door and heading around the building, guns at the ready in case any more cartel goons showed up. Her eyes had just landed on Russ’s bleeding face when a shot rang out from a nearby window, and she hit the ground hard. “Andi!” Sweets shouted, firing a shot at their assailant, and Russ stopped in his tracks, his eyes wide as he turned to look.

She raised her hand, groaning in pain, forcing out the words. “M’okay – hit my vest.”

“She’s okay!” Sweets called out, and Russ felt his heart start beating again.

“Conner! You and Seeger get him to the Jeep and let’s get the fuck out of here!” Russ ordered, heading to help Sweets get Andi to her feet. “Goddammit, Andi – can you walk?” he asked, and she nodded, wincing in pain, glad for their assistance as they hurried away from the house. They made it back through the trees and to the Jeeps, Seeger and Conner already backing out with Salazar tied down in the back seat. “Sweets, drive.”

He nodded and climbed behind the wheel, and Russ helped Andi into the back seat, sliding in beside her. “Sure you’re okay?” he asked as they pulled out, and she nodded, still grimacing in pain.

“Fuck, that hurts,” she managed, and he looked down, his frown deepening.

“If your vest took the hit, why are you bleeding?” He worked at the fastenings on her vest, clenching his teeth at her grunt of pain as she helped him remove it. The shoulder of her shirt was dark with blood, and Russ pulled out his knife, slicing from the sleeve to the neck of her shirt, pulling the front down and leaning over her so he could see her injury. She looked down, squeezing her eyes shut as he turned on the overhead light. There was a large splinter of wood embedded deep in her shoulder, right below her collarbone. “Must have caught a ricochet. Shit.”

“Didn’t even feel it until now.”

“We’ll take care of that when we get back to the cabin,” he said, shutting the light off again, putting an arm around her and letting her lean into his side. He pulled the corner of his jacket up and wiped at the blood on his forehead, then let his head drop back against the seat with a shaky sigh. Too close. Too fucking close.

When they finally got back to the cabin, Russ helped Andi get out and turned to Sweets. “You three mount up and take Salazar in, get him locked down. And if you see Ann, you can tell her we’re gonna have a talk about the quality of their intel,” he growled.

The big man nodded, then looked hard at Andi. “I’m good, Sweets. Promise.” He gave her good shoulder a squeeze, then left them to climb into the other Jeep beside their hooded captive. Andi watched them pull away, then turned towards the cabin, ready to get off her feet and find some whiskey.

“Yeah, let’s get you inside, I need to check you out,” Russell said, and she shot him a brave attempt at a smile.

“Always the sweet talker.”

They entered the cabin, and she sank down on the edge of the old sofa, trying like hell not to groan in pain. Russ was already digging through the cabinet for the medical supplies, coming back with a med kit and then heading to the bathroom for a stack of towels. Next was the almost-full bottle of whiskey that sat on the table, and Andi grabbed it from his hand, taking off the lid and lifting it to her lips, taking several swallows.

“Easy, there, hardcore,” Russell said, gently taking the bottle from her. “Need some of that for – uh – medicinal purposes.”

“That’s what I was using it for.” She looked down as he examined the chunk of wood in her shoulder. “Can you get it out?”

“Yeah, it looks pretty solid. Just didn’t want it falling apart, leaving pieces in there to get infected.” His eyes searched hers for a moment before she looked away and nodded.

“Okay, let’s do this. You need some stitches.”

“I’m fine, let’s get this done first. This is gonna have to go.” He took his knife and sliced through the strap to her grey sport bra, pushing the fabric out of the way. His jaw worked as he contemplated the best approach, finally taking out his multi-tool and readying the pliers as Andi grabbed one of the clean towels. “Okay, hold on.” He got a good grip on the wood and pulled, fast and smooth, sending a fresh rush of blood to soak into what was left of Andi’s clothes. She held the towel to the wound, wincing as she put pressure on it. Russ laid the huge splinter aside and looked down at her, dreading what was coming next. “Okay, now comes the fun part.”

She nodded, laying down on the sofa and letting Russell tuck towels around her shoulder. He grabbed the whiskey, reaching out for her to take hold of his left hand. “Ready?” She squeezed his hand in answer, and he poured whiskey into the wound, clenching his teeth as her back arched up in pain, uncontrollable whimpers escaping her lips as she gripped his hand so hard he felt the bones creak. Slowly, she eased back down, her chest heaving as she regained control. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, watching a tear escape the corner of her eye.

“I know – not your fault.” Russ gave her a couple more minutes to recover, then helped her sit up.

“I think we should do a couple of stitches.” She agreed, and he pulled a chair up close, taking care of the stitches quickly with a practiced hand.

She watched his face as he finished bandaging her shoulder, meeting his eyes when he finally looked up. “Thank you, Russ.”

“Yeah, any time. Let’s just not do it again, okay?” He put a hand to her face, his thumb stroking over her cheekbone. She smiled softly, dropping her gaze, and he pulled his hand back. “So – got a clean shirt in your bag?” She nodded, and he stood up, pushing the chair back and reaching for her duffle.

She winced as she tried to remove her ruined shirt, and Russell shook his head. “Here, let me help.” He pulled the bloodied shirt over her head, then slipped a finger under the remaining strap of her bra. “Want this off, too?”

Andi nodded. “Yeah, it’s ruined, anyway.” Russ reached around behind her, his brows bunching with an impatient frown.

“Who invented these fucking things? How the hell are you supposed to get this off?” he grumped, and Andi smiled.

“Just hand me your knife,” she said, taking it from him and slicing through the fabric, letting him help her slip it over her good shoulder and off. He tossed it disdainfully across the room, then turned, his eyes going directly to the large bruise blooming in the middle of her chest and spreading up the inside slope of both breasts.

“Goddammit, Andi,” he swore quietly.

“You’ve gotta stop swearing at me, Russ,” she teased, but he didn’t smile.

“Swearing is caring.”

“That is not how that saying goes.”

“It is for me. When it involves you. What if he would’ve missed your vest? Or had armor-piercing rounds?”

“He didn’t. And I thought we didn’t ‘what if’ after missions. That was always the rule.”

He finally looked up at her, his jaw working a little before he spoke. “You never came that close to being killed before. And you never should have been there, Andi. You should have been safe at home, not in the line of fire.”

Andi rolled her eyes, her temper flaring. “What about all the jobs you do that I don’t even know about? I hardly ever hear from you, Russ. A text here and there, or a random late-night phone call - other than that I’m in the dark all the time. I never know when you’re going on a mission, or if you’re hurt, or dead. I have that hanging over my head every damn day, but you can’t handle one job where you actually got to see the outcome in person, where you got to verify that I’m okay?” The silence still rang with her anger for a few seconds before he answered.

He sighed, guilt in his eyes as he looked away. “I know. I’m sorry. I’ll try to do better.”

Andi nodded, skepticism clear on her face. “Heard that before.” She closed her eyes for a second, then pulled her clean shirt over her head, letting him help her get the injured arm in the sleeve. “How about we don’t do this right now?”

Russell bit at the inside of his lip, then nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”

Andi rose to her feet, gesturing towards the chair. “Okay, your turn. Sit,” she ordered.

“Kinda bossy when you’re in pain,” Russell grumbled, plopping down on the seat. She ignored him, going to the bathroom and letting the water run until it was warm to wet a washcloth. She grabbed the med kit and set it on the table, then put a hand on top of his head and tilted it back a bit.

“Gotta clean you up a little before we do stitches.” He was drenched in sweat and blood, but – fuck it all – he’d never looked hotter. Those damn gorgeous green eyes of his were staring up at her with a look she couldn’t handle at the moment, so she avoided looking into them as she gently cleaned his face and down his neck where the blood had run down onto his shirt. “You should just take this off. It’s a mess.”

He stripped out of his shirt and she took it from him, dropping it to the table along with the now-filthy washcloth. “How many?” he asked.

Andi tilted her head, examining the cut carefully with one hand. “I think we can get by with four.” He nodded, and she turned to ready the needle.

She turned back to him, pausing for a moment before saying, “Okay, easiest way to do this is…” She straddled his lap, looking into his eyes. “Ready?”

“Yep, go for it,” he answered, his voice low and subdued. He let out a little hiss as the needle first went in, then settled, letting his hands rest on her hips. She took her bottom lip between her teeth as she started the second stitch, and he let out a quiet moan.

“Sorry,” she whispered.

“Not why... never mind.”

She had finished off the second stitch and was getting ready for the third when he leaned up and nestled his face into her neck. He placed a slow, lingering kiss just below her ear, his breath warm against her skin, and she closed her eyes for a moment, trying to ignore the flush of heat through her body. “You’re making this kinda hard.”

“You’re makin’ it hard, honey,” he said, his voice raspy with want, and Andi dropped her head back with a soft laugh.

“Can you please just be good for a couple more minutes?”

“I can be good for a couple of minutes – after that I’m gonna be great,” he mumbled, still nuzzling at her neck, and she shook her head with a wry smile as he went on, his tone very persuasive. “I’m not bleeding anymore, can’t we just finish this later?”

She sighed in frustration at him, even though she couldn’t keep the smile from teasing at her lips. “No. We need to finish this now. Sit up and behave.”

His hands were smoothing over her hips, giving a little squeeze here and there, but she managed to finally put in the last two stitches, tying off the last one and turning to drop the needle to the table.

As she turned back, he slipped a hand behind her neck and pulled her in for a scorching kiss. She fought it for a moment, her anger still stinging a little, but damn it – she never could resist him. He hummed in approval as she responded, his hands slipping under the hem of her shirt. “Can we take this back off?” he asked softly, and she looked into his eyes with a doubtful expression.

“We can, but – it’s so ugly.”

Russ shook his head as he helped her remove her shirt. “No, it’s not ugly. It’s a message. It’s saying, “Fuck you, asshole! You tried to kill me, but I’m still here – and I’ve got a fabulous pair of tits.” A slow grin curved his lips as Andi laughed in spite of herself, and he leaned in to kiss her again, one hand sliding up to gently cradle her breast in his hand, thumb brushing over her nipple. She shivered, her hands roaming up his sides and around to explore the muscled expanse of his back. He nudged his nose against hers, watching her eyes flutter closed as he teased at her, leaning close to whisper, “Bed?”

She opened her eyes and shook her head. “I wanna ride.”

He scraped his teeth over his plump bottom lip and smirked. “Whatever you want, honey.”

She pushed back and rose to her feet, letting him stand up as well as they both shed the rest of their clothes, kicking their boots to the side and out of their way. Russ sat back down, eyes glowing as he watched Andi move close again, reaching his hand between her thighs and groaning as he slipped two fingers up into her silky heat. She pushed down until he was knuckle-deep, lips parting as she let out a shuddering breath. She whispered his name as he stroked his fingers over her sweet spot, her legs beginning to tremble. “Need you now,” she managed, and he pulled his hand back, holding his cock steady as she slowly took him in, hands braced on his shoulders.

“So good,” he groaned as she settled fully on his lap, then leaned forward to kiss him hungrily. His hands wandered over her body, caressing and kneading at her warm skin, his hips rising to meet her as she began to move on top of him.

He loved nothing more than to watch her when she was like this, her body smooth and sinuous as she rode him. She was getting close, and he slipped his fingers down between them to rub her clit, moaning along with her as she squeezed hard around his cock. He wasn’t going to last much longer, either, and he began thrusting his hips, driving in hard and deep, his other hand gripping her hip for leverage.

She went off like a skyrocket, gasping and then crying out as she came, and he didn’t even try to hold back, joining her with a long, low growl. She rode it out, seemingly forever, finally collapsing with a hard shudder into his arms, her head resting on his shoulder. They sat there, his arms wrapped around her, for several minutes before she lifted her head, and he captured her lips beneath his for a slow, gentle kiss. He looked into her eyes, a playful sparkle in his. “Goddammit, Andi.”

She tried in vain to completely smother a smile, but it tugged at the corners of her mouth. “What am I gonna do with you?”

Russell’s smile faded slowly, and he leaned his forehead against hers. “I don’t know. But – just don’t give up on me, okay? Don’t you ever give up on me.” She pulled away, putting both hands up to his face, bringing him in close, her whole soul in their kiss, leaving him stunned and speechless for a moment.

“So – where are you off to next?” she asked softly, letting one hand drop to his shoulder as the fingers of the other combed through his beard.

He shrugged, pursing his lips thoughtfully. “Not sure. Haven’t heard anything about a new gig, so…”

She ducked her head down, peering up at him until he met her gaze again. “Well, I took the rest of this week off, so I don’t have to be back at work until Monday.”

He quirked an eyebrow at her, a smile slowly lighting his face. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, I didn’t know how long this job was gonna take. So – how about spending some time at my place? I have real food, and beer, and a shower with actual water pressure,” she said, tracing his bottom lip with her fingertip, “and really soft sheets.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “You hittin’ on me?”

She laughed. “Maybe.”

He grinned, kissing her and landing a playful little swat to her ass. “Well, then, let’s get the hell out of here.”

Tags for my lovelies: 

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[i-cant-sing]

‘Missing yandere President Kai x first lady asks, so send some’

Hear me out, yandere President kai goes missing.. We all know first lady’s exact location would be found in 10 minutes but no one really cares about kai that much so he’s in someone’s basement for a bit but what happens to the first lady? Does she become president, sent to an underground bunker to be kept safe because if the president can go missing she could too, Does AFO slide into her dm’s ‘hey ur husband went missing, need any comfort?’ or does someone snatch the country?

Of course!!! The moment news of Kai's kidnapping reaches the secret service, they are immediately dragging you and the teletubbies down to an underground safehouse, locking down the entire Presidential House and delay telling you about the kidnapping for as long as possible.

Oh and by the way, you're still very pregnant, and when you finally snap at them to tell you what the hell is going on, they sit you down on the big table with all the generals and higher officials and tell you-

"Madam, the President has been kidnapped." The head of Kai's security tells you.

"What? What do you mean kidnapped? Where is he?!" You ask all of them.

Kai's chief of Staff, Hari Kurono cleared his throat as he showed you the footage of his car. "The president had left in his car last night alone, without his security detail. He turned around this corner and that's where he found his car. The security footage around this corner has been erased and there are currently no leads on who has taken him or where."

"How could you have let him go alone? He's the president for fuck's sake, he has enemies!"

"He insisted, madam. We advised him strong ly against it, but he said that he ordered us not to follow him."

"Why did he leave? Did he say where he was going?"

Hari shook his head. "He didn't say much, just that he had some business to handle and that he needed to do it alone. He- he looked distressed and he left in a hurry."

You closed your eyes and covered your face with your hands before looking back at them. "Alright, okay. Okay, let's deal with this. What are our options right now? Has the kidnapper contacted us?"

"No, madam. We have been looking at all suspected individuals, our Intel is currently searching for potential enemies in neighbouring countries, but we have no leads. We are trying to keep this news from tye public for as long as possible but we don't have much time left until media breaks this news. So now we have to- we have to think of our next step in case..."

The room fell silent as they all hesitated to meet your eyes.

"What? What is it?"

Hari cleared his throat. "Madam, if President Kai is not found in the next 48 hours, we will have to appoint another president- temporarily until the situation is handled."

You narrowed your eyes. You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Are they going to give up on Kai that easily? After all he's done for his party? They're gonna betray him?

"And I suppose you already have a candidate in mind?" He nodded. "Well, go on. Who is it?"

"You, ma'am."

Wait what?

"What?" You whispered.

The attorney general decided to speak this time. "We think you're the best candidate for the job, ma'am. We are trying our best to locate Mr President, but we need to consider all our options if things do go south."

"The country cant run without a president, maam. You would be perfect for the job- the party agrees, the public already loves you, and whatever concerns you have about your job, well help you! All of us!" Miruko, your publicist offered.

"I see." You pursed your lips. "Is that all?"

You took their silence as an answer.

"So... you're telling me that the best plan you've come up so far is to replace my husband with me?" Your voice barely conceal your rage, and you slammed your hand on the mahogany table.

"HAVE YOU ALL LOST YOUR MINDS?!" You yelled.

"Ma'am-"

"No, shut up!" You barked. "It was your job to protect him! And now that you can't find him, you want me to just sit in his fucking chair and act like everything is normal because you guys fucked up?!"

You stood up, groaning as you suppoted your belly from under. "Here's what's gonna happen. There will be no talk of a new president until you find my husband, dead or alive, but you will find him. I don't care what you have to do, what rules you have to break, you will find him. Look under the sewers, check every suspicious building, search every corner of this country, but FIND. MY. HUSBAND!" You shrieked, hunching over as you felt your baby kick.

Miruko and Hari came close to you but you held up a hand. "Ma'am, let us help-"

"If you really want to help me, find Kai. Do I make myself clear?" You questioned.

-

You were sitting on the couch, rubbing your belly as you tried to calm down your baby... and yourself.

You were still livid at the proposal of the team. How could they just- how could they give up on Kai like that? And then expect you to take his place?

If it were you who was kidnapped, would they have offered Kai to get a new wife because their is now a vacancy for First Lady?

You closed your eyes and sighed. Kai would've never allowed them to give up on you like that. In fact, that one time that you were kidnapped by a deranged fan, Kai worked day and night, turned the whole country upside down until you were found. He didn't care about his image, he didn't care that he would look "weak" for caring about you, he didn't care when he advised against making threats to all his enemies to find you, and he did not listen to anyone when he went down to meet your kidnapper himself and beat the shit out of him to find you.

Kai found you within 18 hours.

"Mom?" You opened your eyes and saw your triplets standing by the door looking worried.

"Hey, my babies. Come here." You beckoned them. They ran upto you, hugging your lap. "What's wrong?"

"Are you okay?" Dabi asked. You nodded. "Mmhmm, your sibling is just excited to meet you guys. They're jumping up and down inside me."

"Where's dad?" Himiko asked. "He's... out, baby. But he's gonna be back soon." You patted their heads. "Its time for bed. Do you guys wanna sleep with mama tonight?" They all cheered.

-

"What's the update, Hari?" And you already knew the answer from the grim look on his face.

"We haven't been able to locate Mr President. I'm sorry, ma'am."

You pinched the nose of your bride. It's been 3 days. 3 fucking days since Kai has been kidnapped.

"Did the kidnappers contact us?" He shook his head.

"What if I talked to the kidnappers?" You offered.

Hari gave you a quizzical look. "Um- what do you mean?"

"What if we broadcast me talking to the kidnappers directly? I ask them what their demands are, tell them to return my husband?"

He shook his head. "Ma'am, I would highly advise you against that. You can't be talking to the kidnappers, we can't negotiate with them. It's not sensible to do that-"

"They could kill him, Hari. Nothing about this situation is sensible."

Hari sighed. "Okay, how about this? We can do a broadcast from the Presidential office on your behalf, instead of you-"

"No" You cut him off. "It has to be from me. Don't you get it? They won't respond unless it's from me directly. And who knows, maybe someone else has seen these kidnappers, maybe they can give us some leads to their whereabouts. Someone must've seen them, Hari. It's just not- it's not possible for a man to to vanish into thin air!"

"Ma'am I-"

"Ma'am?" Rumi walked in. "There's a phone call for you."

-

You picked up your cell. "Hello?"

"Hello, darling." You immeadiately recognised the voice.

AFO. Or Shigaraki.

"What do you want?"

"Aww, is someone having a bad day? Well, you could always come to my place for a good ti-" He stopped when he heard you sob. "Y/n? What's wrong? Come on, tell me."

You sobbed again. "Kai... he's been kidnapped." You whispered into the phone. "He's been missing for 3 days. They can't find him anywhere, they don't even know who took him. It's like- he dropped off the face of the Earth."

"Oh darling, it's- everything will be okay. I'm sure Kai is alright. He'll turn up-"

"He's the president, AFO! He can't just go missing and turn up like this! He's in trouble and I can't- they want me to replace him as the president but im still pregnant and the kids keep on asking me about him and I keep lying to them but- I can't do it- I can't! Not without him!"You broke down and it broke his heart to see you cry like this, especially over that piece of shit you call your husband.

"Okay, Y/n. Calm down, come on. Its not good for your baby. Take deep breaths- just like that." He guided you with your breathing so that you dont have a panic attack, which is totally not safe in your condition.

"Shigaraki?" You sniffled.

"Yes, darling?"

"I know its a big favour to ask..." "Go on." "... can you... can you find Kai? Please, I just- I need to see him. I need him here!"

"Y/n-" "Please, Shigaraki. I'll do anything you ask, just find Kai!"

There was silence on the other end for a few seconds.

"Okay. I'll find him."

-

AFO already knew where Kai was. In fact, he was indirectly helping the kidnapper, who was actually another deranged fan of yours, by covering up his tracks. AFO made sure that someone wiped the camera tapes clean. The fan kidnapped Kai because apparently he had some information on how Kai was a threat to you. And anyone who wants to hurt you... well, AFO would like to take care of it before anything ever happens.

He didnt plan on interferring with the hostage situation this early on, actually he didnt even plan on saving Kai at all, but you asked him to... and AFO would always give you whatever you ask.

Besides saving Kai himself would actually be killing two birds with one stone- he would be on your good side and Kai will owe him one too.

So within 3 hours, AFO had sent his men to take out your kidnapper and return Kai to you in one piece, minus the few minor injuries. And concussion.

But the universe must've felt extra benevolent that day because his men brought him a document that made AFO feel like he just hit the jackpot.

Its the document containing the legal paperwork with the "added" clause about how every penny gives you, spends on you and your kids, you will have to return him back with a huge amount of interest in order for you to divorce him at the end of his term. And since you're not even aware of this clause, you would be in his debt and thus, unable to divorce him.

The kidnapper was someone who worked for you, and he must've found these documents, and felt betrayed on your behalf. He must've been concerned for your safety, so he used them to blackmail Kai and get rid of him for good.

AFO chuckled as he made a copy of the document. Should he show them to you when you come to visit, or should he first use them to toy with Kai a little?

Nevertheless, AFO has a feeling he will have you back in his arms sooner than he expected.

[warrioreowynofrohan]

LOTR Newsletter - September 21

Today's reading is very short, a single brief sentence, but the appendices of LOTR and "The Hunt for the Ring" in Unfinished Tales have more context on what is going on in the wider world.

The appendices tell us that Gandalf is still in Rohan attempting to tame Shadowfax.

The the same time, the Ringwraiths ride north from Isengard to the Shire. Saruman's deception of them is very short-lived, as they learn that that he did not just find out the location of the Shire from Gandalf, as he claimed, but has known it for a very long time.

But first, some context about Saruman's dealings with the Shire. Another interesting part of this section is that it shows that the Bracegirdle's (Lobelia's family; that's her maiden name) and the Sackville-Bagginses are already commercially involved with Saruman. It somewhat evokes a mercantile imperialism, where a foreign power gains local allies and clients because it purchases build of their wealth, and uses that as a foundation for intel and political power. His arrival in the Shire after the War of the Ring thus does not come out of nowhere, but builds on existing ties and existing power - the "ruffians" are available for him to use as a paramilitary force because they had already been being used that way by Lotho, but were always Saruman's people.

Saruman had long taken an interest in the Shire – because Gandalf did, and he was suspicious of him; and because (again in secret imitation of Gandalf) he had taken to the ‘Halflings’ leaf’ and needed supplies, but in pride (having once scoffed at Gandalf’s use of the weed) kept this as secret as he could. Latterly other motives were added. He liked to extend his power, especially into Gandalf’s province, and he found that the money he could provide for the purchase of ‘leaf’ was giving him power, and was corrupting some of the hobbits, especially the Bracegirdles, who owned many plantations, and so also the Sackville-Bagginses. But also he had begun to feel certain that in some way the Shire was connected with the Ring in Gandalf’s mind. Why this strong guard upon it? He therefore began to collect detailed information about the Shire, its chief persons and families, its roads, and other matters. For this he used Hobbits within the Shire, in the pay of the Bracegirdles and the Sackville-Bagginses, but his agents were Men, of Dunlendish origin. When Gandalf had refused to treat with him Saruman had redoubled his efforts. The Rangers were suspicious, but did not actually refuse entry to the servants of Saruman – for Gandalf was not at liberty to warn them, and when he had gone off to Isengard Saruman was still recognized as an ally.

So, Saruman already has agents going back and forth between Rivendell and the Shire. The Ringwraiths overtake one of those agents.

When the Black Riders were far across Enedwaith and drawing near at last to Tharbad, they had what was for then a great stroke of good fortune, but disastrous for Saruman, and deadly perilous for Frodo. Some while ago one of Saruman’s most trusted servants (yet a ruffianly fellow, an outlaw driven from Dunland, where many said that he had Orc-blood) had returned from the borders of the Shire, where he had been negotiating for the purchase of ‘leaf’ and other supplies. Saruman was beginning to store Isengard against war. This man was now on his way back to continue the business, and to arrange for the transport of many goods before autumn failed. [Footnote: The usual way was by the crossing of Tharbad to Dunland (rather than direct to Isengard), whence goods were sent more secretly to Saruman.] He had orders also to get into the Shire if possible and learn if there had been any departures of persons well-known recently. He was well supplied with maps, lists of names, and notes concerning the Shire. This Dunlending was overtaken by several of the Black Riders as they approached the Tharbad crossing. In an extremity of terror he was haled to the Witch-king and questioned. He saved his life by betraying Saruman. The Witch-king thus learned that Saruman knew well all along where the Shire was, and knew much about it, which he could and should have told to Sauron’s servants if he had been a true ally. The Witch-king also obtained much information, including some about the only name that interested him: Baggins.  It was for this reason that Hobbiton was singled out as one of the points for immediate visit and enquiry. The Witch-king had now a clearer understanding of the matter. He had known something of the country long ago, in his wars with the Dúnedain, and especially of the Tyrn Gorthad of Cardolan, now the Barrow-downs, whose evil wights had been sent there by himself. Seeing that his Master suspected some move between the Shire and Rivendell, he saw also that Bree (the position of which he knew) would be an important point, at least for information. [Note from Christopher Tolkien: Since the Black Captain knew so much, it is perhaps strange that the had so little idea of where the Shire, the land of the Halflings, lay; according to the Tale of Years there were already Hobbits settled in Bree at the beginning of the Third Age, when the Witch-king came north to Angmar.] He put therefore the Shadow of Fear on the Dunlending, and sent him to Bree as an agent. He was the squint-eyed southerner at the Inn.

This clarifies a lot of the later events in the first half of The Fellowship of the Ring. The southerner at Bree who is staying with Bill Ferny doesn't have immediately obvious significance in the book. How could he be a spy of Sauron, when Sauron has only just learned the location the Shire and has no presence in northwest Middle-earth? But if he was a spy of Saruman, why would he be helping the Ringwraiths? This passage solves the mystery - and shows how much Tolkien had plotted out even events that are completely left out of the book - by placing him as an agent of Saruman who had been captured and subverted by the Ringwraiths. Which also explains how the Ringwraiths knew to go to Hobbiton in particular, and how they knew where Hobbiton was. And they also learned that Frodo Baggins was moving out of Hobbiton.

If LOTR was a TV show and we were seeing all this happening simultaneous, this would be an intensely suspenseful part of the show, with the Ringwraiths on their way north, knowing where Frodo is, and Frodo still waiting at Bag End for Gandalf and not knowing that there any immediate urgency.

[b33zlebubz]

RECKLESS ABANDON--------

CHAPTER TWO - an interrogation

TASK FORCE 141 X READER (PLATONIC)

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TAGS: gender neutral reader, angst, fluff, slow burn found family, PTSD, trauma bonding, kidnapping, reader is a foster kid in high school, family drama, blood, violence, guns

"After your life falls apart at the seams very early on, you work hard to keep the small amount of peace you still have. Foster care is rough, work is draining, school is a drag...but you eventually find yourself in a good place. All of that quickly goes to waste, however, when your family's unfinished business finally finds its way back to you."

"You've got the wrong person."

"I can assure you we don't."

"Then what the fuck did I do?"

Price sits back in his chair with his arms crossed, staring out the one-sided mirror that separates him from the interrogation taking place.  The room is dark save for the mirror, the laptop in front of him, and the red-yellow embers of his third cigar in the span of an hour.  He fidgets uselessly with it, rolling the paper between the fingers in his right hand while the other clutches a pair of dog tags.  The metal feels twice as cold in his palm as he listens to the two people in the room in front of him.

Laswell looks tired—typically perfect hair beginning to fall from her bun and the bags under her eyes deeper than usual.  He doesn’t doubt he looks the same, if not worse.  Despite the majority of the day dead and gone, the only thing they have to show for the amount of time spent in this room is a quickly filling tray of cigarette ashes and a messy desk of conflicting files, open laptops, and empty mugs of both tea and coffee.

"Nothing.  We just have some questions regarding your birth family."

You chuckle bitterly, your voice strained from the day's events even through the intercom.  "You had me kidnapped and nearly killed for a couple of questions?"  

Laswell's mouth opens and then snaps shut again. 

Price flips the dog tags through his fingers like the world’s most unlucky coin.

"This isn't an interrogation,"  she eventually responds.  "We’re trying to help you.”

“Then why am I in an interrogation room?”

He thinks its hard to find anything surprising, nowadays.  Price thought he saw pretty much everything there was to see already.  He’s traveled the world, faced every obstacle with bared teeth and clenched fists.  He’s seen death in all its forms, he’s seen someone come back from death—and yet, this was a new problem.  One he hadn’t encountered before.  A mission he, for once, didn’t know how to approach. 

He sighs, leaning forwards to rest his elbows on his knees as he watches Laswell shuffle through papers.  This is usually what the chief specialized in—getting intel—but it appears even she's left flustered and clueless with how to handle the iron will of a shell-shocked teenager.

You’re sitting in a similar position as Price himself as you sit across from Laswell; a too-big S.A.S. sweater on your shoulders paired with sweatpants of a similar fit, your previous clothes ruined with blood.  Eyes downcast, hands clasped and shaking; Price can’t imagine the things running through your head.  He felt even worse that they didn’t have spare shoes, leaving you in your untied sneakers stained red-brown with the blood from earlier that day.  

You’re lost in thought.  You try to focus on what Laswell says, but her questions seem to go in one ear and then back out the other if you don't snap with a sarcastic comeback.  Laswell swallows heavily, much more used to this routine involving adults with war crime lists as long as the very building is tall.  She’s being gentle—well, as gentle as she can manage given your sharp tongue—but you haven’t given them any answers since you showed up.

You're scared.  You want answers.  Anyone in your situation would be the same.

So, after a few more minutes of talking and getting nowhere, Laswell stands.  She spares you one last, sympathetic look before crossing the room to the door—where she leaves the room in favor of the small office Price resides in.  A long breath leaves her as she stops at the table, lifting her arms and then letting them fall back to her sides in defeat.

“Nothing,”  she breathes.

Price nods.  He takes another drag of his cigar and exhales the smoke in a heavy sigh.

“Figures,”  he says, leaning over to snuff the embers out in the dish.  “Simon scared ‘em shitless.”

Laswell scoffs.  Shaking her head, she drops the file on the desk with a slap before sitting down herself—rubbing her tired face.  Her gaze falls to you sitting alone in the room, her brow furrowed tight.  In all his years of working with her, Price doubts he’s seen someone get under her skin like this in a long time.  

“We can’t wait for answers—not with the news spreading like this.”

He hums.  “You’re right.  We can’t.”

“Then what do you suggest we do?”  She asks, genuinely.  “Because this isn’t working.  The kid's not talking until we tell them what's going on."

Price is silent for a moment.  None of the team had expected anyone else to catch wind of your location so quickly—nor had they expected such an organization like the Shadow Company to get involved.  What was supposed to be a silent search-and-rescue mission turned into something more of an ambush.  Something Price knows Graves will eventually seek repercussions for.

He feels his stomach twist from the thought, but he shakes it from his head.  Right now, proving to you that you weren’t in any danger was his priority.  The sooner you felt safe, the sooner you would answer questions—the sooner Price could formulate some semblance of a plan going forwards.

He pushes himself to his feet.  “Then we'll just have to give 'em what they want."

Laswell sighs, “John—”

“We owe the kid answers, Kate,”  He insists.  "We have for a long time.  Far too long."

“And if Graves or someone worse gets to them?  What happens then…when they give up intel?”  Laswell argues.   “We’ll just have to keep them until they’re ready to give up answers.  It’s the only way to make sure we don’t get compromised if shit hits the fan again.”

Price’s brow furrows.  He looks back out into the interrogation room for a moment, at how you stare down at the table wiping your bruised face on your sleeves.  Laswell is right, of course—she usually is.  If you gave up sensitive information to save your own skin after everything you’ve been through, nobody would blame you.  It could ruin everything, and it would be his fault, but that’s a risk he’s willing to take.  

He turns to Laswell again, his voice low as he steps closer. Palms flat on the desk, he leans down to her level.  “Then we’ll just have to make sure that doesn’t happen, yeah?”

Laswell just stares at him for a second, her gaze hard in calm resolve.  She seems to consider his preposition, carefully weighing the pros and cons as she searches Price’s gaze for any hint of self-doubt.  As usual, she finds none.

She sighs again, shakes her head, and reaches for the pack of cigarettes on the table.

"Fifteen minutes, Captain."  She says, resolute, as she lights a cigarette between her teeth.  "That's all you get."

Fifteen minutes.  He’s saved lives with less, but yet he still finds himself taking a nervous breath as he grasps the doorknob anyway.  Up until this point he hasn't officially met you.  In a perfect world, he probably never would have needed to.

He swallows the lump in his throat and opens the door.

Immediately, your eyes dart up to meet his.  Your expression is a tangled mess of things.  Fear, maybe.  Anger, definitely.  There’s sadness and anxiety in there, too, as Price meets your gaze for a moment before padding inside.  He makes a point to leave the door open behind him as he walks forwards, pulls the chair out, and sits down with his hands on the table.  Your legs are pulled up to your chest now; arms hugging your knees as you stare up at him—defensive.

Like you're a cornered animal ready to bite.  

You are, but that's besides the point.

He regards you for a moment, attempting to look past how you have your father’s eyes—bright and focussed and unrelenting underneath the deep, puffy bruise on your left eyelid.  The wound looks old, at least by a few hours, so he knows it wasn’t caused by any of his men.  Even the Shadows wouldn’t swoop so low as to hurt you without reason.

"Nice eye,"  is all he says.

Immediately, you look away, suddenly self-conscious as you wipe at the aching, bruised flesh.  It hurts, that’s for sure, but you do a good job at hiding it.

"The other guy looked worse,"  you lie.

"A soldier?"

"No…"  you clear your throat and shift, your shoulders easing just a little from exhaustion.  "No.  Some kid.  Long story.”

"Ah,"  he chuckles a little, as if you aren't sitting across from him with your hands still stained in some dead guy's blood.  "Somehow, I don't doubt that."

"Who are you?"

Hm.  The dreaded question.  For a second, Price debates how much he should tell you—and he knows Laswell is holding her breath hoping he'll hold his tongue, but you deserve answers.  It's the least he could do.

The dog tags feel like they were burning a hole in his pocket.

"Captain John Price.  British Special Air Service."  He answers through a sigh as he sits back in his chair.  "But you can just call me Price."

That furrow in your brow loosens just a little.  Slowly, you remove your arms from around yourself, letting your shoes hit the linoleum flooring.  Maybe you recognized his name somehow, or maybe you’re just relieved to be talked to like a human and not a cornered animal—but you’re more relaxed than you have been that whole day.

"And the woman?"  You press.

"A friend,"  Price answers honestly.  "She helped us find you.  You can trust her, too."

"And how do I know you're telling the truth?"

Price hesitates at that, glancing towards the one-sided mirror where he can feel Laswell watching.  Then, he reaches into his jeans pocket and pulls out the dogtags.  He tosses them over and they slide across the metal table before landing in your hands.  You turn the metal chips over in your palm, tracing the enamel with shaky hands.  When you look back up at Price, it's in disbelief.

They're your father's.

"To make a very long story short: over a year ago he had a mission,"  Price begins.  "Your old man was tasked with disarming a missile.  He succeeded, changed the code...and died before he could deliver it.  As of a month ago, it's been missing.”

It's a grossly summarized version of what happened over the course of the past year and a half, but Price figures he’ll spare you the details.  Details like how your father was tortured for months before he was finally killed while escaping.  Details like while he was stuck in enemy territory—you were all he would write about.  Your interests.  Your face.  Your words.

You're silent for a moment, squeezing the cold metal in your palms.  When you speak, it's quiet.

"That's a lie," you argue.  "Dad died when I was five. In Mexico."

Price nods.

“Maybe,” he says quietly.  “But, like his kid—he wouldn’t go down easy.”

You let out a breath, sitting back against the chair as you digest the information handed to you.  He watches dots string together in your mind as you mull over your whole life up until that very moment.  He knows what you’re thinking of already; not because he ever met the man personally, but because with the past few months he spent reading and rereading every letter, email, and assignment report—he feels like he did.  He knows you’re rethinking every letter your father sent you right up until his supposed “death" and every call promising his return soon.

He knows it’s a lot to take in, and that aching guilt in his chest rears its ugly head.  He wished he could do more—apologize on behalf of your father, reassure you things would be fine, take you back to your home…but, alas, all of those things were impossible.  So, instead, he’d answer whatever question you asked.

Because that was all he could do.

Almost a full minute passes before you speak again, quietly.  "And why, exactly, am I so important?"

"Because your father kept a journal,”  he answers promptly.  “In that journal, he said you knew the code.”

You laugh bitterly.  “It’s not like he was around to tell me—I don’t know shit.”

“I figured,”  he sighs, nodding.  “So, until we figure things out…you’re sticking with me and my men."

You bristle again, shoulders tensing.  "I never agreed to that."

"I never gave you the choice,"  John hardens his tone, not leaving any room for argument.  "It's what your father would've wanted.  Those were his last orders."

At that, you fall quiet; your face scrunched with frustrated anger and unshed tears as you look away to steel yourself.  John sighs and softens again.

"You’ll have a temporary room for the next few days.  Then, Friday; you, me, and my team are moving to a different base to plan and gather intel.  Everyone here answers to me, and if any of ‘em give you trouble—I’m never far away.”

He leans in close.

"I'm sorry, kid.  Really," he says, "but you can't go home."

Finally, you nod in understanding, your gaze falling to the table.  Lost in thought again, another long moment passes.  He watches as you look down at the dog tags before, hesitantly, lifting them up and over your neck.  They fall to rest at your chest as you clasp them before looking up at Price.  You won’t ask the question—won’t admit what you’re thinking—but he meets your gaze with calm resolve as he speaks again.

"You'll be safe here," he says. “Alright?”

You purse your lips, thinking.  John almost holds his breath, waiting for your response.  Conflicting emotions swim in your eyes as you squeeze the metal on your neck. 

He pretends not to notice the tears pricking your eyes as you swallow heavily and nod.

“Yeah…yes,”  you choke out.  “Not like I have anywhere to go, anyway."

After that, things go smoother.  There were supposed to be more tests—more questioning, interviewing, and other supposedly mandatory things that would get everyone nowhere.  Instead, Price decides to bypass all of it with Laswell’s permission.  The walk to your room is silent, and he assures you, again, that nothing will happen to you here.  He apologizes profusely, but he’s not sure you truly hear any of it—simply nodding and thanking him before the door is shut, and the halls are quiet.

Only then does he let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, slipping his hat off to run his hand back through his hair.  There’s paperwork he has to do, a briefing to attend to, and he still has yet to touch base with Soap and Ghost about what exactly happened earlier that day.  Despite it all, though—he feels somehow lighter.  Months of tracking down your father’s only family coming to a close now that you were found and safe.  Or, maybe, it was just because the dog tags were weighing him down.

Nevertheless, he barely spares himself a moment to recollect before his hat is placed back on his head, his expression is hardened again, and he finds himself walking back down the hallway—already itching for another cigar.

It was going to be a long fucking week.

@brokenpieces-72 @warenai