#it is not *savvy tactics* it's something that gets you up in front of the Hague is you then proceed to slaughter your enemies
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There's no Geneva Convention in Star Wars and that's good for our boy Obi Wan, who committed a bunch of war crimes.
“that character is a war criminal” that character is from a fictional fantasy world and did not attend the geneva convention
#star wars#star wars the clone wars#obi wan star wars#like he literally commits acts that would be war crimes on earth in the first Clone Wars movie#he congratulates Anakin on a similar strategy in the series#Fun Fact: False surrender is a whole war crime on Earth#it is not *savvy tactics* it's something that gets you up in front of the Hague is you then proceed to slaughter your enemies#it's one of the rules that ensures people don't just murder surrendering enemies
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Excuse the sudden yap but I know this is an ln4 safe space and I would like to see what other people think haha: Why why why whyyyyy of all 20 drivers on the grid did I have to immediately adopt the most cringefail loser (/aff) of them allllllll. Like Lando….. please…. the other kids are bulling me again cause you said something that was slightly more cringy than it should have been bro I cannot keep defending you /j Jokes aside I hope this season teaches a LOT to Lando and I’m excited to see what 2025 brings to both him and Oscar. And I also hope that indeed he learns that yes, you can be okay with someone outside the track bc him being so sad that Max was racing him like that was indeed kinda funny but also Lando…. Pls……. you’re racing of course he’s not going to be clean on the track he’s Max and you were awfully close in points 😭
The thing is... ok hear me out. I think Lando is actually a bit more intelligent and media savvy than people think he is. He obviously messes up when he's tired and upset, and says things without enough clarity that they can be misinterpreted in bad faith, but... I think the way he was presenting himself this season as the "novice front runner" and the "one who follows the rules of fair racing" was claiming a kind of moral high ground and sympathetic narrative position for journalists to use, as Max is already the "even if it's reckless and dirty all that matters is the result" guy. They talked past each other for months, each able to frame events in a way that was more flattering to their perspective without ever really directly fighting in the press. He fully expected Max's behavior on track, though reacting to it in the heat of the moment is a skill he is only now getting better at (Max is a living legend ok it's not easy to race him and people who think otherwise are just wrong)... I just think it was a bit more calculated to be vulnerable than people think it is. It was a choice and a tactic, and the way he tried to ward off criticism by openly admitting his faults may not work with a lot of people, they think it makes him weak, but it does change the narrative from "he's messed up" to "he's too honest about his self-doubt." I do also think his framing of their incidents was fairly successful at keeping the narrative loud around Max being Max and not entirely focused on Lando failing to deliver, as he was still learning and coming from an impossible deficit to even get close to catching up. People wanted him to suddenly become a Max clone, a results at all costs willing to shunt kind of driver... but that is a non starter because Lando simply is not Max. His path to a WDC will always come from teamwork and cleaner racing, if such a path exists, and Lando knows that. So viewing him through that lens, he is much less cringe to me. He's playing the hand he's dealt with as much grace as he can, even if it's doomed to failure and ridicule. He'll say it a million times... he's doing his best, one race at a time.
#lando norris#i am first and always a lando apologist lmao#i think i get his game#and it's more cunning than people assume#to be vulnerable and available... some might despise it#but i think there are times it works
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Glimmer 25/? Billy Butcher fic
Hello my loves! Some good news - I've been doing well with writing this past week! Billy has been so cooperative! ;) So lots more content coming. I also received an anonymous ask and I will work on that to the best of my ability as soon as I'm able! (I don't think I'm very good at asks but I do love to try so I'll do my best, dea reader!)
Thank you so so so much for still reading ♥ Please leave a comment if you're able!
Tag List: @2dead2function @secretdreamlandmentality
Billy Butcher Masterlist
Chapter 25
MM and Addison decided immediately that they would take the cunt in as soon as his friend left. Butcher probably would’ve stormed in on the spot, but Addison didn’t care for collateral damage.
Frenchie showed up 10 minutes later; it must’ve been him calling Butcher, and he went to sit in the front of the van with Butcher while Addi and MM stayed in the back.
Addison moved her chair to the side and took a deep breath, leaning back and closing her eyes, trying to recharge her energy. She felt like she was absolutely empty inside. She dropped her head back letting it thud against the metal side of the van. She wanted to search for Butcher’s heartbeat, and she finally gave in and let herself listen for one moment before she stopped again. It felt like some kind of invasion when he was angry with her.
What was she going to do?
The more Addi imagined being without him, the more she knew she couldn’t. But she couldn’t stop exploring her powers either. She wanted to be strong. She wanted to help people. She wanted to be able to protect herself and the people she loved. She knew her own heart, and she knew this was what she was meant to do.
The sound of the apartment door slamming over the speaker from inside startled her awake and she realized she must’ve been dozing. Fuck.
Addison forced herself to stand to get her blood flowing and MM pushed open the slat separating the front of the van from the back. “Five minutes,” he said shortly.
Addison pulled her tactical vest on - no sense in pissing Billy off even more right now - and checked her gun.
MM nodded at her and Billy swung the back door to the van open from outside, his duster billowing a bit behind him. “Let’s get that fucker,” Addison muttered as her and MM jumped out.
It was almost 3am and they were already parked next to the back alleyway, so it was easy to get in a back door undetected.
They made their way to his apartment in silence, Addison listening and checking each stairwell and hallway each time they came to a corner or door.
Frenchie knelt to pick the lock to the door, but Addison couldn’t shake the agitation simmering in her blood. The tension she could feel rolling off of Butcher didn’t help either. After a moment she took a breath and nudged Frenchie with her knee. She jerked her head for him to move back as if she had heard something from inside. But the second he leaned away she shifted and kicked her foot straight through the door knob, splintering the door open and knocking it half off its hinges. She didn’t turn around to watch the boys exchange looks.
A yelp came from inside when she kicked the door in and Addison zeroed straight in on the bastard, gun drawn. She found him in the bedroom, cowered on the floor, his eyes wide as he looked up when she entered.
“F - fuck…Addison…I -“
“Shut the fuck up, Andrews. Got bored waiting for you to get your shit together, so I decided to come to you.”
“Y-you know me?” he stuttered, his glasses sitting askew on his nose.
Addison narrowed her eyes. “You aren’t worth knowing. But yeah it catches my attention when someone tries to have me killed. Even losers like you.”
“I-I didn’t…I didn’t do any…”
Addison cocked her gun. “Tell me who you’re working for.”
“I don’t know!”
“Oi,” Butcher growled from behind her. “Cut off ‘is finger. We’ll chop ‘em one by one ‘til you remember. And after the fingers we’ll start pluckin’ your eyeballs out, savvy?” Addison didn’t have to look back to picture his wicked grin. He was in a dark mood.
MM stepped forward on cue, flipping his switch knife open.
“You can’t do that!” Andrews’ voice cracked.
“I guarantee you I can. I don’t give a fuck ‘bout any rules.” Butcher kept on merrily. “You wanna know how long I spent torturing cunts like you at gitmo? The stuff I got up to there.” He shook his head with a tsk . “Fuckin’ diabolical.”
“Please! P-please don’t torture me. I don’t know who he is o-okay! Some - some kind of business man. Rich. A-and and he said h-he had connections. He said he’d kill my parents.”
“He threatened you?” Addison asked. “He didn’t pay you?”
“Well…” he swallowed. “He paid me too but -”
Butcher growled, taking a heavy step toward him and he yelped again, but MM held his arm out. “You better start talking,” he warned.
Andrews nodded emphatically. “Okay, okay. At first he just wanted to kill her. Something q-quick. I think he thought it would be easy. He - paid me and said he needed information. At first he said,” he glanced toward Addison, “he said you were a criminal, and he was black ops to take you out. But after the attempt failed he-he decided he wanted something bigger. He went crazy. He stopped pretending it was professional and…and…when I said I wanted out that’s when he threatened…threatened…” he looked at Addison again. “And he said he wanted to watch you suffer.”
“Why her?” Billy growled, grabbing his collar. “Why Addison?”
“I don’t know! I don’t know! He didn’t tell me anything. Just, I know, something personal. He wanted to hurt her because of something someone did to him. That’s all I know!”
“Why don’t I believe ya, ya cunt,” Billy fisted his hand tighter on his shirt, hauling him up.
“He knows about the safe house,” Andrews spluttered.
“What else?”
“That’s it — I swear. His number’s always blocked.”
Butcher dropped him to the ground. “Secure ‘im,” he growled at Frenchie and MM and they pulled out their zip ties while Addison kept her gun trained on him.
“We’ll drag him in and bug his phone,” Billy picked up the guy’s cell from the nightstand, then turned, stalking out of the apartment, leaving Addison to call for a team to come pick the asshole up.
Light was just beginning to rim the horizon when Billy watched Addison finally make her way out of the building again. She paused on the sidewalk, watching Andrews being shoved into an unmarked car by the agent that had come to pick him up before she turned and caught sight of Billy.
He was next to the van, another cigarette between his fingers. He didn’t care to bother with the formalities of searching for evidence and reading cunts their rights and all so he let her handle it. She glanced at his cigarette like she was dying for a drag, she hadn’t had one in weeks, but he was already flicking it to the cement when he saw her come toward him.
Addison chewed her lip as she stopped a few feet in front of him before she spoke. “I’m sorry I snapped at you,” she murmured quietly, looking up into his eyes. “In the van, before. I didn’t mean to,” she sighed. “I’m exhausted.” He didn’t answer right away, he couldn’t think what to say, then she spoke again. “I’m going home.” Her eyes were shadowed and tired, dark circles marring her light skin. “Alone.”
He felt like he’d been punched in the gut. “Like hell you’re goin' home alone,” he growled before he could think better if it.
Addison shook her head and he didn’t miss the tears welling in her eyes. “I need a fucking break, Billy. Look…” she paused, rubbing at her forehead. “You have me on ‘find my friends’ don’t you? Just keep checking it.”
“Oy, or maybe you’re just sayin’ that because you’d prefer me outta the way and MM in your bed instead.”
“What a fucking stupid thing to say, Billy.” Addison started to break down, her eyes going dead and cold.
“Stupid, eh? I’m not the one riskin' me bleedin’ life for no goddamn good reason.”
“I’m just trying to get through each day right now,” she threw her hands down, tears starting to spill now. She held her breath, glaring at him, trying to keep from crying more, he knew, but he couldn’t fight the desperation building inside him.
“And you aren’t helping,” she bit out.
“Who is helpin'?! MM?” he snarled. He knew it wasn’t true, he knew it was absolutely fucking bonkers but he couldn’t stop himself from saying it, to goad her into fighting. If she was fighting, she was staying.
“Billy fucking stop,” she said desperately. “You know you’re the only person in my entire life I’ve ever -,” she stopped and swallowed. “I’ve ever - cared for. I’m yours. But what about me? What am I? I’ll be competing with Becca until the day I die.”
“Excuse me if I’d rather that day come a little later rather than sooner, eh? And I’ve never put that on you,” he pointed his finger at her. “That’s not fuckin’ square. I never compared ya to her.”
“Are you sure? Because I’m pretty damn certain I’ll always be second.”
“In case ya forgot, she’s dead, Addison. So I fail to see how I can compare ya. Where the fuck is this even comin’ from?” he shouted.
Tears were flowing down her cheeks now and he felt like his chest was ripping apart. She looked more exhausted than he ever imagined a person could be. Steel and shouting he could handle. He knew how to fight. But this...he didn’t know what to do but he didn’t want her to leave.
“I can’t do it,” she said hopelessly. “I can’t be everything and fix everything and be good at my job, and make you happy and accomplish everything I want to do. I’m not perfect. I’m a fucking mess. She’s a goddess to you. I can’t be - her,” Addi waved her hand uselessly in the air.
Billy swallowed thickly. It wasn’t true, but how did he explain it? “Then be different,” he finally said, a little desperately, his voice impossibly low. “Don’t leave. Don’t leave now. Let me take care of you.”
But this time he could see her shutting down, closing up.
She took a breath and closed her eyes before she looked at him again. “It’s too much. I can’t.” Tears were streaming down her cheeks but she forced herself to compose her expression, to steady her voice.
Billy cursed, turning away and slamming his fist into the side of the van.
“I’ll be at my apartment,” she said quietly to his back. “I won’t go anywhere else. I promise.” He heard her take a breath and sniffle. “I am different,” she murmured. “I’m different because I’m telling you right now. I’m not disappearing on you, I won’t. But please Billy. I just need a minute to breathe.”
He didn’t turn around. He couldn’t watch her go.
As soon as she was gone, Billy stalked to his car, flinging the door open, but MM stopped him with a hard hand on his shoulder.
“I know what you’re thinkin’ Butcher, and ya can’t do it. If you sit outside her place, she’ll know.” MM pressed his hand to Billy’s chest, leveling him with a cold stare. “Go home.”
Billy started to argue, but MM stopped him. “If you respect her, if you want to keep her, you’ll let her go. You might be right, Butcher. But it’s her decision to make.”
Billy finally nodded, feeling absolutely sick, but he knew MM was right.
As soon as he got home, he was checking his app every 10 minutes like a fucking lunatic and he loathed it. He needed her in his arms, soft and safe, pressed against him. Listening to his heartbeat. There was this little sound she made when she did it and when he heard it he knew they were both okay.
He checked again. Still there. Still at her apartment. Alone. He stayed up all night and all the next day, driving himself insane. He finally had to admit to himself that she was probably fine and maybe she had been right all along.
Billy finally passed out late in the afternoon on the couch with his phone in his hand.
When he woke up, it was to a start. He couldn’t find his cell at first and he searched frantically until he spotted it on the floor. He grabbed it, thumbing it on and opening the app. The little circle spun, loading, mocking him and with each passing second his heart beat harder.
Loading...
Loading...
Addison Caldwell
No location found.
He swore, checking his signal, closing out the app and opening it again desperately.
Loading...
Loading...
Addison Caldwell
No location found.
*.*.*
Chapter 26
Who do you think the big bad is?? Up next: you in danger, girl. If you have time, a little comment would make my whole year! Thank you! ♥
#billy butcher#karl urban#the boys#the boys fanfic#billy butcher fanfic#karl urban fanfic#billy butcher x ofc#the boys tv#fanfic#smut#billy butcher fanfiction#the boys fanfiction
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Good Dreams
The Motherfucking Gallaghers Masterlist
CW: Referenced past child abuse / past withholding food as an abuse tactic, child of whumper
Kieran and Jax belong to @comfy-whumpee and, as always, are used with their permission and oversight. The format of this piece is heavily inspired by Morg's Echoes, which you should go read right now. I'll wait.
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Izzy Gallagher wakes without a gasp, or a cry. She doesn't sit straight up in bed, or flail around. Lying perfectly still on her side, her eyes simply pop open all at once.
Heart in her throat, she holds her breath and listens.
She can still feel the cobwebs she had been pushing through, desperate to escape the canvas-covered furniture in the monster room in her mother's house. It's been ten years since her father took she and Jamie to the train station and saved them, seven years since the trial sent Savannah Marcoset to prison, life without possibility of parole, a prayer Izzy turns to when she is most frightened… but she still remembers the feel of dusty cloth beneath her fingers and the grime that would settle on her cheeks, cut through by her tears.
Then she hears it.
There's water running in the kitchen, a subtle sound, but Izzy follows it out of bed, padding on awkward long legs in her short pyjama bottoms and sweatshirt into the hallway, arms crossed in front of her as if trying to disappear into the dubious safety of her own body and the oversized cotton she wears.
Her mother's fingertips brush the back of her neck. Even after waking, Savvie is still reaching for her, wailing why ever did you cut off all your beautiful hair?
Izzy steps out of the dark hall and into the soft yellowed light of the kitchen, searching for her father to chase the memory of her mother away.
Kieran, glass of water in hand, turns to look at her with crinkly wrinkles starting at the corners of his eyes and a soft smile. He wears a jumper in dark forest green over black pyjama bottoms, has some gray in his hair, and everything in him is love. "Hey, Izzy. Did I wake you?"
"No." Her voice is still husky and deep with sleep. "I woke up and then heard you."
Izzy swallows and stops in the doorway, leaning towards him but the memory of her nightmare keeps her from holding out her arms. She's fourteen, she's too old for this, but...
She had a nightmare, she is still trembling and frightened, and she wants one of her fathers to hold her.
A much smaller Izzy Gallagher wakes with the tiniest whimper, throwing herself from her blankets and fleeing the dream on her hands and knees. She crawls across the living room. past where her father and brother lay on the makeshift bed on the floor.
Jamie, already nearly as big as his sister even though he's three years younger, curls against Jax's side, making little snuffly noises with his nose, still stuffy from a cold he's getting over.
Izzy can be very, very quiet, when she needs to be.
She can be as silent as a mouse, moving quick as a blink. Her daddy's sleeping face stays relaxed, and his body isn't all blocky like wood, how he is sometimes when he hears something and has to remember Mommy isn't here.
Her dream keeps trying to grab her back, to make her think about the big long table, her itchy lace dress and too-tight shoes, plates and plates of food all around that she isn't allowed to eat. Her dream tries to make her remember her mother's hands closed tight around her arms, keeping her in Savvie's lap, suffocating her with hair while her tummy rumbles but the food is grown-up food, too good for children, and Savvie won't let her eat.
Izzy won't think about that.
She sees the sofa across the room and remembers there's a space between it and the wall behind it, the perfect amount of space for a little Izzy to curl up in.
It had been a great hiding spot earlier during hide-and-seek. Jamie hadn’t found her at all and she’d had to come out when he got scared and thought she’d run off and left him alone looking for her.
Izzy would never do that, but he doesn’t know that yet. He’s too little, and it’s her job to teach him. So she had come back out and said, here I am, you were so close! You were so close to finding me! and he had laughed, relieved, his tears drying as fast as they appeared.
Izzy's daddy and her daddy's-... friend… Kieran, who her father promises is not like her mother and never will be, had looked at each other and smiled, a little. Or maybe only Kieran had.
Izzy had been watching him.
Kieran nods, slowly, taking her in as she watches him right back. Her sleep-rumpled short hair sticking up in spiky angles, her eyes all brown like her father's, her face all angles and lines. The girls at school are soft and pretty in ways that make Izzy's stomach twist in knots when she tries to talk to them, fingers buzzing with every brush of fingers, but her own face has never seemed soft to her.
Izzy thinks of herself as always looking like a frightened deer or something. She feels like one now.
"Tea?" He offers, in his gentle voice. Izzy shakes her head and hugs herself more, her lower lip trembling a little before she bites down on it to stop it, bites down with her top teeth until it hurts.
His expression shifts, then. He understands what she isn't saying, what she can't make herself say, and he holds his arms out to her.
Izzy runs into them, bare feet slapping on kitchen tile, and he catches her.
"Do you want to tell me about it?" He asks in a murmur against her hair.
Izzy can be very small, when she needs to be. She curls into the tiniest ball she can manage in the space between the couch and the wall. She knows hiding, she learned how to be invisible when her mother didn’t want to see her, or when she was angry at Jax and Izzy had to disappear until her mother's rage passed like the Big Bad Wolf. Then she could come out and see Jax, her daddy blown apart like a house made of sticks.
Izzy can read the little pigs book. The other kids read faster than she does, and they read better, but she’s trying. Sometimes they laugh at her but not because of reading. Because she is Izzy Fraidy-Cat, who jumps at every loud sound or has to not cry on purpose when the teacher gets mad.
But not the reading. No one minds she is slow at reading, and she is always trying to be better.
She hears the door down the hall open, and freezes in place, brown eyes wide as saucers in the darkness.
It must be Kieran, her daddy’s-... boyfriend. Not friend, not really, he is something different than that. Kieran is like kissing and holding hands more than friends, he and Jax like-like each other, but he is not another mommy.
There won't be another mommy, not ever ever again. Jax promised her with pinkie swears and crossed his heart and she is sure he means it. He wouldn’t have promised so hard if he didn’t mean it. Izzy's daddy keeps every promise, now that he is allowed to.
Kieran isn't a new mommy, but he is a boyfriend, which is scary. But… if Kieran is what boyfriends are, then maybe those aren’t so bad.
He moves to the bathroom, and she listens intently. Her knees are almost at her chin and her hands pressed against the sides of her own neck. She doesn’t breathe except in thin quick inhales, lighter than the air she pulls into herself, exhaled all at once.
There’s a pause. Sound of water moving through pipes, running out of the sink. The bathroom door opens again, and she waits for him to go back to bed.
But he doesn’t.
Kieran walks with her back to her room, reassuring warmth beside and behind her. When Izzy climbs back into bed, he pulls the covers down and then up again to cover her. She watches his face, cataloging every bit of warmth he shows that pushes back the nightmare's final touches.
Then he climbs into bed beside her, seated on top of the covers, ankles crossed at the end. He turns to look at her, leaning against the headboard. She shifts herself up and leans against him, tipping her head until it rests on his shoulder.
His smile is still in his voice. "Talk to me, love."
Kieran's feet - she can see them moving - carry him to the kitchen. Her own legs are starting to hurt and she closes her eyes shut tight and tries to breathe even less, even though it makes her dizzy. Like hiding from her mother, when she had to be so, so quiet. She and her daddy played the quiet game over and over and Izzy was always the best player, a good helper, keeping hidden until he said it was safe for her and Jamie to be seen again.
There’s a little light over the sink he turns on, dim as the nightlight Izzy has to have so she can go to sleep. Her mother’s shadow is in the dark, and the nightlights chase her away.
She and Daddy have talked about how monsters lose their power if you turn on the light to show everyone what they really are.
Her legs are starting to hurt, all bent like this for so long. Her toes wiggle where they stick out the bottom of her pyjama pants, trying to find a way to be comfortable without being seen.
Water runs again.
She hears her daddy moving in the little floor-bed they made of pillows and blankets. “Kieran.” His slightly rough voice isn’t a question, but it is a question, too.
“Just a glass of water,” Kieran replies, a voice soft like the rose petals that Izzy runs her fingers over when they bloom outside her mother’s house, and there are roses here, too. No one here thinks it’s funny when she pricks her fingers on the thorns. “That’s all.”
“Okay. Wait." A pause. "Izzy."
“Izzy?” Kieran sounds puzzled, moving closer. She sees his shadow moving along the floor, where he leans over, looking at the puddle of blankets where she had been before her mother found her in dreams and made her say please and thank you but she never says it right, she never has, and she isn't allowed to eat until her mother says she's earned it.
She chokes on her mother’s hair in dreams, it goes down her throat and steals all the air for Mommy and none for anyone else.
Kieran hums. “Oh. I just came from the bathroom…"
“Fuck,” Her daddy whispers. He's already moving, hands searching almost blindly until he finds Jamie, who makes a little whimpering sound. Her daddy's hands move over his soft straight hair, his warm face, find his back. But his eyes are still on the empty place where Izzy had been. His face doesn't show it, not right away, but Izzy knows how it sounds when he is afraid. “Shit. Where is she, where-"
“I’m here!” Izzy pushes frantically forwards, guilt driving her to wriggle like a worm to get out faster. Her pajamas catch on something at the edge of the sofa-back and she feels it tear but shoves out anyway. “I’m right here! I’m here, Daddy!”
Kieran startles, almost spilling his water, looking at her with slightly wide eyes. Then he relaxes, and smiles. "Oh, thank God. Right here in the room with us."
Izzy doesn’t answer him. He is not her daddy and it is her daddy she has frightened. It's Jax who needs her to help him.
She crawls right back to him, sees his eyes catch hers in the dim middle-of-the-night mix of moonlight and the soft kitchen light whose shine just barely touches them all here. She sees his shoulders relax, a little, one of his hands start to uncurl fingers from palm. “Hey, kiddo,” He says, a soft exhale sound of relief.
“I’m so sorry, Daddy.” Tears strike but she tries not to cry them outside of her, embarrassed that Kieran might see.
Izzy is very, very good at not crying, when she has to be, so that the grown-ups won’t become angry and scream or lock her up or laugh at her. Even though Jax promises they won’t do that here. “I was having a dream, Daddy. I, I-" She swallows back all the things she wants to say. That there was so much food but she couldn't have any, that her mother held her so hard it hurt her, that she was in trouble and scared of being put in the room for time out all night again. Kieran isn't their family. She can't tell him this, can't say it in front of him. Instead, she says, "I… woke up and I wanted to hide. I am so sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."
Jax’s eyes flicker up to Kieran and then back to her. He knows there are things she doesn't say in front of other grownups, grownups who aren't her doctors or her grandpa or daddy.
“Makes sense,” Is all Jax says out loud, and opens an arm for her when she makes it to him, sliding it around her shoulders and holding on tight.
“Good thing tomorrow’s a Saturday,” Kieran offers, kind as can be, his voice gentle and soft. He has a voice like a hug, and she doesn’t like to admit it but she likes him very much. As long as he stays this way and doesn't turn mean later. Maybe he won't. Izzy has started to hope that he is always kind and they can stay friends and boyfriends and whatever forever.
Not that she'll say it out loud.
Izzy smiles - she isn’t very good at smiling, but sometimes like now she can’t help it. He sees her smile, and smiles right back at her until she hides her face against Jax’s side and listens to him walk back down the hall to his room, closing the door when he and his glass of water go inside.
"I dreamed about her," Izzy murmurs, barely speaking. Kie hums, a sign that he's listening, but he doesn't ask for details, just waits. After a pause, she keeps talking. Her throat feels tight. "I dreamed I was back in the house, running and running from her, but every door I opened was the monster room… my, uh, my time-out room-"
"Mhmm." Has she told him about it before? Right now, in the fuzzy middle of the night, she can't remember. If she hasn't, he doesn't ask.
It helps.
"I couldn't find my way out. It was all cobwebs and dust, and the cobwebs kept turning into her hair, sticking to me, and I couldn't-..." Her voice hitches, and he has an arm around her shoulder and holds her close. He smells like his cologne, and he and Jax smell like home in a deep-down way that she loves. "I couldn't get outside. And I knew… if I could just leave, she couldn't follow me out, but I couldn't escape and she kept getting closer and louder and... she was, she kept grabbing at me..." She swallows. "Then I woke up, just as she caught me."
"That does sound pretty frightening." He doesn't sound like he thinks it was a silly dream, or she is silly for being a fourteen year old still scared of the dark, who still has a little light plugged into the wall.
"I was so scared when I woke up, but then… I heard you."
"I'm glad I woke up thirsty, then," He teases, gentle and loving. Kieran rests his cheek on her hair. "A well-timed middle-of-the-night water break."
“I’m sorry,” Izzy whispers again. She is very good at apologizing right away. “That I scared you. I am, Daddy. I am so sorry…"
“Nah,” Jax replies. "I get it." When he shifts to lay back down, so does she, watching his wide-awake eyes, just like hers, as he looks towards the ceiling. Jamie has never even blinked his eyes open. “Might do the same, if I could, but I can’t fit behind the couch."
He looks at her, and they have the same eyes, and his have a gleam of moonlight and humor and his love for them both. "I’d get stuck. You'd have to put butter on my head to get me out."
She giggles behind her hands at the idea of him stuck back there with his feet out and his hair all covered in butter from the dish. His smile is tired, but she loves it better than any other smile in the world.
She isn’t very good at going back to sleep after bad dreams, but tonight she lays in her daddy's arms and her bad dream fades away. The rest of her dreams are good ones.
"Thanks for sitting with me." Izzy's voice is blurred now, lips barely moving. "Sorry for burying you in my mom shit at three in the morning. I know you have work tomorrow."
"That's all right. Maybe I can sneak a nap, hide under my desk and put a sign up that I'm out for lunch."
Izzy smiles at the unimaginable idea of Kieran skiving off without even leaving his office, and snuggles in close. "Hey, Kie?"
She's barely still awake, and it's the only reason she has the courage to say exactly what she is thinking out loud, here, in the dimly-lit dark.
"Hm?"
"You're a really good dad. Love you."
"Love you, too," He murmurs back to her, and if his voice sounds a little tight and he blinks his eyes rapidly, she is too nearly back asleep to either hear or see it.
She feels him press a kiss to the top of her head as he eases her back to lying down under the covers. She misses Jax in the doorway and the question in his eyes. She doesn't see the look they share, the way Kieran smiles and puts a finger to his lips before the two men head back to their own bedroom together.
The rest of Izzy's dreams that night are good ones.
@whumptober day 20: Found Family
#whumptober2023#no. 20#found family#angst#angst with a happy ending#comf#the motherfucking gallaghers#izzy motherfucking gallagher#child of whumper#past child abuse#withholding food#nightmares#escaped whumpee#freed whumpee#soft#whump ocs#whump#whump writing
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Abandoned Buildings
Koro Sensei [Ryushi Korogane] x Assassin!Experimented!Reader
Had this idea for a while, just rewatched Ass.Class and thought I’d write it. 100% SFW don’t worry lol (I don’t write a lot of NSFW)
Synopsis: You met the infamous Reaper on an assassination job. Things…happened from there.
—
This was his apartment. The infamous “Reaper”.
He’d taken out your client’s son, and his grandson had since gone missing.
Personally, you didn’t care much. So what? The snot-nosed kid probably saw his dad get taken out. He was either running and hiding or the Reaper had taken him out too.
What the Reaper did wasn’t really your business. He was an assassin. A professional. Your were the same. Money is Money, though. And with the amount this guy was paying you, there wasn’t really room to refuse.
No one really knew anything about the Reaper. But to you, that only made this job more exciting.
You were a pretty techy girl. A city’s security cameras and a few quick firewalls broken through and his info was yours. He wasn’t very tech savvy, not the way you were.
You were now the only individual in all of Japan who knew where he holed up between jobs. The place was rundown. People in the other rooms dealing and doing drugs had no effect on you. You’d seen worse, seen much more sketchy.
His apartment was on the 3rd floor. You were perched up on the building adjacent, across the street. His black out curtains were drawn, but that did little to hide the small boy peeking through. Probably the grandson, you thought. Your client had paid a decent amount of money, and had an extra couple thousand waiting if you brought him back safe and sound.
Something clicked behind you. The roof access door. Shit.
You swing around, reaching for the knife in your thigh holster. But he was quicker. In seconds your front side was pinned against the wall near your spot, your sniper was abandoned and your knife clattered against the floor. The right side of your face burned against the rough material of the wall, and your neck was tense from the harshness of the impact. You could see his face.
He held your hands behind your back, knee between your legs and his right hand holding a gun to your back.
“And who might you be, sweet cheeks?”
You gritted your teeth. Damn it.
The man chuckled.
“Y/N.” You responded. “And who in the hell are you?”
He smiled. “I have a feeling you know exactly who I am.”
…fuck. The Reaper.
“Listen, hon. You’re good. Nobody’s ever been able to find me out the way you did. Place is under an old targets name and… well, you probably know the rest.”
You did. His money was dirty, and he likely was using the boy inside as either a decoy. He was good.
“Who sent you?”
He dug the gun harder into your back, his index finger firm against the trigger.
You stayed silent.
“Fine, then.” He smile turned to a dark smirk. “I have no trouble turning to torture tactics. This area is pretty sketchy, so no one will question this.”
He moved the gun down, shooting you through the thigh. You groaned, stifling a scream. The gun was moved up to your back again.
“Tell me who sent you, and I won’t have to waste your pretty face.”
You sighed. “You killed my targets son. Took his grandkid. He didn’t tell me his name, paid me a fuckton to bring him your body.”
“Huh. Shoulda figured.”
He stepped back, letting go of you and scratching his head with the barrel of his gun. You moved quickly, snatching up your knife and shoving him to the ground. His gun clattered to the right and you held the knife against his throat.
“Listen. Personally, I don’t give a crap what you do or who your targets do. Honestly, you did some pretty good work with that guy. But this is a lot of money, and I need it.”
He didn’t even struggle. Just laughed.
“Oh, I like you, sweet cheeks. Listen, how’s about you come work for me instead? I’m no good with all that technology crap and I can do a whole lot more for you than that old rich guy can. Just fine me his info.”
You clenched your teeth again. “What’s in it for me?”
“Warm food on the table. Companionship. Better compensation from clients when word gets out you’re workin’ with the Reaper.”
You pulled the knife away after a moment. Fine. You’d play his game.
“L/N. Y/N L/N.”
You helped him up.
“Ryushi Korogane.”
—
You banged your fist against the glass. Damn it. This was supposed to be a quick job. In and out. You should’ve known. The compensation was suspiciously high, the target to insignificant. Ryushi knew it was fishy but you’d insisted. And now here you were. Rooms away from him and stuck in some glass holding space. An Experiment, you’d been told.
That’s all you were now. A test subject.
From what you could find out, Ryushi was undergoing the same “treatments” you were. Tentacle Serum injected into the back of your neck. It had been months now. Assholes.
You hadn’t seen him. After months you’d learned to love the goofy pervert, and you’d gotten engaged shortly before the little shit you’d learned to love betrayed you. They’d taken your ring, the necklace Ryushi had stood for you, and all your clothes. A white sweater and sweatpants adorned your now frail body. They gave you the bare minimum in the form of nutrients, and it did little to keep you steady these days.
Yukimura walked through the door.
“Y/N. Good to see you.” You didn’t quite trust her. The way she talked about Ryushi rubbed you the wrong way. You’d lived your whole life reading people and you could tell. She liked him.
“Yukimura. My food, please?”
“Listen.” She started, pushing the button to get you your stale food and bottled water. “They’re transferring you. A new facility. They need to separate you and the Korogane. The two of you are due to combust March 13.”
You dropped the water, head spinning. Spiked.
When you collapsed, alarms started ringing. A message came over the over-com. Ryushi was out.
That’s all you heard before the world went black.
—
You fast as you could up the mountain. He was here, you knew it. You’d found him. Class 3-E, Yukimura’s old class.
You’d escaped your facility days after the one you’d formerly been held captive was destroyed by Ryushi. After months, eight to be exact, you’d finally found him. The government officials weren’t hard to beat answers out of.
Your tentacles sprouted from your neck, pulling you faster.
All the color had been sucked from your body. You were an ugly gray color, your hair a lighter color of pale white. Your body hadn’t changed much physically, other than color and tentacles. You briefly wondered what had happened to him.
You stopped short. The class building.
It was Wednesday. Almost 10pm. Abandoned, except for him.
You panted. You didn’t have supersonic speed like he apparently had. You couldn’t smell like he could or see. But that was hardly an issue for you.
Something snapped behind you.
“Hey there, sweet cheeks.”
You spun around. It was him
“Ryushi.”
—
Might make a part two is someone asks for it. But for now, this is all :)
#koro sensei#assassination classroom#assassination classroom x reader#koro sensei x reader#assassination
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✨Trust Exercises!✨
Hi! This is a fic that I had on Ao3 its just a small scenario where you yes u reader pitch Charlie a great idea for a hotel bonding activity. no romance or anything just a fun scene.
“And you never make me do anything with this lousy picture box again, this face was made for radio darling” You hear Alastor say to Vaggie as you catch the ending of their conversation that you were totally not paying attention to, although what he said made you have a thought. “Wait I just realized that means have you never played a video game Alastor?” you vocalize immediately as the thought leaves your mind. He and Vaggie turn to you lying on the couch on your phone, realizing they forgot you were there. “No darling that sounds like an awful experience since games should be fun and nothing concerning this piece of junk ever is,” he says whacking the side of the old TV. You make a face and sigh “Too bad I feel like you would love some of them, I'm trying to determine whether you'd be more of an fps guy or an RPG guy but I think an fps would be too complex for you to start on…” you pause rambling to yourself. Maybe something 8-bit because those are more old school, well to my time, like oh-” you shoot up from your seat your eyes almost sparkling as a great idea pops in your brain. Vaggie makes a concerned face as you stand up and dart out of the room. “I'M GONNA GET CHARLIE OMG THIS IS GONNA BE GREAT!”
You run through the hotel and find hells Princess doing… well actually you don't really know what she does on her off time but she answers her door to you panting and rambling kinda like how she does from time to time “wait wait slow down, omg is this how I sound? Wow Im sooo sorry but start again” she says chuckling slightly. You start over “ok so I was thinking an activity everyone could do is play video games, I loved them when I was alive and I thought about it because I realized they didn't exist when a lot of our group was alive and I think thats sad and their missing out.” you quickly blurt and take a breath to then continue your ramble. “I thought it might also be good for rehabilitation because we have games where there's horror and shooters and gore so people can indulge without like actually hurting people you know! Like I could go and get beginner-level games for everyone for their interests I think it would be great!” you finally finish taking a breath. You beam at Charlie expectantly as she processes your information and you slowly see her eye sparkle too. “That… sounds… like.. A GREAT IDEA WHAT ARE WE WAITING FOR LETS GO!”
A few hours go by of you finding out how video games work in hell because as you forgot it's not one-to-one with Earth but after hours of aggressive keyboard typing noises you call everyone over. You stand in front of everyone in the lobby with Charlie as she explains what you explained to her as you antsy twiddle your thumbs as she ends with any questions. To which Alastor responds “I thought I made it clear I want nothing to do with your silly technology and TVs” he hisses “Well technically you're not going to be needing a TV and I think you’ll like the game so please everyone try for at least one hour and you can stop but I think you'll be hooked!” you state confidently “well then letssss do it! I'm exssssited!” Pentious states making you squeal. You walk over to him and hand him a phone, you had made sure to make the games easy for some of the less tech-savvy guests. “It's called Oppositions and Overlords, you tap the screen with your finger and you make your own battalion and fight other armies, you make whatever battle tactics you like!” you take a second to tap around and show him how to do it, it takes him a second and then you move to nifty. “Nifty it's called Community of Lambs and-” As you explain you realize she isn't picking up anything so you simplify “This button moves, this button stabs” She lights up snatching the controller from you as you sigh.
You proceed to show Charlie and Vaggie a game called pentagram valley that they play together and Husk a spooky card game called Engraving and Angel a dating sim called “Submit to me” which you open for him and he immediately whistles and shouts “Oh hello babes'' to which you giggle and suck in a breath to head over to Alastor at last, now this one was tricky. You needed something easy so that he wouldn't get frustrated. “Ok Alastor are you actually going to participate?” you ask meekly holding your laptop in your hands. He gives a small sigh and chuckles “Well my dear if you put all this effort in I suppose I will give it a shot then but I will not promise that your little screen will remain intact later.” you sigh, “ok then so it's called the underground fable. I loved the version of it while I was alive. It was actually revolutionary for games. There's multiple stories you can choose from. You're going to drag this to move and press here to do all the actions two buttons ok. There are two options which is save everyone or kill everyone and it's very sick and twisted when you kill everyone so I think you’ll like it ok and yeah I checked its very similar if not even creepier than what I played umm, yeah I cried anyway, have fun or not I one hour ok!” you ramble to him explaining. You really wanted to try your best to make him like this activity. Looking at his expression you couldn't really tell, well it was always hard because he never stops smiling. You stop trying to dissect his thoughts and slowly back away.
An hour passes and an alarm rings in your headphones. You begin to speak but then stop yourself as you look around and see that everyone is very much enjoying their games. Nifty is kicking her feet while lying on the floor yelling “Stab stab! Blood blood!” Pentious is mumbling something about glory and noble sacrifices or something saluting to himself in the corner. You're actually impressed when you see Vaggie and Charlie have made quite a pretty house and are raising a pact of hell goats on an impressively large farm. You then look at Alastor, inspecting him still not sure what he's thinking. You think you should probably tell him time is up or you think he might cut off your head for letting him be near modern tech for 10 seconds longer than he needed to. However, to your surprise and delight? When you walk up behind him you hear him chuckling slightly. “Alastor? Times up by the way you don't need to play anymore.” he turns to you slightly “Oh well then my dear I guess you're right look at the time a whole hour haha! How time flies!” he chuckles. “Although I would not like to admit you may have been right, seeing these little creatures explode into bits of dust is quite entertaining, and they yell at me too and plead as if they have any power over me it's quite hilarity” he chuckles darkly sending a chill down your spine. “Well, I never thought I'd see the day when The radio demon himself called modern technology entertaining! I think I have just won at life, well afterlife” you muse to yourself proudly “Haha yes dear I guess it seems so however, I think you should keep that one to yourself okay? A secret, my dear this information must not leave the hotel.” static fills the air as his eyes turn to dials, you know you should be intimidated but you chuckle.
“Ok, Alastor you got it it would be a scandal if you were caught cheating on the radio with video games oh the horror! GASP! The world would simply end” you chuckle sarcasm oozing from you. “Ha Ha funny my dear, now if you would be so kind I am keeping this device of yours to continue to slaughter these fish people” he muses chuckling darkly. A little sadistic you think but hey, you won they were all still playing. What did Charlie call it? A happy day in hell.
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Thought I'd do a quick guide for avoiding scams:
0: YOU ARE NOT IMMUNE TO PROPAGANDA. If you're thinking 'I'm tech-savvy and in my 20's/30's', then you are actually in the age group most likely to fall for scams.
1: If they contact you out of the blue, that's a scam.
2: If they say 'Hang up and I'll call you back so you can see it's the right number', that's a scam. Call the number yourself.
3: If they offer you money if you give them money, that's a scam.
4: YES IF THEY DO THIS AT ANY POINT. NOT JUST AT THE BEGINNING.
5: If you cannot verify who the person is yourself, that's a scam.
6: No, if there is someone in front of you whose card declines, that's not a scam. You saw it with your own eyes.
7: No, if they're right in front of you and your friend, that's not a scam. You know them.
8: If they try to pressure you, telling you that you need to do this NOW, that you need to do this OR YOU'RE BAD, then that is a scam, they are trying to turn off your critical thinking by panicking you.
9: Scammers are opportunists. If something is going on, then they will scam.
10: Anyone who tells you it's better to give to a scam than not to give on the basis that it could be a scam is in on the scam. It is never better to give to a scam. You do not know what is being done with that money once it leaves your hands.
11: Scams do not always involve one person. In fact, a lot of them involve several. There being more people involved does not make it not a scam.
12: If it's a phone scam and you do pick up the phone, do anything to buy yourself some time. 'Hold on I'm doing something, I'll call you back in five minutes'. Anything. This gives you time away from the pressure to think about it.
13: Do not click on links you do not expect to find, or any links in emails you weren't expecting to get (like mailing lists you didn't sign up for)
14: Do not trust endorsements unless you can verify that the endorser actually gave them (this has often been used with Martin Lewis)
15: If it sounds too good to be true, it probably is. No, you did not win the lottery you didn't enter. No, you did not inherit money from a foreign millionaire. No, the United Nations is not contacting you with funding. It's a scam.
16: Your bank will never email you requesting your PIN. It's a scam.
17: Poor grammar is a good indicator that it's a scam, especially if they claim to be from and in an area which speaks the language they're speaking.
18: Type out links if they look like regular pasted links. Hyperlinks exist and are used in scams.
19: If they say you cannot contact someone else (eg a family member, friend, or someone in a bank), contact that person.
20: If a company contacts you, check that it is actually registered in your country. (in the UK, use Companies House)
If anyone uses these tactics and you, YOU, cannot verify who they are. (No, having someone else verify them does not make them verified by you), then assume they are a scammer or in on the scam. DO NOT GIVE MONEY TO SCAMS. If you want something to prove to you that no, it's not fine to give to a scammer because they might need it anyway, remember that you do not know what the money is being used for, and imagine it being used for the worst thing you can imagine.
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RSI Tactics for GBPJPY: Unlock Hidden Forex Opportunities The RSI Playbook for GBPJPY: Ninja Moves That Even the Pros Miss Imagine walking into a boxing ring blindfolded. That’s what trading GBPJPY without the Relative Strength Index (RSI) feels like. One minute you’re up; the next, you’re down for the count. But don’t worry—we’re about to unveil the RSI’s secret sauce and help you spot knockout opportunities before they hit you in the face. Why GBPJPY Is the Wild Card of Forex Dubbed the “Dragon Pair,” GBPJPY isn’t for the faint-hearted. It’s volatile, unpredictable, and perfect for traders who love a challenge. With great risk comes great reward, and that’s where the RSI steps in like your ringside coach, helping you dodge the jabs and land the perfect hook. RSI: Your Crystal Ball for GBPJPY Trends The Relative Strength Index (RSI) is like the mood ring of Forex. This oscillator measures the speed and change of price movements, scoring between 0 and 100. A score above 70 means the pair’s been partying too hard (overbought), while below 30 suggests it’s nursing a hangover (oversold). But here’s the catch: most traders stop here. To truly master GBPJPY, you need to dig deeper. Ready? Let’s go underground. 1. “Hidden Divergences”: The Secret Sauce Let’s start with something most traders overlook—hidden divergences. Unlike regular divergences, which signal a reversal, hidden divergences scream “continuation.” Spotting them is like finding a $20 bill in your old jeans. Here’s how: - Look for higher lows in RSI paired with higher lows in GBPJPY price action during an uptrend. - Or find lower highs in RSI with lower highs in price during a downtrend. Pro Tip: Use hidden divergences to hop on trends early. It’s like grabbing a front-row seat before the crowd even knows there’s a concert. 2. Timeframe Sync: The RSI Multi-Timeframe Method GBPJPY loves to fake out traders, so here’s a ninja trick: synchronize RSI signals across multiple timeframes. Think of it like checking the weather forecast—one source might say rain, but when three agree, you grab an umbrella. How to Execute: - Use a higher timeframe (e.g., 4H) to confirm the overall trend. - Switch to a lower timeframe (e.g., 15M) for entry signals. - Align the RSI’s overbought/oversold zones across both. 3. The RSI + Fibonacci Combo: Match Made in Forex Heaven Remember that feeling when you pair the perfect wine with a meal? That’s what happens when you mix RSI with Fibonacci retracements. Step-by-Step: - Identify a trending GBPJPY move. - Plot Fibonacci levels. - Watch RSI at key retracement points (38.2%, 50%, 61.8%). If RSI confirms an overbought or oversold signal at these levels, you’ve struck gold. 4. “RSI Zones”: Beyond the Standard 70/30 Who says you have to stick to RSI’s default 70/30 levels? For GBPJPY, try customizing: - Set overbought at 80 and oversold at 20 during high volatility. - Tighten to 60/40 during calm market conditions. Think of it like adjusting the thermostat in your house—personalize it to your comfort (or, in this case, the market’s temperament). 5. GBPJPY’s “Golden Hour” Every pair has its prime trading hours, and GBPJPY is no exception. Thanks to overlapping London and Tokyo sessions, the best time to trade is 7:00–10:00 AM GMT. Combine RSI analysis with these hours, and you’ll spot trades before most traders even have their morning coffee. Real-Life Example: Turning RSI Insights into Profit Last October, GBPJPY hit an overbought RSI on the 1H chart at a major Fibonacci resistance. Instead of jumping in to short immediately, a savvy trader waited for confirmation on the 15M RSI. The result? A 100-pip drop in hours. Avoiding Common RSI Pitfalls - Ignoring the Trend: RSI is not a stand-alone tool. Use it with moving averages or trendlines to avoid getting blindsided. - Chasing Every Signal: Not every overbought/oversold condition leads to a reversal. Be selective—quality over quantity wins the race. - Overcomplicating Settings: While tweaking RSI can help, stick to what’s effective. Fancy doesn’t always mean better. Advanced Bonus: RSI + Smart Trading Tool Want to supercharge your RSI strategy? Use a Smart Trading Tool like the one available at StarseedFX. Automate RSI alerts, optimize lot sizes, and streamline order management. It’s like having a trading assistant that never sleeps. Mastering GBPJPY with RSI Trading GBPJPY with RSI is an art and science. From hidden divergences to multi-timeframe sync, the tools are at your fingertips. But remember, every trader’s journey is unique. Start small, test strategies, and let the RSI be your guiding light in the Forex jungle. Your Next Step: Expand your skills with these resources: - Latest Forex News for market insights. - Free Forex Courses to refine your techniques. - Community Membership for expert analysis and live trading insights. Start trading smarter today—and don’t forget to share your success stories below. After all, trading is better when you’re not flying solo! —————– Image Credits: Cover image at the top is AI-generated Read the full article
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Made For You pt.3
I’m so sorry for the late post guys! I had the most hectic work load today. I’m taking too many goddamn classes this semester. ANYWAY here is my filthy part 3. I mean... they still haven’t fucked, but we’re getting there. I think this can be wrapped in a nice little 4 part bow, but I also kinda want 10 chapters of them together because I’m a slut for this dynamic. This is my FIRST TIME writing smut! So go easy on me. Thank you so much for reading! - Savvy
BUCKY X READER
Summary: Hydra had just finished training you to be the Winter Soldier’s perfect mate when the Avengers saved him. But what’s going to happen to you now that Hydra has deleted your old life and left you with nothing but a soldier that needs to learn to love himself before he can love someone else.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
WARNINGS: explicit sexual content, explicit language, underage reader (nothing sexual happens underage), stockholm syndrome, mentions of family death, eventual dom/sub dynamics, mentions of captivity and kidnapping. violence- guns, mutual pining, SMUT, ORAL (m receiving), FLUFF, angst if you squint (must be 18+)
Word Count: 2300
It was a short ride to the compound, and y/n had a hard time keeping up with the fast walking team as they tried to explain little things along the way.
She hadn’t been outside in a decade. The grass was green and warm where it met her bare feet as she walked behind Sam and Steve. The rest of the team immediately left the quinjet, seeking the comfort of their showers and beds. Bucky was the last to leave, not feeling right about just disappearing from her, but keeping his distance.
Y/n was still so heartbroken. Hearing about her family’s death had really stung, and she knew if she dwelled on it, she’d cry about it for days. But all she really had time to be sad about was how cold her Soldat was towards her. It seemed very much like he didn’t want her around him.
Steve and Sam brought y/n inside the residential wing of the compound. They toured the common areas, kitchen, and showed her where everyone’s bedroom was. They finally got to a guest bedroom down the hall from Natasha, and left her to get cleaned up and comfortable.
Y/n looked around her new bedroom. It was barely decorated, but she had to admit, it was still much nicer than her room with the Men. She sat her yarn and needles down on a table and sat on the large bed. Her body instantly sank into it, the plush comforter conforming to her body in a way the single sheet never did on the twin bed she slept on.
But she couldn’t enjoy her new favorite place in the world for long because not 3 minutes later, she heard a soft knock at her door. She opened it, and much to her surprise, Bucky was standing there, with 2 pairs of sweatpants, and 3 t shirts in his arms.
“I figured you’d want some fresh clothes after you’re clean.” He said sheepishly, not making eye contact with her. “You can ask Nat about undergarments.”
That made her giggle the tiniest bit. “I’m not allowed to wear any undergarments.” But he should know that. She was trained to do things to please him, so wouldn’t he like her to not have on obstructing materials?
“Oh. Well, umm… you can now… If you want to. It’s up to you.” She could see the blush rise up his neck, coloring the bits of his face that weren’t blanketed by hair. She took in his attire. He obviously changed out of his tactical mission gear, in favor of the sweatpants he wore that looked almost identical to the ones in his arms. He also appeared to be freshly showered, his hair still damp, and if she looked close enough, she could see little wet patches on his shirt from where he didn’t dry himself completely.
“Are these your clothes?” She asked, taking the bundle from his arms and opening her door wider so he could enter her room.
“Yeah, Steve went a little overboard on the shopping when I first got here. They’ll be a little big, but the pants have a drawstring, so it should work for now. Until you get something better.” He stood awkwardly in the middle of his room.
Y/n didn’t know what possessed her to put the sweatpants up to her face and inhale deeply. She just felt a primal urge to know what he smelled like. Gunpowder, wood, and something naturally male- Bucky. She couldn’t stop the moan low in her throat.
Bucky watched her as she did that. He felt his pants tighten just at the thought of her in his clothes, and the way she just smelled his pants and let out that sound of satisfaction, made him want to take her right there.
“Thank you, sir.” Y/n replied. Fully engulfed in her embarrassment.
“Y/n, you really don’t need to call me that. I’m just Bucky.” He reminded her. Honestly, he loved when she called him Sir- the authority it gave him, but it made an unholy amount of blood flow directly to his cock and he couldn’t think as clearly. Especially when she looked up at him with those innocent eyes.
“Okay, Bucky.” She said, trying the name out on her tongue. He liked the way she said it. “If that makes you happy.” She risked a step closer to him.
“You need to do what makes you happy.” He took an equally measured step back, knowing he was close to giving in to her temptation.
“I’m working on it, Bucky. But I need your permission. I just wanna be good for you.” She said, quickly taking 3 more steps until she was about 6 inches from his face.
“This isn’t right, Y/n. You don’t know what you’re doing or why you’re doing it. Hydra wanted this. You don’t have to belong to me.” She craned her neck up to be closer to his lips, but he was determined to reason with her before he does something he can’t take back.
“But I want to belong to you. I thought about you every day for 10 years years, Bucky. And I hadn’t even seen you.” Bucky tilted his head down ever so slightly, their lips were just shy of touching. “Let me be good for you, Bucky. Let me make you happy.” She repeated.
“Okay.” Was all he said. He expected their lips to touch then, but she was already down in her knees. None of her videos showed passionate kissing. She wanted to please him in the way she read about in her studies.
On her knees, Y/n was able to see the thick outline of his erect cock very easily, and couldn’t stop the involuntary moan. Just as she did with his other sweatpants, Y/n pressed her face against the bulge and inhaled deeply. Between the smell that was just so him, and the warmth of his clothed cock rubbing on her face, she was starting to go feral for the man standing in front of her in complete shock.
Bucky hadn’t been with a woman since before the war, and they definitely weren’t like this. He watched as she was damn near purring while she rubbed her face on him. She reminded him of a kitten, the way she open-mouthed kissed the line of his cock through his sweatpants. Then she pulled them down, and he felt her wet tongue roll around the fat tip.
“Shit, Y/n, you don’t have to do this.”
“Do you want me to stop, Sir?” She said, taking another lick from base to tip.
“God no. Fuck.” he groaned as she started put his balls in her mouth and sucked, hard. “But if you keep working me like that this is definitely gonna stop.”
She moaned hearing him fall apart above him- finally fulfilling her destiny. Making her Soldat happy.
“Fuck, Babydoll, you’re so good at this. Where the fuck did you learn this?” He asked, more to himself than to her, seeing as she started bobbing and swiveling her head. He wanted to put his hands in her hair, but ultimately decided not too. If he was gonna let this happen, it had to be at her pace.
She had never seen a cock in person but she knew he must be above average, her tongue counting 3 thick veins running up the sides and bottom of it. Trying to remember everything she saw the women in the videos doing and all the descriptions she read in the erotic literature, she hollowed her mouth around him and flattened her tongue against the underside of his cock.
“Fucking hell, Babydoll you’re doing so well for me. Y/n, shit.” She felt his cock touch the back of her throat and gagged around the intrusion. Spit mixed with precum rolling down her chin. When she looked up at him, her big eyes meeting his, he lost it. She could feel his cock harden just a little bit more, and his balls tightened, right before he released his heavy load into her throat. She backed up a little so it wouldn’t go straight down, she wanted to feel him on her tongue and taste him. Once she was sure she got every drop, she sat back on her heels and looked up at him. She opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue a little so he could see his cum sitting on it before she swallowed it all with a soft moan.
“Did I do good, Sir?” She said, still sitting in front of him, his cock softening in her face as she watched the anatomy work in fascination. She reached her hand out to touch it, really appreciating the feel and warmth of his skin. He groaned loudly at the overstimulation and the sound of her normally smooth voice, now rough from the number she did on him.
“Fuck, Y/n, you did so good, Babydoll. You’re such a good girl.”
And in that moment he felt like he could pass out. He wanted to vomit because he looked down at her face and saw the innocence still in her eyes. Good girl. He remembered saying those words to her before. So long ago. He saw a flash of a memory of rubbing a little girl’s head before knocking her out. Carrying her to her house and tucking her in her bed, before stroking her face one last time and leaving. He remembered how Hydra fried him so hard after that mission, they were afraid they killed him. She looked different, older, but it was the same eyes. Definitely her. And there that same girl was, on her knees for him, and just gave him the best blowjob of his life.
He tucked himself back into his sweatpants. Part of him wanted to run away. He was ashamed of himself. He knew that he should have turned her down and left before anything could happen. He took advantage of her. But he also knew that if he just left now with no explanation, he would be an even bigger asshole. Times like that made him miss the simplicity of not having control over his life.
“Y/n, you did such a good job for me.” He stood her up, pulling her in for a bone crushing hug. This confused her, because she never saw the aftermath in her videos. It was always brutal and then the woman was just left there. But he was so gentle with her as he tenderly stroked her hair and lowered his lips to hers for a kiss.
It was the absolute least he could do. He wanted to kiss her- he wanted to reciprocate and make her see stars, but his mind was racing. Debating if it was a good time to tell her about their previous encounter, wondering if she remembered him and was acting, or if she had no idea that he’s the reason she was kidnapped. And even though he didn’t kill them, the reason her family is dead. Selfishly, he decided that it would be best if he told her another time. He hadn’t experienced intimacy like this in so long, and Y/n’s lips felt amazing on his.
He finally broke the kiss to give her air, knowing she doesn’t have the lung capacity he has. “Do you want to have dinner with me?” He asked, not wanting to rush her into anything else. He knew he’d be going to hell for it, but he needed to be around her.
“I would love to, Sir.” She said with the biggest smile her face could muster. He swore he’d never get tired of seeing that smile. Feeling her tits press against his chest through the thin cotton layers of both of their clothes. Hearing how she moaned just a little when he stroked her jaw. He could feel his brain going fuzzy from just the intoxicating proximity of their embrace as they hugged, swaying slightly and exchanging sweet kisses in between longing looks.
“Call me, Bucky.” He gently reminded her. For his sake, really- his self control couldn’t handle her constant submissive nature. “I’m gonna let you take that shower, and in the meantime, I’ll go order some take out. Do you like chinese?” He asked, putting some distance between them, to prevent her from noticing how he was getting hard all over again and dropping to her knees for round two.
“Chinese people? I don’t know any, but I’m sure they’re lovely.” She replied, a little confused by his strange question.
Part of him liked that he wasn’t the most clueless person in the compound anymore. When it came to texting and pop culture, he was useless, but Y/n was held in captivity. She didn’t have takeout, or dinner dates, or freedom to shower with nobody watching her. He would be able to teach her those things, and he liked that. Someone needing him for more than violence. Someone to take care of.
“I’ll just go order the food. I’ll be back soon, Babydoll. There should be shampoo and conditioner in the shower with towels and all types of other stuff. Just look around a bit.” He said before he walked out of her room. She had never experienced moisture between her thighs like she was in that moment, so a shower was probably a good idea.
Part 4
~
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Could you do a fanfic where Kensi tells Deeks about her time living on the streets? Thank you :)
A/N: I hope I got the tone of this right. I always feel these types of scenarios require a little more buildup. This deals with some sensitive content as well.
Follows the scene in The Grey Man where Kensi refers to when she was homeless.
***
Adrift
“I used be.” The simple, yet telling statement has been rolling through Deeks head all day. He’d tried to conceal that he already knew about her time living on the street since Kensi had never chosen to share the information with him.
He was horrified by the thought of a grown man showing interest in a vulnerable, teenage Kensi. Artie might be harmless, but there were enough men like him who weren’t.
“Oh, I need a very large burrito and a long bath,” Kensi sighed as she deposited her bag and shoes on the floor by his couch. They hadn’t agreed to meet at his house, but it had become standard practice for them to end up at one of their places at the end of the day.
“How about a medium sized taco and the company of a highly attractive detective?” he offered instead.
“I guess that’ll have to do.” She gave him a smirk, squeezing his arm as she passed by. Likely to change into a pair of the sweats and a t-shirt that somehow migrated to his closet recently.
When she came back out a few minutes later, Deeks was mixing a pan of chicken and seasonings.
“You need any help?”
“Hm? Yeah, no, I’m good,” he replied distractedly.
“Ok. Something on your mind? You’ve been freakishly quiet,” Kensi observed. She leaned against the counter next to the stove and reached across him to snatch a piece of cheese from the pile he grated while the pan was heating.
“Yeah, I was just, uh, thinking about earlier when we were in the park.” He didn’t need to say anything else for Kensi to figure out what he was referring to.
“Oh.” She sighed deeply, giving him a weighty look.
“I know you said you didn’t want to talk about it, and if you still feel that way I will absolutely back down, but, um-“ He paused, scratching at his hair. “What you said about being a guy like Artie’s type, it bothered me.”
“Yeah, it probably wasn’t the best way to introduce the topic,” Kensi admitted with a slight grimace. “You don’t have to pretend that you didn’t already know that I lived on the street. I’m not mad.”
“All I really know is that you were homeless for around a year after your dad died,” Deeks told her.
“I guess it’s time I told you the rest then.” Flipping off the burner under the chicken, she gestured towards the couch. “I think this is the sit down kind of conversation.”
He followed her, keeping a foot or so between them when he sat down, figuring she’d need the space. Kensi looked beyond him, her eyes distant for a moment before she started talking.
“After my dad died, I was extremely angry, hurt…devastated. For the first couple days after, I stayed with a family we knew. Then one night, a social worker came and told me I would be moving back in with my mom.
“I was furious, said I wouldn’t do it. They said I had no choice. So, the day I was supposed to leave, I packed up as much as I could carry, and left.”
Deeks had expected as much, given what he knew about Kensi’s history.
“Where did you go?” he asked.
“I walked down the highway and pitched a ride with a guy who smelled like clove cigarettes and offered to let me stay with his family if I wanted. I didn’t think he was dangerous, but I also didn’t want to make it to easy for anyone to find me,” she explained.
“Of course you were already a seasoned operator at 16.” Kensi smiled briefly at his comment.
“Well, dad trained me well. Anyways, he was able to drive about an hour away and then I walked for the rest of the day. Eventually I found a shelter that took me in for a few nights. Then one day when I came from looking for a job, they told me my bed was given to someone else.
“After that, I think I started to realize how bad my situation was, but I was too stubborn to change my mind. At that point, I just couldn’t imagine going back to my mom.” Kensi shrugged a little self-consciously. “That sounds pretty juvenile now.”
“Hey, at least you didn’t let your best friend convince you to go joyriding,” he joked, needing to lighten the mood as he sensed the tension rising.
“It probably would have been the smarter thing to do,” Kensi said quietly. She rubbed idly at the tip of her fingernail. “I found this little spot between a dumpster and an apartment building that seemed pretty safe and pretty discreet. I was so tired, I fell asleep in a few minutes even though I was cold and hungry.” Glancing down at her knees, she paused again before continuing. “I woke in the middle night in the pouring rain, with this guy standing over me.”
Even though he’d figured this moment was coming, Deeks tensed, reaching for Kensi’s hand without thinking. She let him take it, still looking down.
“Even though my dad drilled self-defense tactics into my head, I still froze. Next thing I knew, he’d grabbed me and was tugging towards this alley. I finally started fighting back, but he just laughed. God, I can still smell the alcohol on his breath. He was this short, wiry guy, but I couldn’t fight him off. I only got in a couple kicks.”
She chuckled harshly, shaking her head as she swiped at her cheek. Belatedly, Deeks realized she was wiping away a tear.
“Hey.” He gave her hand a light tug until Kensi glanced up at him under her lashes. “Kensi, whatever happened that day, you are not to blame.”
“I just kept thinking, what would my dad say if he saw me.”
“Well, first of all, he’d probably shoot the guy, which I totally support,” Deeks said easily, loathing the man who’d attacked Kensi. “I think he’d also be incredibly proud of your strength.”
Her eyes widened slightly in surprise and then she pressed her lips together, shaking her head.
“You always know the right thing to say,” she murmured. She lightly rubbed her thumb across the back of his hand, giving him a soft smile.
“Um, so I was preparing for the worst and screaming as loud as I could and suddenly this guy appeared in front of us. He was huge. Obviously, I thought he was the first man’s friend, but then he pulled out a knife. He didn’t say anything, just flashed it a couple times and the guy holding me let go and ran off.
“Damian.” She said the name fondly, reminiscently. “That night, and a hundred after, he was my guardian Angel. He told me heard me screaming and came to investigate. Then he offered to bring me to the camp where he lived. Even though he’d never met me before, he treated me like an old friend. Made sure I got some food, introduced me to his girlfriend, Amara. They were just a few years older than me, but they watched out for me.”
“He sounds like a good man,” Deeks commented.
“He was,” Kensi agreed. “After a while, I got more street savvy, but Damien and Amara looked after me as much as they could. Whenever a guy would get a little too friendly, Damien just had to give them a look and they backed down.”
“I’m sorry you had to go through that. No one deserves to be afraid like that.”
“I can’t say it was the best year of my life.” She shrugged. “It taught me a lot though.”
“You’re amazing, you know that?” he said, feeling enormous affection for her-and more that he would definitely not examine right now.
Kensi just gave him another smile, seeming reluctant to interrupt the moment.
“I should probably finish dinner,” he reminded her, conscious of Kensi’s left side pressed to his. Of how close and vulnerable she was right now. She tilted her head to the side, a look of slight disappointment in her eyes, before she brushed away.
“Probably,” she agreed, shifting away. “Thanks for listening, Deeks.”
“Anytime.”
***
A/N: Thanks for the prompt!
#ncis la fanfiction#marty deeks#kensi blye#pre densi#angst#tw: attempted assault#anonymous prompt#ejzah fanfiction
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Luke Alvez x Reader: Premature
Request: ‘can i request an imagine where the reader is pregnant and luke’s away on a case when she goes into labor? and garcia has to call luke to get him home?’
Tagged: @ssaic-jareau , @alvezstan , @saintd0lce , @ogmilkis , @reidswords, @ssa-morgan, @garcias-batcave , @akimagies, @zhangyixingxing1 , @pinkdiamond1016
Word count: 4.5k
Warnings: none
A/N: idk why i always picture luke with a daughter??? but anyway another DAD luke fic like yes pls, enjoy!
The worst part about being pregnant had to be the lower back aches. Or maybe the way your swollen ankles prevented you from fitting into any of your cute shoes. It could also be the tender breasts, the mood swings, or how food didn’t taste as good, yet somehow you were still always hungry. Come to think of it, being pregnant, in general, was the worst.
Currently, you were seven and a half months along. You had 6 weeks until your daughter would be born. 6 weeks somehow felt both impossibly long and just around the corner. On one hand, you really couldn’t wait to get your body back. You missed wearing pants that didn’t have an elastic waistband, and the freedom of being able to get out of bed without Luke’s help.
On the other hand, you and Luke were going to be first time parents. This brought about a lot of anxiety and uncertainty. There was still so much to get done before the baby arrived, that at times you couldn’t help but feel a little overwhelmed.
“You worry too much,” Luke had told you one afternoon.
But you disagreed. “Luke, she’s gonna be here in less than two months and her room isn’t even close to being finished. We still have to paint, and put together the crib-”
“We have six weeks, baby. I’ll get it done, I promise.”
His reassuring words did little to calm your mind or your nerves. One thing that did keep the anxious thoughts at bay, was work. Focusing your attention on BAU cases was the perfect distraction… until that was taken away from you too.
“I don’t want you in the field,” Luke had stated that night.
“You’re joking, right?”
Luke’s pressed lips and slightly flared nostril told you that no, he was not joking.
“Luke,” you’d groaned, throwing your head back against the pillow. “I’m fine.”
“You can barely walk, let alone chase after anyone,” he stated, his arms folding across his chest. He always did that when he wanted you to take him seriously. “And I know for a fact that you can’t fit into a bulletproof vest.”
You threw him your best glare. “Okay, first off, that was mean. Second, you can’t expect me to just sit here all day doing nothing. I’ll go insane, you know I will.”
“Baby, you’re seven months pregnant. You need to relax.”
“Relax? Seriously, Luke?” you felt a wave of frustration wash over you. Lately you've been finding it so hard to control your emotions, so you’re not entirely surprised when you feel the burning of tears in your eyes. “I can’t relax! I’m uncomfortable all the time. I’m fat and I’m hot and I’m sweaty. My boobs feel like they’re going to explode any second. I’m nauseous and I’m tired and I’m hungry. And if I stay home all day that’s all I’m going to think about. I’m going to just sit and dwell on the fact that I am miserable.”
Luke’s face softens when he sees that you’re crying. That wasn’t an uncommon occurrence lately, but he felt guilty for being the one to cause it this time around.
“C’mere,” he says, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.
And even though you’re angry with him, you don’t hesitate before scooting up the mattress and sliding into his arms. You lay your head on his shoulder, Luke’s hand finding its way down to your lower back, where he rubs gentle circles into the sore muscles. Being in his arms had a way of making you feel better.
“I’m sorry you’re so uncomfortable, baby. I just- I worry about you. All I want is for you and the baby to be okay.”
You sniffle into his chest, his sweet words making your voice soften. “I can’t sit here all day, Luke. I really can’t.”
“I know.” He rests his cheek on top of your head and sighs. “How about we meet in the middle?”
Looking up at him, you skeptically ask, “How?”
“You could work the cases from the BAU,” he suggests.
You scrunch your nose, secretly hoping that his compromise meant just giving in to what you wanted entirely. But, as you think about it for a moment, you had to admit you didn’t completely hate the idea. Things were getting challenging in the field. And as much as you hated him for saying it, Luke was right- the bulletproof vests no longer fit you, and you couldn’t chase down any perps. You were relatively useless, at least physically, at this point.
“I’m sure Garcia would love an extra hand,” he adds.
“Fine,” you mutter quietly.
“Thank you,” he whispers, pressing a light peck against the top of your head.
But, as Luke would soon find, just because you agreed to be stationed at the BAU did not mean you weren’t going to complain about it.
The two of you walked, hand-in-hand, into the building the next morning. Emily had called, about fifteen minutes prior, to let you both know that you had a case in Boston.
“What if I just stay at the police precinct?”
Luke rolled his eyes. “No.”
“Why not? I could help Reid with the geological profile- or interview the families. There’s a lot I can do-”
“We already agreed that you’d stay here.”
You scoffed in frustration before trying another tactic.
“You know,” you drawled, using the hand he wasn’t already holding to reach around and grip his arm. “I’m worried about you, too.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes,” you state, matter-of-factly. “Just because I’m carrying the baby doesn’t mean I’m the only one that needs to stay safe. It would be equally devastating if something happened to you. You let your hand trail down the length of his arm and over to your belly. “I don’t know what we’d do without you.”
Luke swiped his ID badge to get inside the building before holding the door open for you, you hesitate, waiting for his response. Luke’s lips were parted into a soft grin. “I know you’re just trying to make me feel guilty, but that was really sweet.” He leans forward and pecks your lips lightly.
You roll your eyes and storm into the building.
…
“So I hear we’re going to be lab partners!” Garcia drums her fingers against the round table.
You shrug, “Looks like it.”
“I know you’re bummed to not be in the field, but I’m so excited that you’ll be here.”
Luke’s hand reaches for yours underneath the table. You let your fingers lace together with his before you smile back at Garcia. Maybe being sidelined wouldn’t be all bad. “I’m excited too, Pen,” you tell her.
“Alright guys listen up,” Emily enters the briefing room. “Police need our help in Boston. Two college students have gone missing the past month, and one of the bodies was just found dumped off of I-95. Y/N will be working the case from here, so we’ll be down a body in the field.”
Garcia hits a few buttons on the remote, making a gruesome image project onto the screen in front of the team. She presents a few more details about the case before Emily declares, “Wheels up in 20.”
Luke’s shifting through his go bag at his desk when you approach him from behind. You rest your hand on his back and rub up and down his soft, maroon shirt.
“Be safe, okay?” you tell him. You felt guilty knowing he was going into the field without you.
Luke sighs, turning his body so that he was facing you. His big hands rest on your hips as he holds you out in front of him. “You know I will.”
You nod, and you believed his words, but that didn’t mean you’d be any less worried about him while he was away.
Luke could sense the uneasiness on your face, so he leaned in and kissed your cheek lightly before whispering, “There is nothing that could ever keep me from coming back home to you and our baby, do you hear me?”
Leaning into his touch, you sigh. “Good. Because I meant what I said; I don’t know what we’d do without you.”
“We’re going to miss you out there, kid.” Rossi states as he passes your desk.
“Keep me updated,” you respond sadly. He pats you on the shoulder before nodding with a smile.
With a final kiss and promises to call, Luke and the rest of the team load onto the jet to head for Boston.
At first, you stay in the bullpen seated at your desk, running through the casefile. You were the only one in the entire room. By habit, you kept looking up at Luke’s desk. Instead of his warm smile, you’re met by his empty chair. Your eyes linger for a moment before you feel a sharp pain shoot across your stomach, making you wince.
“Woah,” you whisper, your hand falling on your bump. “Was that a kick?” you ask her out loud.
It didn’t take long before the silence became deafening, so after a few minutes, you stand up and waddle down the hallway to Garcia’s leir. You knock at her door before entering.
“Hey,” you say, your hand supporting your sore back. “It’s like, creepy quiet out there, do you mind if I work with you, in here?”
Her face lights up. “Of course!” Immediately, she begins clearing off a space on her desk for you to set up.
“Thanks,” you smile, taking a seat in her spare office chair. You try your best to sit up straight as your insides begin to cramp. Garica turns to see your eyes squeezed shut.
“What’s wrong?” her voice is filled with concern.
“Nothing,” you sigh in relief when the cramp passes. “She’s kicking a lot today.”
Garcia’s face breaks out into a large grin. “Oh! My Goddaughter’s gonna be a spunky one, isn’t she?”
…
As it turned out, there wasn’t much for you to do from the BAU. Garcia worked tirelessly, delving into files and uncovering helpful information for the team. But you weren’t even close to being as tech savvy as her, and besides the casefile you’d already read through four times, you didn’t have many resources to work off of.
Whenever the team would call with questions, you’d listen intently, and try to figure out some way that you could help them. But, by that evening, you were starting to feel pretty useless.
“Why don’t you just head home?” Garcia suggested kindly. “You look tired.”
You were tired. You were tired and hungry and sore from all your baby’s kicking. But you shook your head. “I don’t want to be in the house alone,” you admit to her. “It’s too quiet there without Luke.”
Garcia, of course, understands. “Do you want to take a walk? Just around the building?”
At first, you want to say no. But as you consider her offer, you can’t help but admit that stretching your legs sounded pretty nice, so you agree.
“I think I’m most excited for coffee,” you tell Garcia. The two of you had walked the entire floor of the BAU a couple of times now and were about to head back to her office.
“God, I can’t even imagine going nine months without coffee. I think that would break me,” she admits.
You start to laugh, but you’re quickly interrupted by a sudden, sharp pain in your abdomen.
“Woah,” you gasp, grabbing your stomach. You hunch over, desperate to alleviate some of the pain, but it only grows with intensity. It takes your breath away for a moment, and all you can do is focus on the tiled floor beneath you as you attempt to muscle through it.
But then you feel something burst inside of you, followed by a warm liquid rushing down your leg.
With wide, terrified eyes, you look up to Garcia.
“Pen,” you whisper, barely recognizing your own voice. “I th-think my water just broke...”
“Oh my god,” she says, her voice higher than usual. “Oh my god, okay, okay. You’re okay.”
She hurries to your side and wraps an arm around your waist. You and your shaky legs are grateful for her support. She guides you to a chair stationed in the hallway, where she helps you sit.
The panic really starts to set in once your eyes land on your dampened pants.
“No,” you start to shake your head rapidly. “Pen, no I can’t- it’s too early-”
You’re amazed by how calm Garcia remains. “It’s okay,” she tells you. “We’re gonna get you to the hospital and everything’s gonna be fine.”
But you keep shaking your head. “No, she’s early. She’s too early- I need Luke, please- I can’t do this.”
“I’m gonna call Luke right now, everything’s going to be okay.”
Garcia pulls out her phone and dials your husband. She frowns when it goes to voicemail after a few rings.
By now, there’s a steady influx of tears spilling down your cheeks. You ask softly, “Why isn’t he answering?”
“Let me try Emily.”
You sigh a breath of relief when you hear Emily’s voice on the other end of the line.
“Emily-” Garcia gasps. “Where’s Luke?”
You overhear her, “He’s interrogating the Unsub- why? What’s the matter?”
“Y/N’s in labor, we need him.”
“Oh my god,” Emily says. There’s a brief pause before she tells Garcia, “I’ll be right back.”
“Pen-” you groan, another contraction washing over you. You hunch over in the chair and grab at the air, desperate for something to clamp down on.
She quickly extends her hand, letting you squeeze it tightly.
“Garcia?” you hear Luke’s sweet voice over the line. You want to call out for him, but you can’t form the words.
“Luke!” she exclaims, her concerned eyes never leaving you. “Luke, Y/N’s in labor- her water just broke. You have to come home.”
You gasp and bite down on your lip as the pain suddenly intensifies.
“Breathe,” she instructs you calmly. “Just breathe with me-”
“What?” you can hear the disbelief in his voice. “But- she’s only seven months pregnant- that's too early-”
The contraction passes, leaving you breathless, but you hold your hand out. Garcia picks up on your gesture and hands you the phone.
“Luke-” you’re on the verge of bursting into terrified tears. “I’m so scared.”
“Baby, it’s okay, you’re gonna be okay.” You can hear the worry in his voice as he soothes you. “I’m on my way, okay? I’m gonna take the jet, I’ll be there soon.”
“I don’t know if I can do this-”
“No, baby- of course you can, you’re so strong. You’re gonna be okay.”
“Please hurry,” you whimper.
“I will, I love you.”
You pass the phone to Garcia reluctantly. You wished you could stay on the line with him. Something about hearing his voice made you feel calmer.
You’re shaky and weak, but Garcia helps you all the way into the elevator and down into the parking garage. You hesitate before climbing into the front seat of her car.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, her hand gently placed on your elbow.
“I don’t want to get your seat all gross-”
You’re referring to the amniotic sac fluid currently soaking your pants.
“Are you serious?” she asks in disbelief. “If we don’t hurry you’re going to be giving birth in my car, so I think I’ll take my chances with the water.”
You nod quickly and climb into the front seat. While Garcia hurries around to the front, you clutch onto your baby bump tightly, wondering why the hell she was coming so early.
Garcia winds through traffic hurriedly, every so often she glances in your direction, trying to make sure you’re okay. “I guess they weren’t kicks,” you groan, as another contraction washes over you. You grip the door handle until your knuckles turn white and squeeze your eyes shut.
“Keep breathing,” Garcia soothes. She lets you take her hand across the console and doesn’t even wince when you squish it tightly in yours.
“I’m really scared, Penelope,” you whimper quietly, falling back against the seat when the contraction passes.
“I know,” Garcia clicks her tongue empathetically.
“Nothing’s ready. Not her room- we haven’t even set up her crib yet I’m not ready. I was supposed to have another 6 weeks to get ready-”
But Penelope is shaking her head. “You, right now, as you are, are going to be a great mother, okay? You’re ready.”
She sounded so sure, so confident in you- maybe she was right.
…
“Where is he?”
You’re sweating, exposed in a delivery room, and in more pain than you ever have been in your entire life.
Garcia’s stayed by your side the entire time, holding your hand and talking you through the pain. You’d been at the hospital about two hours now.
Currently, Garcia was dabbing your forehead with a wet washcloth. Your contractions were about 6 minutes apart. According to the doctor, you’d have to start pushing soon.
“I can’t do this without him. He should be here..”
“He’ll be here.”
You look up at her, exhausted and with fear in your eyes.
Garcia squeezes your shoulder. “And if he’s not here, then we’ll do this together, okay? You and me.”
“Promise you won’t leave?”
She nods. “I promise.”
…
Luke’s sprinting through the maze of a hospital trying desperately to find the delivery room number that Garcia texted him. He’s already been redirected by a couple of nurses, but every floor looked the same.
The door number came into sight when he turned the corner. He doesn’t hesitate before running the final distance between the two of you.
Luke swings the door open, only able to exhale when his eyes finally land on you.
You’re sitting up in your bed, hair tied up messily and cheeks flushed.
As soon as you see him, he sees your shoulder slump, like you’ve exhaled a breath of relief.
“Luke-”
His name is barely audible, but it’s enough.
“I’m here, baby,” he assures you, crossing the room in just two, large strides.
Garcia’s on the opposite side of your bed, clutching your hand tightly. After pressing his lips against your sweaty forehead, he looks at her and mouths, ‘thank you’.
She nods, “Of course, it was nothing.” She says it casually, like she didn’t just spend the last three hours comforting you through labor, doing his job for him, making sure you were safe.
It was everything.
Minutes after Luke arrives, the doctor tells you it’s time to push.
You flash Luke a scared glance, but he wraps an arm around your shoulder and kissed your temple, his lips feel comforting. “You can do this.”
You sigh, because like you said, being in his arms had a way of making you feel better.
...
When her soft cries fill the air, you’re finally able to breathe again. You collapse back against your pillow, exhausted and sweaty.
Luke’s still cupping your hand in his, his much larger fingers wrapping themselves around your skin. He’s looking towards the doctor, who’s holding in his arms, your baby girl.
“Is she okay?” you ask weakly.
Luke nods. “She’s small, but she’s so beautiful.”
Because she’s premature, you’re not able to hold her right away. Instead, she’s bundled up and taken to the NICU.
“No-” you protest pathetically. “I want her with me-”
“I know,” Luke whispers. “But they gotta keep her warm. They’re gonna put her in an isolette. They said we can visit as soon as you’re ready.”
Without hesitating, you attempt to sit up in bed. “I’m ready,” you declare weakly.
Luke’s hand pushes against your shoulder lightly in protest. “No, baby. You need rest-”
You found yourself growing angrier and angrier. You wanted to see your baby- wanted to hold her. But your body betrays you. You’re just so exhausted that you can’t even fight against him. Instead, you fall back against the pillow and huff out a choppy, frustrated sob.
“I know,” he says. He sits on the edge of your bed and reaches his hand out to brush some of the loose strands of hair away from your face. He leans forward and presses his lips to your sweaty forehead. “You did so good.” He whispers against your skin. “So, so good.”
You close your eyes against his touch, letting it wash over you.
“How small is she?” you ask when he finally breaks away.
Luke’s lips pressed together in a thin line and he didn't answer immediately. After a moment he sighs. “She’s small.”
“She’s gonna be okay though, right?” You look to Luke for all the answers. And he wants to give them to you. He wants to give everything to you.
He nods. “She’s gonna be okay. She’s a fighter, like her mom.”
…
Your daughter has to stay in the NICU for two, agonizingly long weeks. After a couple of days, you start to get some energy back. But seeing her in that box, and not being able to hold your baby when you wanted was taking its toll emotionally.
You and Luke stayed at the hospital for the entirety of the two weeks, never wanting to leave her alone.
It was painful and hard and exhausting, but together, it almost seemed bearable.
The team visited in shifts. Garcia arrived first with a giant bundle of pink balloons. Spencer and JJ brought magazines and books to keep you busy. Tara has a beautiful bouquet of flowers. Matt and Kristy brought you clothes to change into. Rossi and Emily brought various dishes for the two of you to eat. By the end of your two weeks, you felt incredibly grateful for your BAU family.
On the day that you and Luke were finally given the okay to take your daughter home, you found your nerves inching their way back into the forefront of your mind. It was an absolute relief that your premature daughter turned out to be healthy and safe and as beautiful as ever. But you thought about the unfinished room at home and your stomach twisted into knots.
“Where are we gonna put her?” you asked, imagining the crib you’d bought and never put together.
“I’ll put it together when we get home,” Luke assures you. “Can’t be that hard.”
You nodded, pushing the thought away. It didn’t matter. Not when you had this miracle of a baby in your arms.
When Luke pulled the car into the driveway of your house, you both stared at your home, hesitating before getting out of the car, as if it was just now hitting you how much everything was about to change.
Luke gives your hand a reassuring squeeze.
“Ready?” he asked.
You nod, everything was changing for the better. “Ready.”
You keep her cradled to your chest as you make your way through your home. The first order of business for Luke was to put together the crib, so your daughter would at least have a place to sleep.
You’d worry about the rest later.
But when you climb the stairs, you’re startled to see Garcia standing in your hallway, a cheeky grin on her face.
“Pen, hi,” you smile. You’d given her a key to take care of Roxy and water your plants while you were away at the hospital, you assume that was what she was here for.
“Hi,” she smiles wide. “Oh my goodness, is that my little bundle of joy! Let me see!”
You pass Penelope your daughter, watching adoringly as the two interact.
“Is someone else here?” Luke asks, peering down the hall when he hears voices.
Garcia nods, her signature, ear to ear smile spreading across her face. “Yeah, actually we have a surprise for you guys.” She passes your daughter back to you before turning.
“Who’s ‘we’?” Luke asks skeptically.
“Oh, just shut up and follow me,” she says. Her heels click as she walks down the hall towards the bedrooms.
When you turn the corner into your daughter's room, you can’t help but let out a loud gasp. Your jaw practically falls to the floor, surprised to see the entire team piled inside.
Two walls of the room were painted a beautiful shade of pink, while the other two were a soft gray. There were various decoratives hanging on the walls, tying everything together perfectly. There were also numerous shelves filled with an assortment of stuffed animals, toys, and books. And in the corner stood the hardwood crib that Luke and you had bought, completely put together and accented with a beautiful mobile hanging above it.
“Oh my god,” Luke gawks, clearly just as surprised as you.
“You guys-” you start, but you before you can finish your sentence you start to cry. “You guys did all this?”
The smiling faces of the rest of your team answer your question.
“How?” Is all you can manage to say.
“Well, I picked out the colors and the decor,” Garcia says, like it’s obvious. “Emily and Tara both helped paint.”
“And I've put my fair share of cribs together,” Matt chuckles, patting the edge of the darkwood. “It took no time at all.”
“JJ and Spencer got together the books and the stuffed animals,” Garcia motions towards the corner of toys.
“And I supervised,” Rossi smirked, making everyone laugh.
“Guys, this is too much.” Luke shakes his head in disbelief before exhaling and saying sincerely, “thank you.”
You nod in agreement. “This is… amazing. This is more than I could have ever dreamed of. I love it. She’s gonna love it,” you motion towards your now sleeping baby, mouth open and drooling on your chest.
The team knows how exhausted you and Luke are from being at the hospital for the past two weeks, so they don’t stay long. Slowly, they begin filing out of your house, offering both you and the new BAU baby with hugs and kisses goodbye.
Garcia’s the last to leave as she gathers her coat from your entryway chair.
“Pen, I know this was your idea,” you mumble. “You didn’t have to do all this. Thank you.”
She shakes her head, her eyes rolling as she hugs you gently. When she pulls away, she smirks, “If you thought I was going to let my Goddaughter come home to an unfinished room, you are underestimating how much I am going to spoil her.”
With that, she's out the door, leaving you and Luke and your newborn baby alone in the house for the first time as a family of three. Luke wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you into his side securely. You sigh, all of your anxiety and fears melting away. Being in his arms had a way of making you feel better.
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bleeding grounds 〚technoblade〛
in which undefined love does not always persevere over the perils of war
based on this tiktok
(!) violence, war, mentions of trauma, death, blood (!)
He had always been praised for his nimble feet, his astonishing agile movements. The way he could prance around a field with a dozen armed men and have none of them so much as unsheathe their sword. He was savvy and skilled, one of the most talented knights of the realm, and he knew it so damn well.
She, on the contrary, was blunt and stubborn. She knew how to stand her ground, and God, she would not fucking move. She had always let her foes prance their way to her, allowing them to perceive her as a damsel, as a woman too afraid to move her feet. Nothing was less true, she was bold and fiercely untrained, but for some reason, she always managed to create a pile of seeping corpses to mark off her perimeter.
He had trouble understanding her tactics, he believed them to be foolish and terribly perilous. Not only to her and her enemies, but to himself as well. She was stuck, nailed down, to one singular spot. Naturally, so were his eyes. As he swung around his sword, pushing arrows through hearts left and right, his eyes were never on his own target.
Constantly his mind would be preoccupied with her and her moronic antics, he would dance around her boundaries, trying his very best to keep any rival as far from the edge of her bounds as he could.
She did not see it that way. She saw an arrogant man in heavy armor slaying her corpses right in front of her face, she saw another one of those stupid smug knights believing her not to be worthy of her own battles. And God, she despised him for it. Pushing her to the sidelines of her own wars, pushing his own inferiority complex onto her.
So, naturally, she gave in eventually. She gave in and stepped into the line of fire, ducking under sweeping blades and leaping over soaring arrows; ones that would have never reached her would she have stayed put.
His eyebrows furrowed deeper at every shot that got a little too close to her for his liking, abandoning his own opponent, to instead focus solely on hers. Without a second thought, he curved underneath another overdrawn saber, immediately lifting himself back to his feet, his back pressed to hers as a crowd formed around them. A threatening circle of sharpened blades enclosing on them as they desperately tried fighting them off, one by one.
"I told you to stay put." He hissed through gritted teeth, his sword loudly clanking against his towering opponent.
"You're not my dad, Techno, duck." She ordered in response, immediately pulling his body down with hers as another arrow raced past their heads. He murmured a soft 'thank you' before grunting loudly as someone swung their axe into his side, thankfully protected by his excessively heavy chest plate. "You okay?"
"Yeah, fine," A heavy pant, "You?"
"Fantastic." Another broad sweep as she slung her sword into some guy's neck, immediately taking the opportunity to exit their deathly little arena, roaming further into the emptying battlefield. She let her eyes wander the lands, seeing several of her friends still fighting off either undead or almost-dead.
He kept in her vicinity, fighting outrageously hastily, trying to free himself from his foes. He followed her traces, killing off as many men as he could while keeping her close. "Stop trying to get yourself killed." Annoyance laced his voice as she pulled into a jog towards her King, George, who was fighting a mere zombified child. He let his head fall over his shoulder to follow her disappearing figure, groaning in utmost agitation as another soldier tried his luck with him.
"Stop trying to protect me." She yelled loudly, however, not in a joking matter, unfortunately. He knew she hated his absolute guts, she always trailed around his compagnons instead. She wanted nothing to do with him, while he wanted everything to do with her. Obviously, he was too arrogant to ever admit this to her, so he stayed quiet. Silently sweating daily to just keep her safe. Techno was not a man destined for love, he was not meant to care for another person as deeply as for himself. However, anytime his eyes laid upon hers, a meek voice in the back of his head would assure him,
"If you can fight your own enemies this easy, sure you could do hers as well."
Slowly but surely, as the sun started setting, the clanking of swords become more and more.. intermittent. Gradually, the silence of the night started taking over as enemy blood seeped into the ground. However, as his kill numbers started to quiet down, the voices in the back of his mind started growing louder. Louder. Louder. Telling him to keep going, to leave no man alive.
But she was no man, she was the one being in this entire realm not even the ghosts in his mind would dare to speak ill of. The one creature even his insanity wouldn't as much as attempt to threaten. His heavy boots carried him to the rest of their meek group, their feeble effort of their twenty-something-men-army. "You're bleeding."
"Not my blood," She spat back at him, utter venom laced through her spaces. "Mind your business."
However, before he could retaliate, Dream spoke up, "If you want to see her tits, you can just ask, Techno."
"And I'd say no," She giggled at her brother's insinuation, and he, in all honesty, had to count to ten in order not to let the voices win. Murder him. Slit his throat.
"Let's go home." George piped up, scrubbing a filthy rag over the blade of his sword. He sheathed his sword with an ear-piercing ring, "They have prepared rooms at the castle, we pull out again at dawn."
The voices echoed again, entirely preparing him for new sacrifices as soon as the first light hit the grounds. Murder everyone. Keep her safe.
-
The emptied hallways of the castle sounded even more deserted with the echoes of his padded feet pacing through them every few minutes. He roamed the corridors in a fruitless attempt to quiet the voices, to quiet his worrying mind. She had slipped from his eye the second the group had set foot on safe lands, as soon as she carried her slightly limping body through the threshold of the enormous empire. And though he had never been a fan of the kingdom as a whole, it was an ease to his mind, knowing she was safely guarded by hundreds of men and towering walls.
He passed her room for the umpteenth time of the evening, his steps subconsciously slowing as his ears perked at the sound of a whimper. A tiny, soft one, but his animalistic ears had picked it up nonetheless. It was almost muffled like she was trying her utter best not to let out a singular peep.
Her door was cracked open, not more than an inch, but he could not help himself but peek inside. His eyes roamed over the left side of her room, a fauteuil and a dresser, a desk and a mirror and her. She stood in front of the tall mirror, staring at her reflection in complete focus. She was shedding her shirt ever so slowly, which immediately prompted him to avert his gaze and pull back from the door.
However, another hiss sounded. Not necessarily a hiss, more of a sharp breath, loud. His hand slowly found the door handle, slowly pushing the door open a little further, just enough so that she could see his figure standing in the doorway.
Her shirt was pulled up until right below her bra, her delicate fingers tracing a gaping wound on her side; entirely smudged with blood that had, in fact, been hers. Instantly, his mind started playing tricks on him again, whispering malicious words into his ears. You should've known. She's going to die. The door creaked faintly as he pushed himself to stand a little deeper into the room, her eyes on his as she lowered her shirt. "What happened?"
"It's nothing, Techno, go to bed." She barked back immediately, desperately trying to cover the pain that was roaming her tone. He let his hand fall from the handle as she turned to face him entirely, still from the other side of the room. She stood still, awaiting his response, "What did they do to you?"
"It's my own fault." She admitted, embarrassment clear in the way she stood silently, fumbling her fingers. She couldn't help but let out a mocking chuckle, though, "You can tell me 'I told you so'."
"There's no use in telling you that now," He let his lips curl up for but a split second, before remembering the gaping gash in her skin.
She nodded, a blush creeping up her cheeks as he made her way towards her. "Can I?"
"Go ahead," His fingers held the hem of her shirt, gently pulling it up her side to reveal the wound. It was large, but not too deep. He crouched down to his knees, his eyes burning a path on her bruised skin. He let his finger carefully trace the side of the gash, trying to assess whether or not stitches would be necessary. Her skin rose at the contact, slight goosebumps emerging from his feeble touch. She blushed even harder as a shiver ran up her spine, completely oblivious that his body was doing the exact same thing.
She looked down at him through the mirror, her reflection staring down at his face. She let her eyes trace his features, his soft pink skin and white scars, his sharpened teeth, and the blood-stained hair that laid ruffled on his head. It had grown significantly longer in the several days they had spent on the field, the days she had grown to slowly but surely appreciate his, secretly, caring nature. Obviously, though, she did not realize his caring nature only extended to her, that his watchful gaze really only ever allowed itself to cherish her form. "I don't think you should come with us tomorrow."
"Unfortunately, that's not up to you," A soft sigh escaped her lips, her fingers trembling in the slightest where they held up her shirt. He returned a skeptical breath, shooting his eyes to meet hers in their reflection as he spoke, "I'm serious."
She pulled her shirt down over her hips with an annoyed huff, slightly louder as she attempted to hide the underlying hiss. He noticed, of course, she knew he did. He pulled his hands from her body, instantly missing the feeling of her warm skin under his. "Who is it up to then?"
"Anyone but you, really." He rose to his feet, shaking his head in the faintest as his gaze met his feet. Softly clearing his throat, while she added, "Don't tell Dream."
"I will tell Dream." He assured her, to her irritation, "You're hurt."
They stood side-to-side, the front of his arm brushing against her shoulder, as they stared at their reflection. They shared a breath before she broke the silence, "Fine, tell him, I don't care."
"Now, please leave." A spiritless order at best, but an order nonetheless.
-
"George, if she dies tomorrow, her blood will be on your hands." Disbelief covered his entire face, his tone as monotone and harsh as ever, trying so very hard to mask any remaining emotions he had over her.
"She won't, she said she's fine, right?" He replied with annoyance hinting in his tone, "If she wants to fight, she can fight."
He averted his gaze to meet Dream's, surely he would agree with him. Was he not his sister's keeper?
"She's tougher than she lets on, Techno." The blonde spoke mumbling, his arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the dimmed fireplace. George was sat on the side of his bed, his elbows leaning on his knees. He met his eyes, a slow nod as if to say 'told you so'.
"You cannot be serious?" His voice roughened as the concern started inevitably seeping through. "Dream, she will die tomorrow."
The masked man shoved himself from the rough stones of the hearth, immediately stalking towards him. Alarmingly close to his face, chests almost touching, his voice dangerously low, "Then that will be on her."
George also rose to his feet minutely, watching the situation in front of him devolve in a threatening pace, "If she wants to fight, she will fight."
-
And so she did, fight. His words ringing through her head with every step she took out of her normally safe line. She hovered around her own body, careful not to disturb her surroundings. She hissed at any movement she made, anytime she was forced to lift her sword from beside her, an acute flash of searing-white pain overtook her every sense.
And so, she did die.
Ultimately, she would pass out from her seeping wound, fall right into enemy hands. She would fall over and pierce herself on their unsheathed sword. She never had a chance.
She fell to the ground, not with an agonizing shout, but more so a ceasing sigh. She fell to her own ground, the trampled floor of where she had fought the entirety of the, nearly defeated, battle. The blood-soaked dirt she had not allowed herself to leave, constantly replaying his words in her mind, 'Stay put', 'I told you to stay put', 'stay put'.
Agonizing screams did come from the zone of combat, nonetheless, even if they had not been hers. Shouts of terror and anguish as her body fell limp to the earth.
The blood that soaked the fields that day were paid with a price, paid with a price no man had ever paid before.
-
He had never been the same, not since that day. No longer was the image of her an image that would shield him from his own psychotic phantoms, no longer would he yield from the idea of death.
The blood that soaked the earth that day was no atonement of any sorts, the blood that soaked the earth that day had been in utter and complete vain. It had not been just hers that seeped through the roots of evil underneath the soil, it would end with her brother's as well, but not her brother's alone.
The King would die and the empire, and any that would follow it, would inevitably fall to his hands.
-
Blood for the blood god.
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██████████████]99% LOADING...SUSPECT INTO THE APD DATABASE...
WITNESS(ES) SAY HE REMINDS THEM OF: the Italian Mafia, the sound of Lo-Fi beats, a coffee house . With a slight resemblance to NAKAMOTO YUTA of/the NCT 127.
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FULL FILE:
Last Name, First Name: Maiko, Akuyoshi ALIAS: The Crow Realm of birth(if earth, nationality): Japanese Age: 73 Date of Birth: October 31st, 1948 Gender: Cismale Preferred Pronouns: He/Him Species: Demon Occupation: N/A Sexual Orientation: Bisexual
VISUAL FILE:
Skin Color: Pale Eye color: One dark grey almost black the other black with red, white and gold flecks in the iris Scars: two burn scars on either temple, faint scars on his wrists and ankles from long term restraints Piercings: 10 up his right ear from lobe to the top, 5 on his left ear (double lobe, cartilage, helix and daith) Tattoos: Many sporadic tattoos up his arms, and a few on his chest, hip and back. Hair color: jet black with a white/greyish streak in the front Abnormalities: his eyes, and his hair color is natural Horns/ wings/ etc: Transformed form: Akuyoshi’s transformed (demon) form is a four eyed creature with two long black horns coming from his head, dark shadow like wings sprout from his back. The corner of his mouth extend into a sharped tooth grin and his nails grow to abnormal lengths.
PERSONAL FILE:
RELIGIOUS BELIEF: N/A SINS: greed / gluttony / sloth / lust / pride / envy / wrath VIRTUES: chastity / charity / diligence / humility / kindness / patience / justice KNOWN LANGUAGES: Russian, Japanese, English and Below Average Korean SECRETS: The reported terroistic attack on the KGB agency was carried out solely by him, he was in the wind before they could find him. SAVVIES: Guitar, Tinkering/fixing things, Cooking, Assassin work Powers & Abilities: Darkness manipulation, minor pyrokenisis, the ability to possess the living(any 'undead' creatures are immuned), life draining, Infrakenisis (with limitations due to being on earth), Demonic Psionics (with limitations due to being on earth), and able to summon creatures from hell. Expert Stealth, Assassination Tactics, Knowledge in various tranquilizers and poisons, Knowledge in various ways of body disposal, Advance knifing abilities (this includes throwing knives, regular knives, swords and katanas). Traits: patriarchal & mysterious
BACKGROUND CHECK:
Date of Birth: October 31st, 1948 Date of Death: [ if applying for an undead character ] Crime Record: He hates most authority figures, the ones that use their power over others to control them. He’s on many watch lists for assassination of political leaders (rumored), various counts of murder (alleged), various counts of torture (alleged) and a connection to a wealthy and quite suspicious operation worked out of the human city (also alleged), he has never been convicted. He is also technically the sole suspect of the slaughter of 25 KGB agents, 3 high ranked scientists and 2 high ranked psychologist back in 1964.
Background/Biography:
tw: this passage includes vague descriptions of murder, mind control, non-l conscentual impregnation, drug use, sexual abuse, rape, abuse of a minor, blood , parental death, death during childbirth and torture.
Once you are locked away by fiery bars, too powerful to be allowed loose in the human realm or any other, when some from even the darkest depths and realms fear your name on their lips you find yourself, aching to create the chaos you so desperately seek. Cursed to spend the rest of your days roaming the underworld in a special sanctuary for the protection of other hellspawns...and the world, with no way of getting to those realms, in fear of their ultimate destruction what could you possibly do to sate your disgusting lust for those around you to suffer. Easily, he would say, a powerful demon whose name they refused to utter, you create someone else to do the job for you. Sure possession is an option, but all it takes is some divine force to remedy that, especially when it comes to humans, so you….steal a vessel, create living breathing flesh to carry out your sadistic tendencies while you watch from the depths of Hell. All you need is someone to hold it, just for nine months.
Akame Miako’s obsession with the occult lead to her being that vessel. An only child to a hardworking and quite wealthy family in her village she seemed to counter the intense loneliness with spell books and rituals, stories of demonic possession and seances peaked her interest and she went as far to invite one into her home...kind of. Akame didn’t think the stories were true, easy access to summon something that even some other demons feared was far fetched for a mere mortal like her, besides even if she did , she was sure it’d be harmless, as harmless as demon could get. The translation from Latin to Japanese was a bit murky, she did all the things she was supposed to do, shut the door, lit the onyx colored candles and chanted his name. It tasted foul on her lips, metallic and sour as if blood had suddenly come up her throat like bile. The room grew in heat and sweat matted her jet black hair to her forehead, with all this build up the young teen would think that something was bound to happen right? But simply only the candle blew out, casting her room into darkness only set alite by the moon, of course she was right, it was all hullabaloo probably something conjured up by her great great gran something to spook their little village.
But what Akame hadn’t known, was that she’d open the door for exactly what He want ed, she would become his vessel, allowing him to breathe life into flesh another piece of him roaming the planet. It only took a few weeks for her to notice the signs, a usually healthy 18-year-old spent her mornings vomiting crimson, and her nights in searing abdominal pain, maybe a plague was sweeping through their village once more, it wouldn’t be the first time and sure wouldn’t be the last, but it had only been Akame who was harboring this, torturous disease. She hid it for as long as she could, not wanting her parents to worry, time off work meant a dwindle in their status and that was something they couldn’t afford, it wasn’t ‘til her mother founder her, writhing in pain on the floor that the village doctor was called, with a diagnosis no one was expecting, Akame was pregnant. There was no way of convincing her parents that she hadn’t gone against her pledge to wait ‘til marriage. They hadn’t believed that she was some Virgin Mary and she couldn’t even explain it herself. But, an unwed mother and her father’s place in the countries politics was something that they couldn’t afford, they’d locked her away until the babies birth, and it wasn’t until then when they found something was horribly, horribly wrong. It was a taxing birth, the room creaked and groaned, disembodied voices filled the empty space, her stomach twisting and contorting as the creature fought its way out of her. It tore her apart, as it crowned, and Akame was not equipped to handle it. Her feeble and young, she perished as the baby was born leaving her parents in mourning, and the doctor in fear. What was it? Why had it come with jet black hair and dark eyes? Why had it rejected the doctors blessing, crying and wailing as if the prayer was causing it great pain? He could only advise its remaining living relatives one thing, get rid of it.
The Miakofamily wasn’t to keen on killing an infant, in fact they flat out refused, telling the doctor there must be some way to get it far away from them without causing it any harm. They traveled for years, keeping the demonic entity at arms length before an unsuspected visitor received a tantalizing letter. The man was stone cold, with a charming smile, he had a weird accent and shining blue eyes, he’d pay them good money to take the now toddling child into what he called, a ‘school of reform for lost boys’. They took the bate, and the money, almost sad to see it go but happy to be rid of something that they were sure harbored some evil, the thing that killed their daughter, their only child. He said he’d rid it of whatever evil’s that may have come with it, that where it was going it would emerge a new man, and maybe one they would want to communicate with again. Masked by pearly gates and brass door knockers, they weren’t told about the extensive training, and weren't told about the weapon he’d become. How they would abuse him, strip him of his identity and show him how to use his striking looks for his own gain. They didn’t tell him about the monster he’d become, the new man that they’d create on their own accord. And he excelled, climbing in their ranking and leaving bodies and broken bones behind him. His body filled, cut clean, and he followed orders to ever ‘t’. He was reformed sure, a weapon now, molded to their perfect standard, used and abused, raped and pillaged for their own use somewhere in the world, they wanted a monster, masked by something so beautiful and enticing, and so he became one, using his powers at their will. It was a team full of creatures just like him, western Asia’s super weapon.
They assumed that he would continue to stay obedient, assumed he’d bend to their every will, for the rest of his life, but they were not careful, and let him in too close. He became conniving, manipulative, a teacher’s pet with a vendetta against the system and so he took the teacher’s job. Worked his way up until he was eye to eye to those that made him. And then, he destroyed them, and oh, how Olympus has fallen. He left with his life, though he cannot say much for the others. They had taken it all from him, he had no memories of what was before them, no images of family, of what an actual life was. Just a name. His grandfather was long gone, not that he knew, not that he cared, but he took what was given to him, a bank account, frozen until he was eighteen, when he was supposed to return, about 110 million yen, what was left of what they had, a supposed consolidation for abandoning the child, his grandmother fine and comfortable and she came looking, more than once she came looking and each time he left, ran far away from her, he didn’t know her never knew her, not like she wanted. He had become something absent of emotions, absent of memories, he was just a surname, but a name he could not live up to. Thus, he became someone else, just as they wanted.
He wandered on his own a bit, finding solace in the underground, and a band of misfits just like him. But touring, guitar shredding and becoming a confidant didn’t scratch that itch they had created for him. The itch to draw blood, hear torturous screams and extract the information that he wanted. The woman he had met had humanized him, made him feel less of a robot, less of a monster, showed him that he could make genuine connections even if they felt idle or like autopilot. Though, those thoughts still persisted, so he sought out ways to cure his hunger, more like the chef that could cook up such a feast had found him, a tragic case, sucked into another tragedy.
INTERVIEW QUESTION (para sample): “Just run us through what happened that night”. - Officer
Akuyoshi spit on the ground and slumped back in his chair. The officers furrowed their brows, though fear was apparent of their faces. “We know who you are.” One of them spoke in English, the demon only erupted into a dark laugh, one that drained the color from the younger officers face. “Good.” His Russian accent was sharp, cutting through them like sharpened blades.
“If you want information, you wont get it from me.” He said tilting his head back, wet, sweat covered strands falling from his face. The ex agent had already began picking the lock on the cuffs behind him, brow ticking as they came unlocked. It was in a blink of an eye, blood splattered his face and the ceiling, the elder officer going to the ground with his hand grasping at his throat in panic, the one that was left only looked at him in horror, frozen in place and unable to run to safety, and Aku took the opportunity, taking both of his cheeks in his palms before twisting his wrist, the sound of the snap satisfying.
He disappeared in a cloud of dark smoke, before appearing before the camera that filmed the interview room, “Bozhe pomiluy svoyu dushu,” he said darkly, the word echoing off the walls like the demon’s father had began to ascend before he snatched it from the wall the last thing the overseers seeing was his large smile spreading towards his ears.
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Enough Pt. 14
A/N: Hey guys! Here is the new update for Enough! I hope you guys enjoy it and as always I enjoy receiving feedback! Please don’t hold back and let me know what you guys think! Also, I did my own gif lol I could not find what i wanted for this chapter, so I decided to ‘make’ my own. Please don’t judge me too harshly, I am not tech savvy xD
Mina and Suho were kind enough to pick you up from the airport once you arrived at Seoul. They were being very tentative with the way they spoke to you and it annoyed you that they were treating you like a ticking time bomb. You tried to ignore it and smile as much as possible without it looking fake. You tried to keep up with the conversation as Suho drove you to your house. Mina was updating you on how her doctor appointments were going and you were genuinely happy to hear about your future niece or nephew. They insisted on taking you out to dinner but you were tired and just wanted to go home and sleep. Suho and Mina shared a look and agreed to drop you off home.
Pulling up to your apartment you felt a strange wave of sadness overcome you when you realized that you actually moved. You’re back in Seoul, away from what means the world to you. Suho helped you with one of your suitcases as you rolled the other one up to your apartment. Mina tagged along, insisting on helping even though you refused to let her carry anything heavy. You opened the door with the new code your building manager gave you and you were surprised to see how it looked exactly the same. You don’t know what you were expecting, since no one entered your apartment during your time away. But you definitely were not expecting to feel an emptiness. The place that once felt like home now felt like a foreign place to you.
“Okay, well I guess you don’t have much to unpack. Do you want us to stay and help?” Mina offered, feeling bad about leaving you alone
“No, it’s fine. You guys have done enough for me. Go home and rest, you must be tired.” You say, rubbing Mina’s stomach in a loving manner.
“If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call.” Suho said and gave you a pointed look, which made you smile.
“Of course. Thank you guys, really.” You gave them a smile, not knowing what you would do without them.
“Okay, good night.” Mina gave you a strong goodbye hug, making you emotional all of a sudden.
You walked them to the door and bid them farewell, thankful to be left alone. You sat on your couch and closed your eyes, exhaling a long breath. The last 36 hours replaying in your head like a movie.
When you arrived at the Friends Corp. building you were nervous and full of jitters, not knowing if you were going to see Jaehyun or not. You walked to the HR office to return your employee badge and access card. You then proceeded to go to Wendy’s office, saying goodbye to her and answering her questions about why you were leaving all of a sudden. You gave her a brief explanation as to why you were headed back to Seoul and kept an eye out to see if you saw Jaehyun. Once you were done talking to Wendy you went down the hall to look for Johnny and Mark, hoping that Jaehyun might be with them.
“Noona, I just can’t believe that you’re leaving. Why?” Mark asked, extremely sad that you were leaving.
“I know, we didn’t even have time to throw you a going away party or anything.” Johnny whines, still not believing that you were actually leaving.
“Wait! Does Jaehyun know?” Mark asked, realizing that he wasn’t there.
“Wait, he called out sick this morning.” Johnny says, trying to put the puzzle pieces together. “Did something happen?” He questions.
Your eyes welled up with tears as you look at your two friends and you try with all your might not to cry in front of them.
“Um, Jaehyun and I broke up last night.” You say in a whisper, hoping that if you don’t say it too loudly it isn’t true.
“WHAT?” Both men exclaimed, shocked at the news that their two great friends broke up.
“Why? What Happened?” Mark questioned, not believing that this happened.
“There were just some… issues we could not work through, and I have a lot of projects waiting for me in Seoul that cannot wait.” You explained, not wanting to get into the details.
“Damn I’m sorry.” Johnny says, giving you a hug.
“You guys can come and visit me any time.” You say with a small smile. You say your final goodbyes and leave the building, a dull ache in your chest.
It does not surprise you that Jaehyun was not at work but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t sad. You were really hoping to see him to at least give him an explanation. It would have been ideal if you did that at your apartment, but you were frozen in place, just watching your life crumble around you. You were angry with yourself for not fighting for your relationship; for not fighting to keep Jaehyun in your life and saving your relationship.
The whole process of getting to the airport, going through security and finding your gate was all done on autopilot. Your mind was not present and your body was just going with the motions. Namjoon got you a seat on Business Class and you were thankful because all you wanted to do during your 15 hour flight was sleep and cry with some privacy. And that is exactly what you did. Plus watch a movie or two once your eyes burned from all the crying you did. Thankfully once you landed you had regained some control over your emotions, so Suho and Mina did not know of what you did on the plane. You’re pretty sure they had an idea though because you were uncharacteristically quiet.
You had not realized you were crying until your body was shaking with sobs, tears streaming down your face. You hated feeling sorry for yourself. You felt pathetic and dumb and crying was not going to fix anything. Crying was not going to take you back to New York and fix everything, it’s not going to take you to that night and not let Jaehyun go until this was resolved. It’s not going to take you back to the moment Chanyeol entered your life again and put up your walls to keep him out completely. Even though crying was not going to fix your broken heart, you could not help it. Your sobs echoed in your apartment, filling the empty spaces around you. With a trembling body, you made your way to the bathroom and took a shower. The hot water helped relax your tense muscles and wash away the grime from the long plane ride. You were grateful to come home to a clean apartment, courtesy of Namjoon and the company. The time you spent in the shower was enough to relax you into a sleepy lull. You were exhausted from the plane ride, the crying and all the events that took place. You closed your eyes and hoped that sleep would soon envelop you and temporarily make you forget about everything that happened.
_________
“Noona! I am so happy you are back!” Jungkook greets you with a tight hug the second you enter the building. You can't help the laugh that escapes your lips at his tactics, the sound sounding foreign to your own ears.
“Kookie! Look at you! I wasn’t gone a full year and look how buff you got.” You say playfully, pinching his bicep.
“I have been hitting the gym with my hyungs. I wanted to be buff for when you came back.” He says, jokingly flexing his muscles.
“Okay gym rat.” You say with an eye roll, headed to the elevators.
You were greeted by all your coworkers, pleasantries exchanged as you made your way to your office. You felt strange in your office but you knew the feeling would go away soon. Once you were back in your routine and submerge yourself in your projects, you knew the feeling would go away. You heard a knock on your door and you whip your head towards the noise, heart hammering in your chest.
“Hey! Can I come in?” Namjoon asks, hovering by the doorway.
“Yes, of course.” You say, heart still hammering. You were stupid to think it was Jaehyun knocking at your door. Old habits die hard.
“I emailed you the new projects that need to be handled first. After that, you can choose the order in which you complete the other ones.” Namjoon explains, noticing the lack of a smile on your face.
“Sounds great, I’ll get right to it.” You say with a small smile, giving your attention back to your computer.
“Is everything Okay?” Namjoon asks, noticing your odd behavior.
“Yes, everything is fine. I’m just a little tired, I’m not used to the time difference yet.” You say, hoping he’d take that explanation.
“Okay, well pace yourself and take it easy.” He gives you one last knowing glance before he leaves your office.
And just like that you shut yourself out of the real world and immerse yourself in your work, something you were good at and wouldn’t sabotage.
________
“Get up. Now!” Mina says as she pulls the comforter off your body.
“What the hell Mina? How did you get into my apartment?” You complain, the bright sunlight burning your eye balls.
“Because I know your pin, genius! Now get up, you’re not going to spend the whole weekend wallowing in self pity. We are going for a nice walk to the Han river.” She says matter-of-factly, looking cute in her exercise clothes.
“No.” You reply, trying to snatch the comforter back.
“I said get up, I’m not playing with you! Don’t you know you’re not supposed to make a pregnant woman angry?” She questions, smacking your but hard.
“Ouch!” You whine, kicking your feet like a toddler. “Mina, I don’t want to go to the Han river, I just want to stay here. Leave me alone!” You whine, wishing she wasn’t a good friend right now and would let you rot in your apartment.
“Bitch if you don’t get up I swear I will punch you, you know I will! Me being pregnant is not going to change the fact that I will beat your ass.” She threatens. You know not to mess with Mina because she will beat you up if you make her angry enough.
“Fine! Fine! I’ll fucking go. But just so you know I will hate it and I will complain the whole time!” You huff, getting out of bed and heading for your closet.
“That’s what I thought.” Mina says, satisfied with herself. She doesn’t like to get violent but she will if she needs to.
You come out of your closet dressed in a jogger set, glaring daggers at a smug Mina.
“See? That wasn’t so hard.” She smiles, making you roll your eyes at her.
“You’re lucky you're pregnant with my niece or nephew.” You say, making her laugh.
“Okay, let’s go before it gets any later.” She says in a sing-song voice, annoying you already.
The walk along the Han river was actually very relaxing, but of course you would not admit that to Mina. You enjoyed the breeze hitting your face, alleviating the perpetual weight you felt in your chest. You inhaled the cool air and blamed the stinging in your eyes to the cold wind.
After a nice and relatively quiet walk, you agreed to get some lunch with Mina. she needed to eat because she was eating for two and could not skip any meals. Suho actually had set up reminders on her phone, much to her annoyance. You thought it was cute though, Suho was very immaculate with the things he cared about.
After eating some jjajangmyun, you went to some shops to buy a few items you needed as well as some groceries. You had been ordering take out all week since you got back to Seoul and you decided it was time you started cooking again.
“I can’t believe you have been eating take out this whole time! You are insane.” Mina chastises as you make your way up your apartment building, grocery bags in tow.
“Yeah I know.” You huff, not wanting to be lectured by your best friend. At least she has that aspect of motherhood down.
“Thanks for helping me out today. And for taking me out for a walk.” You say once you have put all your groceries away, Mina getting ready to leave.
“No problem. You know I’m always here for you. Don’t hesitate to call, okay?” She says.
You nod and give her a hug and kiss her belly before she leaves, leaving you alone once again. This time however, you did not feel as empty as you had been, which I guess is a good thing.
_________
“Are you sure I need to go? I can stay here, I really don’t mind.” You say to Namjoon, hoping he would let you have your way.
“What? No! What are you saying? I sent you over there to oversee this whole project and now you’re saying you don’t want to go? Don’t be ridiculous! Our investors are expecting to see you there, a lot of people are. I’m sorry but you’re not getting out of this and that’s final.” Namjoon rants, not believing what he is hearing at this moment.
“Okay, I’m sorry.” You sigh, you didn’t like making Namjoon upset.
“We leave in two days, so if you don’t have a dress already, please go buy one. The company gave you a card with a wardrobe budget for events like this. Use it.” He commands, not taking no for an answer.
“Okay, I will.” You put your hands up in surrender, already hating the thought of going shopping. Normally, you’d love to go shopping with Mina. But as her due date is approaching, Suho has been even more overprotective than usual and does not want her going out and doing too much. So now you are left to go alone and you completely hate that.
“Hey Noona!” Jungkook greets cheerily, sitting down on the chair in front of you.
“Hi Kookie.” You greet, moving the food around on your plate. Just the thought of returning to New York after three months of being back in Seoul is enough to make you lose your appetite.
“Are you excited about going to New York with Joon hyung?” He asks, oblivious to your sour mood.
“Not really. I still need to buy a dress.” You groan, pushing the food tray away from you.
Jungkook gives you a pointed look and swallows a mouthful of rice.
“I can go dress shopping with you.” He offers, giving you a sweet Jungkook smile.
“Won’t you get bored?” You chuckle at his ridiculous offer.
“Of course not! I’d never get bored while hanging out with you noona.” He says, warming your heart a little.
“Well I have to go tonight. Are you available after work?” You ask, not believing that you are actually taking him up on his offer.
“Of course! We shall meet at the lobby at the end of the day. There are some good shops in Gangnam that we can go to.” He offers with a smile.
“Okay, sounds like a plan.” You say, a small smile creeping on your face.
“Now eat. You’re too skinny.” Jungkook pushes your food tray back to you, making you roll your eyes at his antics.
You did manage to eat your food however, some of the previous nerves ebbing away.
At the end of your work day you made your way to the lobby of the building where Jungkook was waiting for you.
“Noona! Ready to go?” He asks, opening the door for you.
“Yes, let’s get this over with.” You say, Jungkook whining at your lack of enthusiasm.
You guys took the subway to Gangnam and Jungkook pointed out some shops that he knew had some nice dress selections.
“I don’t know Kookie, these dresses seem a bit…. Extravagant.” You say, looking through the racks of dresses.
“Noona, it is an extravagant event, so you need to dress the part.” Jungkook says, holding up a dress for you to see. You scrunch your nose and shake your head no to the insultingly revealing dress.
“Come on! You gotta show some skin.” He whines, making you laugh.
“Jungkook, are you sure you did not just come with me so you can see me in a skimpy dress?” You accuse, laughing when you see Jungkook turn a slight shade of incriminating pink.
“Noona~!” He whines, he did not do it for that reason but he will admit it was a perk.
“What do you think of this one?” You ask, pulling a silk dress from the rack.
Jungkook looks at it for a few seconds and nods, thinking it's a good contender.
You looked at the reflection in the mirror and smiled, liking what you see. The dress was a beautiful midnight blue. It had a plunging V neckline with necktie straps, a partially open back and a high slit that showed a hint of skin. You felt beautiful and sexy and you hoped that the dress caught the attention of a certain someone that was going to be at the gala.
You open the door to the dressing room and twirl the fabric around, showing the dress to Jungkook.
“Whoa noona, you look amazing.” Jungkook exclaims, eyes roaming your figure in the dress. You looked amazing in it, like the dress was made just for you.
“It’s not too much?” You ask, feeling the silky material in between your fingers.
“Not at all! It’s perfect. You’re perfect noona.” He smiles, making you blush at the compliment.
“You’re too sweet Kookie. Okay, I guess this is it. I’m sick of dress shopping.” You say, heading back to the dressing room.
“We have only been shopping for like an hour and a half.” He laughs, thinking it was funny that a girl did not enjoy spending hours shopping.
Once you had paid, Jungkook convinced you to go out for some drinks and dinner. You were hesitant, not really in the mood to socialize. Even though three months had passed, you were still hurting from your breakup with Jaehyun and you just wanted to go home, drink too much wine and pass out. Jungkook thought that the sound of that was ridiculous and convinced you to do otherwise. You went to a trendy place that had recently opened up and it was full of young people drinking and having a good time.
Jungkook was fun company and you were enjoying his conversation. It was really helping you keep your mind off of things but you were not keeping track of how many shots of soju you were shooting back. You had pent up frustration and sadness that you needed something to numb it.
“Whoa noona, are you okay?” Jungkook asks, eyeing your swaying form.
“Of course Kookie! I am doing grrrreat!” You say, imitating Tony the Tiger.
Jungkook laughs as he moves the soju bottle away from your grasp.
“Okay Noona, I think that I need to get you home. You are done for the night.” Jungkook pays for the bill and helps you up, offering to carry your garment bag and purse. He had your arm draped around his neck as he maneuvered you out of the restaurant and out to the uber he requested.
“Okay noona, just rest your head and don’t make sudden movements.” Jungkook Instructed, making sure you wouldn’t vomit in the car.
Jungkook struggled to help you out of the car and to your apartment. You were very dizzy and had to stop twice because you thought you were going to throw up. Getting into your apartment was an even bigger challenge because you could not punch in the right code. So after a few minutes of trying, you were actually able to open the door.
“Okay noona, I put the garment bag in your closet. Do you need anything before I leave?” Jungkook asks, making sure you were not going to fall over.
“No, thank you Kookie, you’re the best.” You say, pulling him in for a tight hug.
“Of course. I had fun with you today.” He says, giving you a small squeeze.
He was about to pull away when you pull him back in for a kiss, taking him by surprise. He did not react at first but soon enough he reciprocated the kiss. You pull him closer, if that was possible, and let your hands roam his chest. You lightly moaned into his mouth, hands reaching under his shirt to touch his skin. Your hands were starting to lift his shirt up when Jungkook finally realized the turn of events.
“Noona, noona hold on.” He murmurs against your lips, trying to stop your wandering hands.
“What? You don’t want this?” You ask, biting your lip and looking up at him from under your eye lashes.
“Noona, I think you are very attractive and trust me, I would love to go further with you but you are drunk. And I don’t think you are in a good place for this right now. I’ve noticed that something is wrong and if I were to ever… sleep with you, I’d want to make sure it was right.” He says, placing your hands by your sides and giving you a small reassuring smile.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to come on to you like that.” You say, tears welling up in your eyes.
“Hey, it’s okay. Don't cry, it’s okay. I’m not upset.” He says, taking you to the couch and gently sitting down next to you.
“I just, I went through a hard breakup and I am feeling very emotional. I don’t know what to do or how to feel. I’m sorry I roped you like this. I appreciate you so much Jungkook. I really do. And I roped you into all of this.” You say, the guilt creeping in from attacking Kook the way you did.
“Noona, it’s fine. If you ever need anyone to talk to, I’m here for you. We are friends.” He gives you a small smile, squeezing your shoulder. “Are you feeling better?” He asks, noticing that you looked more sober.
“Yeah, I do feel a lot better. Thank you for today, I really needed it.” You say, giving him another hug.
“Any time. I’m heading out. Have a fun time in New York. you’re going to be the belle of the ball.” He says with a cheesy wink, making you laugh.
After Jungkook left you decided to take a shower to clear your head and sober up. You needed to pack for your trip to New York because you did not want to be doing it last minute. The thought of seeing Jaehyun again made your heart beat uncontrollably in your chest, stomach churning uncomfortably. You knew it was going to be awkward but you were really hoping you could see him and speak to him. You were so tired from all the overthinking and drinking that you went straight to sleep without realizing it.
_________
“You okay?” Namjoon asks, looking at your silent form next to him on the airplane.
“Yes, I’m fine.” You say, closing your eyes and trying to ignore the people still boarding the airplane. You wish you could close the door to your seats.
You were not in the best of moods but you didn’t want to project that to Namjoon. Your head was still whirring with chagrin at the thought of coming on to Jungkook the other night at your apartment. He had made it clear he was not mad and that it was not going to be weird between the two of you. And you also had the prospect of seeing Jaehyun again, which had your heart hammering and your stomach feeling nauseous. It was going to be a long flight and you did not want to be a bummer to Namjoon.
“I’m not stupid, you know? I know we have a professional relationship but I like to think we are friends too.” Namjoon gives you a pointed look, a clear indication that he was not going to drop it until you talked to him about it.
“We are friends Joon.” You sigh, looking at him between the seat divider. He raised his eyebrow, a silent sign for you to go on.
You took a deep breath before you delved into the story. Telling him about Chanyeol to that ending and then to Jaehyun and how you sabotaged that. You told him about Chanyeol being back in the picture, how he was Loey and why you were dreading this whole event. He was stunned at the story, of how you kept this from him all this time. If you really wanted to stay back from the gala, he would have considered it because he did not want you to be uncomfortable.
It felt good to talk about the whole thing with someone, a great pressure lifting from your chest. You had killed a good three hours talking to Namjoon about your situation, you had dinner and you were starting to feel tired. You were glad that you had Namjoon with you now that he knew about what happened. You just hoped that you could survive this thing.
___
“Okay so after dinner, the performances are going to start. The opening act will be Loey and Ara.” Wendy gives you the run down as she walks you to your table.
“Sounds great, let me know if there’s something else you need me to do. I have my phone with me.” You tell her, approaching the table. You look around and notice the slightly different people sitting at the table.
“What, um, is this the original table I was supposed to sit at?” You ask Wendy, remembering that you created the seating chart with her.
“Oh.” She starts hesitantly, going slightly pink. “Yeah it is, but Jaehyun asked to be moved to a different table.” She says, looking visibly uncomfortable.
“Oh!” You say, trying to ignore the pain in your gut that made you feel winded. You thank her for guiding you to your table and taking a seat, greeting the people in your table. Namjoon was sitting there so you were glad you were with someone that you felt comfortable with.
You tried to focus on the conversation taking place at the table and not on the fact that Jaehyun asked to change tables. You understood why he did it, but it didn’t hurt any less. You tried to be discreet while you looked around to see if you could find Jaehyun, but it was hard to locate him. You reprimand yourself for being so unprofessional, remembering that you were not here just as a guest but you also have responsibilities in this event.
After dinner you went to look for Wendy so you could get ready to begin the musical acts of the night.
“Everyone, we want to thank you for being here tonight. Your support and contributions to the opening of this pop up shop. This would not be possible to everyone’s contribution. So without further ado, Miss Wendy Son will be presenting the acts for tonight!” You say, passing the microphone over to Wendy as she steps up to the stage, a dazzling smile gracing her face.
“We all know everyone has been anxious for our opening act, so without any more delay, I present Ara and Loey!” She presents, the crowd roaring with applause.
The two of you made your way off the stage and made your way to your seats again, waiting for the show to start.
You glance around one more time before Loey and Ara hit the stage and you finally find what you are looking for. You see Jaehyun sitting at a table close to the stage, surrounded by people from his department plus Johnny and Mark. You made eye contact with him and you felt like your stomach dropped to your knees. He only held the eye contact for a few seconds before turning to the woman next to him and smiling at something she was saying. You recognize her from the PR team, which made sense that she was at the same table as him. You tried to normalize your breathing as you look at the stage again, the lights of the room dimming and the music blasting from a speaker.
All the performances were spectacular, Loey and Ara definitely were the highlight. They did a spectacular job with their duet, the crowd amazed when Loey was revealed. Ara also had a solo and there were other bands and artists performing. The performances lasted about forty five minutes total, leading to the final portion of the gala which was just dancing and drinks. You tried to make your way towards Jaehyun’s table but you were stopped by some of the investors, wanting to congratulate you on your collaboration of the gala and the opening of the pop up shop. You were trying to be a gracious host, but you noticed that Jaehyun was no longer seated at his table.
You knew it was very unprofessional to be looking around while having investors and members of the board speak to you, but you were looking through the crowd trying to find Jaehyun.
You were finally left alone and you decided to do a lap around the reception hall, hoping you can find the person you’re looking for and without interruption. You were trying to get by people without touching their sweaty bodies and without getting stopped again. After a futile attempt you make your way to the back table, wanting to get some punch because you were too thirsty from all the talking you did. You felt a finger poke you on the side and you whir around, anticipation clouding your mind.
“Hey, you look amazing.” Chanyeol says, dazzling smile highlighted by his new platinum hair.
“Hey, new hair?” You ask, not knowing what to say.
“Yeah I decided to do something different for the gala. You like?” He asks, twirling around and showing you a 360 degree view of his haircut and outfit. He had changed out of his performance outfit and into a black tux paired with a white shirt and a black bow tie.
He looked very good, you give him that, but you were not in the mood to engage in conversation with him.
“Yeah you look good.” You say with a smile, glancing behind him to see if Jaehyun was behind him. You did not want the night to end before you could at least greet him.
“There you are! We need to go with Namjoon, he wants to present us to a possible investor.” Wendy says as she approaches you, noticing that you were with Chanyeol after she was speaking a mile a minute.
“Oh, hello Mr. Park.” She greets with a bow, embarrassed at interrupting the conversation.
“Hi miss Son, no worries. I know you are busy ladies. I’ll leave you to it. I guess I should look for Ara and make sure she is okay.” Chanyeol says, bowing once before leaving.
You follow Wendy to where Namjoon was, passing many people along the way and greeting them with smiles and hellos. You caught a glimpse of Jaehyun with a group from the HR department. He looked gorgeous with his charcoal grey suit, white shirt and dark red bow tie. You once again made eye contact with him, but it was very short since you had to keep moving to keep up with Wendy and not lose her in the mass of people.
It was about an hour later when you were finally free. You were walking with intent even though your feet were screaming. You frantically looked around the hall, hoping to find Jaehyun. You noticed Mark and Johnny hanging out by a wall, speaking to each other. You march towards them hoping that they know where he is.
“Hey guys, how are you?” You ask, approaching the dapper young men.
“Noona! You look so awesome!” Mark says, giving you a hug.
“Thanks Mark.” You smile, ruffling the boys hair.
“You did an incredible job! But you have been very busy, I noticed that you were speaking to people non stop all night.” Johnny says, giving you a hug as well.
“Yeah it’s been a pretty crazy night. Hey, have you seen Jaehyun by chance?” You ask, feeling bad for cutting the conversation short, but you really wanted to find him.
Johnny and Mark shared a look, something made you feel like it wasn’t a good sign.
“Yeah he left about a half hour ago.” Johnny says awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Oh, I see. Well, he must be tired too, he also played a big role in all of this.” You say, trying to mask the disappointment in your voice.
“Yeah he was. Well we are heading out too. Have a good night and a safe flight back to Seoul.” Johnny says, hugging you.
“We are going to come visit you, okay?” Mark says, giving you a reassuring hug.
“Yes please, I really want you guys to come.” You say with a smile, bidding them goodbye.
You stand where they left you, mind blank and eyes not focusing on anything. You could not believe that he was gone. Just like that. So this was it. No chance of speaking to him again. You did not know when you were going to see him again and you were too big of a coward to call him. Besides, what you wanted to say was better if you did it in person and not over the phone. You felt defeated and thought it was time to go to your hotel so you could take a shower and drink all the contents of the mini bar. You were so busy tonight you didn’t even get a chance to fully enjoy yourself and have at least one drink.
You found Namjoon and told him you were going to head over to the hotel, deciding that it was time to call it a night.
You were waiting for your town car to come to the front of the building when you hear someone calling your name.
“Hey! I was trying to get your attention since before you left the building. Did you not hear me?” Chanyeol asks as he jogs up to you, breath visible in the cold night.
“Oh, sorry, I did not hear you.” You say, looking out for your car.
“Are you crying?” He asks, peering at your face.
“No.” You say, not realizing you had been crying, a few stray tears running down your face.
“Uh, okay. Well I sort of wanted to get a dance with you.” Chanyeol tries, getting closer to you and placing a hand on your arm.
“Chanyeol, I’m not in the mood right now. I just want to go to my hotel, I’m exhausted.” You say, biting your lip in an effort to hold your tears in.
“Hey, hey look at me.” He says gently, lifting your face to look at him. “Are you okay?” He asks again, emphasizing the ‘okay’.
You feel your lip quivering and shake your head no, tears finally overflowing.
He hugs you into his chest, feeling your body shake in his hold. You cry into his shirt, hoping that you would not stain it.
Chanyeol held you and felt his heart squeeze; he did not know why you were crying but he hated seeing you like this. All he wanted to do from now on is be there for you, whenever you wanted or needed him, he would be there. Just like he always should have.
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#jaehyun series#jaehyun angst#chanyeol series#chanyeol angst#jung jaeyun#jaehyun smut#nct 127#nct127 smut#jaehyun and you#jaehyun x you#chanyeol and you#chanyeol x you#chanyeol and reader#chanyeol x reader#jaehyun and reader#jaehyun x reader#exo series#nct series#nct 127 series#bts#jungkook#multi au#multi fandom
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No Time To Die
This is my entry for Olicity clue by @olicitytropes. I hope you can guess the prompts I was given even though I ran away with them as usual.
Felicity Smoak was accustomed to walking home in the dead of night. Her small townhome was on the outskirts of the Glades, the city’s most disreputable area. Usually she could drive her Mini to and from Queen Consolidated, but last month they had caught her speeding for the third time and taken her licence away. Now, she was forced to take the bus every day. At first it had been weird and scary for a woman who loved driving but after awhile she had gotten used to it.
Thankfully, the bustop was not far and on the way, there was a very famous strip club which had bouncers built like tanks in front. She felt safe walking by the Huntress because she knew that if she needed help she could always run towards it. Helena Bertinelli, the owner of the club, was a bitch and crazier than a bag of cats but everyone said that she was a passionate defender of women’s rights. Helena reserved all her wrath for men. Specifically, the Italian mobsters who had killed her fiance a few years before.
Felicity turned left on the corner and reached inside her bag for the pepper spray. This street was not well-lit so she had to be extra careful. She walked slowly but with purpose and kept her head on a swivel. That one was Roy’s suggestion and when she had admitted that she had no clue what it meant, he had alternated between genuine surprise at her lack of sports knowledge and scolding for losing her driving licence. Since Roy was the most street savvy person she knew, she had chosen not to antagonize him and follow his advice.
Walking by the huge dumpster, Felicity heard a grunt and a groan. Probably some poor animal suffering. Roy had warned her about stopping in the Glades so she took a deep breath and decided to ignore it. The grunt was louder the next time. Her curiosity got the better of her and she approached it carefully.
A leg became slowly visible. A long leg dressed in very distinctive green leather trousers. She blinked but the strange sight didn’t go away.
Felicity tilted her head and examined him. Lying on the trash, out cold but still breathing judging by the rise and fall of his chest, was Starling City’s resident vigilante. Her mind blanked for a few seconds. Then she pulled her phone out before she could second-guess herself.
“What’s up, Blondie?”
Roy’s voice was calm even though she interrupted his date night with Thea. She didn’t want to ruin that but she had no one else to call. And certainly, no one else who she could trust with a secret like this.
“Hi Scarecrow. Are you with Thea?”
“Yes.”
“Can you get out for a few minutes? I need help carrying something to my house.”
“Blondie, if it’s another Robin Hood framed poster you should know that-”
“Oh no, it’s nothing like that. Please, come. And Roy? Don’t tell Thea where you’re going.”
“Are you in trouble, Blondie?”
“Sort of. I’ll explain everything as soon as you’re here.”
“Where exactly is here?”
“On 7th. Behind the Huntress. Hurry!”
Roy let out a filthy curse commenting on her tendency to get into trouble and hung up without saying goodbye.
Felicity didn’t have to wait long - thankfully Roy and Thea were hanging out at his place tonight - before he showed up. She had stood still as a statue, guarding him, armed with pepper spray and determination.
When Roy saw who was on the ground behind her, his eyes widened like saucers reminding her of a cartoon.
“Are you crazy?” he asked in a furious whisper.
“Perhaps. Can you help me move him to my house? It’s not far.”
“I should call the police right now. This guy is crazy, Blondie.”
“No, he isn’t.” She didn’t know why she felt so strongly about the subject.
“He has killed a lot of people. Lance is searching for him everywhere and you want to, what? Live a Robin Hood fantasy with him?”
Felicity narrowed her eyes. For the first time she wondered if trusting Roy had been a good idea.
“People who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That when I started hanging out with you, everyone told me that you were a thief and a junkie. I gave you the benefit of the doubt and now you and Thea are my friends. You’re the only family I’ve got in Starling. Which would have never happened if I had heeded all these warnings. Doesn’t he deserve the same consideration?”
“Fine. Save me the guilt trip. But if Lance knocks on my door tomorrow with a warrant, I’m not covering for you.”
“Deal,” she beamed at him.
There was one slight problem with the plan. Lifting and carrying a 6'1", 180 lbs guy was easier said than done. In the end they decided to carry him standing up as if he were drunk which wouldn’t bring much attention in this neighborhood.
“Wow, he’s really heavy. Do you think it’s all muscles?”
“Somehow, I don’t think vigilantes come with beer bellies,” Roy panted.
The distance they had to cover was minimal all things considered but it seemed like an eternity to her. Roy didn’t say much, just carried the burden silently which made her regret the fact that she had cancelled her own gym subscription last month. By the time they reached the townhouse, they were both sweaty and exhausted. Felicity had trouble putting one foot in front of the other and had to promise herself two pints of chocolate mint chip as motivation.
Roy had to support the vigilante by himself until she could find her keys, a fact he did not appreciate, judging by his surly expression. Felicity unlocked the door quickly and helped him carry the man inside.
“Do you think your neighbors saw us, Blondie?”
She shook her head and threw her bag on the floor. “No way. It’s too late. The only one who cares about my comings and goings is Mrs Fernandez but she is asleep at this hour.”
She took off her heels and focused on the unconscious man who was now dripping blood on her teal couch.
“Is he shot?” she asked Roy.
Roy examined him closely. “Nope. There’s a long gash on his right thigh, however.”
“Like from a sword?” She was equally fascinated and horrified. Lowly IT experts did not lead exciting lives. Her boring night had turned into an adventure.
“Who knows? You can ask him when he comes to.”
Felicity agreed. She fervently hoped she would get the chance to have a discussion with the man, crazy as it might sound.
“Don’t worry. It’s not his time to die.” He got up and considered her. “We’ll need some kind of medkit if we hope to take care of this ourselves.”
“It’s in the upstairs bathroom.”
“I’ll bring it. And all the other necessary items. In the meantime, you should take off his clothes so that we can see the damage.”
Felicity was tempted to peek under the hood.
“Leave the hood on,” Roy warned. “This is one secret you don’t want to learn.”
She considered it for a moment. Mysteries were the worst. They really bugged her and usually served no purpose but to annoy people. On the other hand, this man’s identity was dangerous. She might be a bit reckless but she wasn’t crazy. She had no intention of becoming prime target for all of this guy’s enemies.
She hurried to his side and put a hand on his neck. His pulse was sluggish but it was definitely there. Relieved, she began the process of undressing him. She unzipped the jacket and lifted up his T-shirt to assess the possible damage. His chest was lean but muscular, covered in recent bruises and old scars. Some of his ribs could be cracked or broken but without an MRI machine there was simply no way of knowing. Surprisingly, he had several tattoos but his chest was otherwise smooth. No sign of hair anywhere. She was momentarily riveted by the sight of an honest to God eight pack but she pushed the shirt down and covered him again before she could do something crazy. Like lick him. Right there on each one of his delicious muscles which up until now she had never seen on a living human being.
Felicity shook her head and tried to concentrate. The blood seemed to be coming from his leg like Roy had said and it looked quite fresh. Carefully, she unzipped him and drew the leather trousers down his legs. She had to take his boots off first though. He remained eerily silent, a fact which both relieved and worried her. Underneath he wore black briefs and she couldn’t help but notice that he was beautiful even there. Thick and long by her estimate.
“His wound is several inches to the right.”
Felicity blushed to the roots of her dyed blonde hair. She chose not to respond to Roy’s mocking comment and focused on the task at hand.
“You were right. There is a long gash here. It’s still bleeding.”
“I’ll clean up the wound and sew his leg. I sterilized the equipment as much as I could but considering the circumstances, I think this guy would prefer a little bacterial infection than going to the doctor.”
“I’m guessing the words hospital and police aren’t his favorite.”
Roy smiled at that and did a thorough cleaning of the wound. By then Felicity was ready to gag. It only got worse when he grabbed the needle and thread.
“Step aside, Blondie. You can clean him using the cloth after I’m done.”
“I’m sorry. It’s just… I’m not a fan of pointy things.”
“You should have let him die then.”
She walked to the other side of the living room towards the kitchen.
“Why did you save him?” He sounded genuinely curious.
“Shouldn’t you be more careful? After all, you’re piercing his skin with a needle right now.”
Roy saw through her evasion tactic. It was obvious from the way he clenched his jaw to avoid asking more questions. She wanted to answer him but she couldn’t. The truth was that she didn’t even know herself.
Why had she saved him? Well, obviously she couldn’t leave a defenseless man lying on trash dying slowly on the street. It went against every instinct. But bringing him into her house? That was so not like her. A long time ago she had been impulsive and careless but she had paid for it dearly. This was the first rash decision she had made in years. Felicity took a deep breath and pushed down the memories when they tried to raise ugly their head. Thinking about Cooper wouldn’t help the angry man on her couch.
Anger was the only emotion that he was willing to show. People had described their interactions with him again and again. Those descriptions varied so much that it was as if they were talking about a different guy. But all witnesses had agreed on one thing. This man was furious. Thankfully, he only took it out on thieves, rapists and gang members. Was anger though his only reason? She stared at him trying to discern the man behind the mask.
Roy got up, looking quite pleased with himself. “I did a good job. Your vigilante is gonna live,” he announced.
“He’s not my vigilante, Scarecrow. Go wash up. I’ll clean your patient and take care of him.”
Roy climbed the stairs. “If he wakes up, call me. I need to speak to Thea.”
Felicity sighed at his overprotective tendencies. She took the wet cloth and approached the couch. The Hood, as they called him, had a commanding presence for a knocked out man.
She kneeled on the floor and started cleaning him softly. Considering this man’s life choices could give a girl a headache. Was he completely mad? Did he suffer from some type of mental illness? What kind of sane person roamed the streets at night saving strangers? Life was not a comic book. The Glades were scary and dangerous and despite her earlier bravado, she knew that she had been really lucky tonight.
Her hand moved almost without thought towards his face. She couldn’t see much except for a strong jaw covered in stubble, a pair of juicy lips and a cute mole that didn’t seem to belong on such a masculine face. The mystery was killing her. Surely, he wouldn’t mind if she took a peek? She had saved his life for Google’s sake.
Her hand reached the hood.
She touched the soft green fabric - so different from the rest of his suit - and was about to push it back when his hand grabbed her wrist in a viselike grip.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
Felicity froze like a little girl with the hand in the cookie jar.
“How long have you been awake?”
“Ever since your friend tortured me with the needle.”
Felicity felt outraged on behalf of Roy. “You could try to be a little more grateful. He saved your life.”
“You saved my life,” he rasped, “he was bitching and moaning every step of the way.”
She chuckled despite herself.
“Where am I?”
“My place. I live near the strip club.”
His hand clenched on her wrist. “It’s not a good neighborhood for you.”
She dropped the cloth in a small basin. “That’s the best I can do.”
“Doesn’t QC pay you better than that?”
Felicity’s heart raced. “How do you know where I work?”
He pointed towards her chest. “Your IT badge. I can’t see the name but I know the company logo.”
“Oh. Yeah, I’m just an IT expert. Mostly, I clean computers infested with porn and fix executives’ emails accounts. I wanted the Applied Sciences position that opened up last summer but I lacked one major qualification so I didn’t get it.”
“What did you lack?”
“A dick and balls.”
At her dry retort, he started making a really weird sound. It was almost like wheezing. To her surprise, she realized that she had made the vigilante laugh.
“That doesn’t sound good,” she told him.
“It’s your fault. You’re not supposed to laugh with cracked ribs.”
Felicity winced. He was still holding her hand but she didn’t try to take it back.
“Were you really slashed with a sword?”
“And where would I find a sword in the middle of the Glades?”
“I don’t know Mr. Arrow. Up until last summer you couldn’t find a bow in Starling unless you belonged to an archery club.”
“Touche.”
His voice was familiar. Actually, she couldn’t recognize it because he made sure to speak in a low whisper. But there was something about the way he spoke the words themselves that sounded familiar to her. She tried to see under the hood but it was impossible. The only discernible thing was his lush mouth and that sinful mole.
“I was shot by a lady with a crossbow.”
His words brought her back from daydreaming about his mouth.
“You’re joking!”
“Do I look like a man who jokes?”
“You look like a man who likes to spend his nights dressing in leather and tying people up,” she retorted.
He laughed. Again. Felicity wanted to pump a fist in victory. She got the feeling that he wasn’t a man who laughed often.
“Where is your friend?”
“He went upstairs to clean up and call his girlfriend. He left her rather abruptly to come and save your ungrateful butt.”
His gloved hand was still holding hers, only now he was caressing her absentmindedly.
“My butt is very grateful. Still I would like to leave before he returns. Can you help me dress?”
“You’ve lost a lot of blood. Roy was raised in the Glades. He’s not going to rat you out. You can stay here until morning.”
He appeared thoughtful for a few moments. “Very well. But it would be best not to tell him I’m awake when he comes back.”
He released her hand, promptly closed his eyes and appeared unconscious for all intents and purposes. Felicity was about to check his pulse when she realized the reason for subterfuge. Roy was coming down the stairs.
“Is he awake, Blondie?”
“Nope. You can go back to Thea. I don’t think he’s going to wake up anytime soon.”
“No way. I’m not leaving you alone with this lunatic.”
Her vigilante had tensed since the moment Roy approached but now he managed to radiate anger even as still as he was. Felicity put a hand on his uninjured leg.
“I don’t believe he’s crazy, Roy.”
“Then?”
“He’s a man of strong convictions. I imagine there must be something powerful behind his decision to go out at night and hunt criminals.”
Roy stared at her as if she had lost her mind.
“Don’t worry, Scarecrow. I do not approve of his methods. I only said I understand him a little.”
“You’re scaring me, Blondie. I think you better go and lie down. It’s after 10 and you have to work tomorrow.”
“There’s no way I’m leaving him. I’ll put on my pyjamas and lie on the chair. I spend most of my nights on that thing anyway.”
Roy was about to argue when his cell phone rang. He picked up. Pacing back and forth, he whispered furiously for awhile. Apparently, the news was bad.
“Thea got herself into trouble. What is it with the women in my life tonight? Is it a full moon or something?”
“Is she ok?”
“Yeah. She had a car accident going home. I told her not to drive her brother’s Porsche but she never listens.”
Felicity looked frantically for her phone. “Is she hurt? I need to call her now!”
“Don’t call her. She’s just scared because when Moira hears about it, she’s gonna be grounded for a year. She’s not hurt but the car is busted.”
“Can you wait until I change? Then you can leave.”
Roy waited patiently while she washed herself in the sink and changed into clean pyjamas. This night was by far the weirdest in her life and it was not over yet. She hurried downstairs fearing that Roy would discover her vigilante was awake. The panic she felt at the thought of betraying his trust should have scared her. Instead it made her feel alive for the first time in years.
“Are you sure you’ll be ok, Blondie?”
She rolled her eyes playfully. “Go get your girl, Scarecrow. Keep me updated.”
He left with a final order, “Keep your phone with you at all times”.
She resisted rolling her eyes again. Going closer to the actual superhero in her living room, she fake-whispered, “He left. You can quit the acting now.”
He opened his eyes and since the hood was now pushed back she finally got the chance to see his eyes. His gorgeous cerulean blue eyes. Life was so unfair sometimes.
“Is Thea Queen ok?”
His question was surprising. According to the media, the vigilante was not a fan of the city’s one percent.
“She had an accident but she’s not injured. Her brother’s car is totaled though.”
He looked like he was about to comment on that before he reconsidered.
“I thought you didn’t like Starling’s rich and famous?”
“Innocent teenage girls aren’t my enemy.” His voice was still low but his tone was hard.
“I’m sorry,” Felicity said. She felt horrible and was about to apologize further when he stopped her.
“It’s fine.”
She looked around, feeling lost. “Can I get you anything?”
“Since I’m about to spend the night, can I have blanket?”
“Oh, I’m so sorry. You’re lying half-naked on my couch and I didn’t even think you might be cold.”
“I spent a lot of time in Russia. Trust me, I’m not cold.”
Startled by the insight into his personal history, she threw him one of her favorite purple blankets and curled up in her chair.
“Really? I’ve never been abroad. What is Russia like?”
He spread the blanket over himself carefully. His movements were good but if Felicity had to guess, she would say that the ribs were giving him trouble. Not that he would ever admit it. Stupid male pride.
“It’s an unwelcoming place. Hard and violent. At least it was for me. I wasn’t there for the sights.”
“What were you there for?”
“Training.” He paused and then whispered reluctantly, “with the Bratva”.
Felicity’s mind raced. “The Russian mob?” she squeaked.
“Yeah.” But he didn’t volunteer any other information and she didn’t want to pressure him.
“Do you believe in God?” she asked out of the blue.
“I suppose. Why?”
“Bethany Snow says that you’re playing god. Judge, jury and executioner.”
“Bethany Snow,” he spat the name, “doesn’t understand the fact that the world is a complicated place. There are people who deal only in extremes. It’s naive to think that anything other than extreme measures is going to stop them.”
“Your world must be really different than mine.”
“I live in that world so that people like you don’t have to,” he countered.
Felicity closed her eyes. The adrenaline rush was wearing off and she was starting to feel the effects of the eventful day. She wasn’t going to sleep of course. Just rest for a minute or two.
“I feel safer with you here.”
“In your house?” He sounded really surprised by the admission.
“In my city,” she mumbled, eyes shut.
“Sleep. I’ll watch over you, Felicity.”
She smiled at his promise and nodded off.
The dawn light was peeking through the window when she opened her eyes next. Her phone was ringing but it wasn’t the alarm clock. She didn’t awake gradually, hitting the snooze button like any other day. Instead she rolled off the chair and her gaze flew to the couch.
Nothing.
The blanket was folded and placed away with care. There was no sign of her unexpected guest. Except for the blood that still covered the couch. He hadn’t been able to erase that at least.
Felicity rubbed her tired eyes and tried to make sense of the events of last night. When she couldn’t, she headed towards the kitchen to make a pot of really strong black coffee. She fired a quick message to Roy promising that she was fine and vigilantless when it suddenly hit her.
Roy had never uttered her real name and she certainly hadn’t introduced herself.
However, he had called her Felicity.
The Hood knew who she was.
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@aaetherius - { Lancelot and Vane! }
send me an otp (headcanons)
Who’s the messiest one: Lancelot. All outsiders looking in would be surprised by it, but everyone who knows them knows that, while the captain of white dragons may be diligent and take utmost care of details in everything else, that wasn’t the case for his messy room or study (though he somehow knows where all his papers are, even if they’re stacked and scattered everywhere). Vane, on the other hand, loves doing household chores and simply tidying things up in general, so his desk and room are one of the best kept places (on the ship or at home in Feendrache). He also helps Lancelot tidy things up, either just in spurts of inspiration to clean or if the other really looks like he needs the help.
Who feels the most uncomfortable about PDA: I don’t think either of them feel uncomfortable at all? I would say Vane is the more flustered of the two when it comes to PDA, partially because he feels embarrassed to show like that in general, but also partially his thoughts on not really expecting or deserving any kind of romantic gesture (looks at vday and white day lines). Though I also think he’s a huge romantic (looks at the picnic from his SSR fates) and can be very boisterous and outgoing in expressing his love for Lancelot (one day he will bridal carry him; cuddle him real close; the good stuff, and all while Arthur and Mordred look on in awe). But Lancelot is also pretty romantic, and I’d argue probably the initiator of a lot of romantic or tender moments (probably 60/40) so I don’t think he’d be uncomfortable with PDA unless he has to show his captain persona in front of royal officials or foreign guests (though I think the king gives them his blessing, even if they don’t know it).
Who's the funniest drunk: Lancelot actually getting drunk is funny in it’s own right, so that in essence would make it his win. Yet I could see both of them letting go of all their inhibitions (read: insecurities) when under the influence in equally interesting ways. Lancelot is probably more of a talkative drunk in my mind; not necessarily spilling every secret he has, but certainly his mouth is unhinged and he can go on about any topic for hours. Vane is a more party and crying drunk; he will make sure everybody is having a good time but also fully indulge himself in fun activities, but catch him when the mood isn’t as bright and he’s crying away every insecurity or even just any thought he has (“this shibe………*sniffles* it was so cute, but i couldn’t pet it;;;” like literally anything about his day he will remember and cry over). Though I also think they’re both sleepy drunks, and as soon as they have one too many, they actually get a good night’s sleep (but not in a very healthy way, and they are gonna regret everything the morning after as they take some pain meds).
Who texts the most: Vane! While they’ve both texted back and forth quite a bit, Vane always texts in the morning and at night to make sure Lancelot has a good day or gets some rest, and also messages him a lot of reminders (either general things he’ll need that day, or just to tell him he loves him, or just like “oh this song i heard reminded me of you!” or a quote that did or something like that). I would like to think that he also sends lots of emojis sometimes, though it’s more to express tone and not to spam (though if they’re texting through LINE then he might spam one too many stickers).
Who has the most embarrassing taste in music: I feel like Lancelot just feels embarrassed over the fact that someone could happen upon his swing collection at any moment, though I also feel like they’d both really enjoy swing or jazz a lot. Maybe the more embarrassing would be if he ever had a punk faze and someone found rock or punk mixed in with the swing and classical music (or if anyone sees him rocking out to Aoidos/Benjamin).
Who reads the most: Lancelot! I feel like reading stimulates Lancelot’s mind, but also gives his mind a total break from work to focus on more uncharted seas of pages, making it maybe one of the better activities for him to relax to while not feeling like he’s indulging too much in himself (he’s exercising his brain after all~). Vane probably likes reading too, though he’s more for reading to people rather than for his own amusement (he admittedly gets tired a bit too quickly when reading a novel).
Who’s better with kids: Vane! While I think they’re both great with kids, and nurturing and fun with them in their own ways, I feel like Vane is the less afraid of the two to tackle everything there is when it comes to babysitting or playing around. He’s quick to be the fun big brother and carry them around on his arms, the reassuring ear whenever they seem hung up on something (and is very good of thinking of answers to questions on the fly, except for “where do babies come from?”), and being both stern but understanding when they get hurt or hurt something (drawing on the walls, breaking vases, etc.). In a next life, he could probably make a really good preschool or elementary school teacher (he’d probably be good with all ages, but the lil ones just adore him y’know?).
Who’s the one that fixes things around the house: I feel like both of them are technically savvy at this, but they both have different approaches. Vane sees a thing broken or the sink is being weird, and he goes headfirst into using what they have around to fix it (or he does go to the store if he knows what will fix it but they don’t have it). Lancelot is more the type to look at the thing that needs fixing, looking up through searches and possibly his memory of this breaking in the past, and then gets everything he needs to fix it (possibly even having multiple solutions ready should he need any backup plans).
Who’s got the weirdest hobby: I would like to say none of their hobbies are very weird. Outsiders may think a man who loves to clean and do laundry is a bit out there, but it’s not a very eccentric hobby either. And maybe studying tactics and collecting weapons could be seen as a bit much, but could also be seen as just working too hard given their main verse jobs. So there’s a bit of weirdness but also a lot of understanding to it, so neither of them really beats out the other.
Who cooks and who cleans up: *points at the first question* Vane has always loved to cook (says the girl who hasn’t read the bistro event yet) and very much loves both being in the kitchen and tidying things up. So, if anything, Vane kind of forces himself into being the one that cooks dinner and cleans up around the house. Though Lancelot certainly tries to tackle both to help Vane out, not wanting the other to overwork himself or take on all the responsibilities, but that’s also if Vane lets him help (less out of a desire to dominate those areas, but rather more out of a “i’m already doing it, and you deserve some rest Lanchan!” type attitude). Though he does certainly let Lancelot in, especially if one of them brings about cooking a new recipe or cleaning up the office as a bonding moment.
#;you and me no matter what! ( lanchan )#;indomitable knight! ( vane )#;hcs#;prompts#( *chef kiss* them )
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