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unholyhelbig · 3 years ago

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*chants* more vampire kate 👏 more vampire kate 👏 more vampire kate 👏 more vampire kate 👏

[A/N: I've got you covered! Finally, some action. Let me know what you guys think!]

Summary: After a close call and a near rescue, Y/N and Kate find themselves closer than ever.

Dt🦇: @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @iwishforausername @lenam07 @kacka84 @littlebluestone @ohmy-godyes

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I Don't Bite Pt. 6 | Kate Bishop x Reader

Half of a moon hung in the sky above you like a discarded fishbone. It provided little light that filtered through the concrete parking garage. Your footfalls echoed around you, there was only one other car in the lot that had been there since you started lending yourself to Stark Industries. It was encased in wet parking tickets that had formed a wad of pink paper over the windshield.

It had been a long time since you stayed late to attend to business, and even longer still since you refused Tommy the security guards offer to escort you to your car, favoring for the pointed end of your house key wedged between your fingers.

It was Stark Industries, for crying out loud. People weren’t allowed in the lobby without clearance, much less the parking garage for higher-ups. That did little for your comfort, however. With each step you took towards your car, the faster your heart rate became, so you quickened your pace. Fumbled with your keys.

When the gun pressed against your spine it didn’t register at first. If it hadn’t been for the soft click that sounded around you, you wouldn’t guess it was a gun at all. Your stare flicked to the blurry reflection behind you. A woman. A familiar frame.

“Don’t move. We need to talk.”

“We couldn’t have talked in my kitchen? I feel like this is an unfair advantage.”

Bobbi Morse didn’t waver in her stance. If you had any doubt about her being a spy before, it had dissipated. No one could get past Tony’s security system without some type of previous training, something that pulled them from the pack. Despite yourself, your hands trembled.

You raised them to your shoulders and turned to face her. The tip of her weapon was aimed at your chest, a hard look in her eyes. Focus on your breathing, focus on the noodles you ordered from the Chinese restaurant down the street- They’d call the police if you didn’t show, right? No. They’d eat the lo-mein and curse another prank call.

“I saw the blood on your sleeve.” She snarled “could smell it the second I walked through the door. You’re not stupid y/n. You did your best.”

“I don’t want any part of this. We can forget it happened and just go back to being neighbors that barely acknowledge each other.”

“No. we were never neighbors” Bobbi shifted her hold on the gun but kept it aimed right at you. This was new. “And we stopped being friends the second you started to harbor a criminal. I get it, she’s charming. But she is dangerous.”

Boy, was she ever. A week ago, you hadn’t considered the thought of vampires existing, much less living next door to one. And then you had taken a blade to the center of your hand, the bandage still pulling at your skin, having let her drink you in, savor you. In all accounts, you had fallen for Kate Bishop. Maybe a little less, now, considering the gun and the spies.

“She’s not the one pointing a gun at me, what, do you think I’m a flight risk?”

Bobbi grimaced “I don’t know what she’s done to you. If she’s changed you. You’re pale.”

You scoffed “I’m anemic.”

Bobbi didn’t laugh at your attempt at a joke. Instead, she shoved the tip of the gun further into your chest until it ached. There was no way to prove to her that you were still you. This talk had turned south fast, and you had a feeling you wouldn’t be leaving the parking garage anytime soon.

A fist collided with Bobbi’s jaw, and you yelped in surprise, covering your face. This was it- the moment you got shot. It could be a slip of a finger or intentional. Either way, you clenched your eyes shut and waited for the pain, for the numbness- for something. When nothing came, you peeked through your fingers.

“Hi, Pet” Kate panted, “We might want to get a move on.”

Bobbi had fallen to the ground, blindsided by the strength of Kate’s hit. The vampire pulled the gun from the spy’s hand and slid it into the back of her jeans before asking you for your keys. You went through the motions, handing them to her and getting into the passenger seat of your own car.

“Were you following me?” You breathed

“What? No. I was following her while she followed you. Not the same thing. I knew they were getting impatient, and she’d do something rash like this.”

“Who are they exactly?”

“I did some digging, which is extremely hard to do without any 24-hour libraries. They were too clean to be vampire hunters, we know this.” She moved the car along the lower level of the parking garage. “The only other group that can’t keep their paws to themselves is S.H.I.E.L.D.”

You weren’t sure if it was because of Kate’s reckless driving, but your stomach suddenly dropped. It wasn’t in your nature to snoop around Pepper’s paperwork, or the checks she wrote. But the name was familiar, the script written in Tony’s heavy hand.

“Strategic Homeland-“

“Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Division. I know.” You breathed as she exited the garage and merged into traffic. If Bobbi truly was a part of that agency a hit wouldn’t keep her down for long. “What do they want with you?”

“They tend to bare their teeth with things they don’t understand.” She drummed her fingers nervously against the steering wheel. “Chances are they’ll kill me on the spot or dissect me like one of their aliens.”

You watched as storefronts melded together, neon reds and blues morphing into purple. Part of you knew that there was another world out there, things that you didn't want to acknowledge. Things like vampires and secret agencies that your boss, and friend, had her hand in.

“What now?” You asked. “We can’t go home.”

It was a question that hung in the air like the moon in the sky. She glanced at you with pity in her charcoal stare. The car rolled into an outdated hotel parking lot with a carved pole of an eagle, a wolf, and another type of bird that you couldn't recognize. It was borderline insensitive but had been decorated with Christmas lights for as long as you could remember. A plastic semi-melted Santa peered through clouded glass.

There was a vacancy sign in the lobby, which didn’t shock you. Kate had a guilty look on her face. You had stayed in worse places for longer times. She pulled your car around the back of the building and parked it under a grouping of trees that shielded it from the highway.

“We might have to lay low for a bit.”

“That’s alright.” Your hands were shaking, and your chest ached, pain radiating from where Bobbi had shoved the gun into your flesh. It was catching up with you, Kate’s reckless driving, and the taste of blood in your mouth where your teeth had dug into your tongue.

There was a tenderness in Kate’s eyes. You trailed behind her; hands shoved in the pockets of your blazer as she haggled with the bored teenager behind the counter. You could smell the sweetness of her gum masked with the saturated carpet that crunched under your shoes. You had never felt more uncomfortable in your own clothes than you did now.

She had somehow gotten you a room facing the back of the lot, away from the highway. There was one working security camera on the way up here, both of you turning your faces from the little black orb. The rest had been forcefully ripped from the structure, chords tangled and messy.

The room was a mix of 80’s décor and modern technology. There was a fairly nice television and a large queen bed that was adorned with a maroon comforter. Despite the stale scent of smoke, it looks fairly clean. The mini-fridge growled in the corner. You wanted to shower and clean clothes and something that wasn’t drenched with sweat.

Instead, you settled for flopping down on the edge of the bed and clenching your eyes shut. This would be the end of you- my god, this would be the absolute end. You wanted to call Pepper so she wouldn’t worry. She had become nearly motherly to you over the years and it felt unfair to do this, to pull yourself out of society.

You felt the edge of the bed dip beside you. Kate’s presence washed over you in waves. First her scent, and then her cool type of warmth. Her shoulder pressed against yours, her breath hot against the side of your face.

She watched you carefully, tracing every line of your face. She moved to push a strand of hair behind your ear, but her touch lingered, her thumb moving smoothly against the curve of your jaw. The touch was gentle, her knuckles blushed with blood that wasn’t hers.

The heat of the day tore at every inch of you. You sighed into her touch, melting under her hand. You could drown in her, surging forward in a bout of confidence. Her lips were against yours, fingers roaming to the back of your neck, pulling you further into her.

She tasted metallic and strong, her tongue smooth against your bottom lip. You moaned into her mouth, noise filling her throat, before parting. Kate kept her forehead against yours, panting, eyes foggy.

“Wow,” She breathed, a goofy grin on her face. You swallowed hard.

You had imagined kissing Kate before, her body pressed against yours. It was usually spurred by the way her muscles moved, the way her arms stretched, and her stares lingered. In all the scenarios that you imagined; it never involved a dingy hotel room that overcharged for terribly rough rooms. But all the same, it left you breathless.

#Kate Bishop #Kate Bishop x reader #Kate Bishop x y/n #Kate Bishop x you #kate bishop x female reader #hawkeye #hawkeye the series #hawkeye disney+#vampire au #bobbi morse

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iraacundus · 5 years ago

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Butterfly Lies - TWO

previous ✭ CHAPTER 2 ✭ next ✭ masterlist

mafialeader kun x reader

words: 4k

genre: fluff, smut (in later chapters), angst

warnings: injury, weapons, swearing

money makes people do strange things, is what people would say, it can even motivate them to murder. kun didn’t have people killed for the money, he had them killed for the power, he was a monster among men, is what people would say. in reality kun had only ever been motivated by one thing, his love for you

✭ ✭ ✭ ✭ ✭

You sat in the university lecture, not really listening, instead using all your energy to push Kun and the gun to the back of your mind. You didn’t really have to listen anyway; you had watched the lecture from last year online before you had even gotten there. You were a model student.

Your friend Yuyan nudged you, flicking her head towards a group of boys sitting in front of you.

“Is he new?” she asked, “I think I would have noticed if such a good-looking guy was on our course.”

“Which one do you mean?” you queried, no idea who she was referencing.

“There third on the left, brown hair, glasses,”

You pulled your own reading glasses down slightly so you could look over them to see who she was talking about.

You spotted him and for a moment felt slightly annoyed before a small smirk settled on your face. You had seen that guy before, standing behind Ten at the apartment, making a phone call to Kun.

“I think he has always been in our class,” you said to her, lying through your teeth. You didn’t know whether to continue to be annoyed or become reassured at the sight of Xiaojun sitting in your history of economics lecture. Either way you thought it was best to keep his identity somewhat secret.

You could have chosen to believe it was a coincidence, that Xiaojun really had just transferred to your class. Somehow you didn’t think he looked old enough to be in a final year class though. He was evidently not as old as you.

Therefore, you chose to be suspicious.

Kun had clearly sent him after your gun freak out. You were somewhat insulted that he thought you needed a babysitter, but you couldn’t be annoyed at him because you knew Kun always acted with good intentions.

As the lecturer droned on about the economic plans the Chinese government had after the war, you began to formulate your own plan.

If Kun wanted to play the game where he essentially sent someone to spy on you for what he considered your own safety, you were going to use it to your own advantage.

You hadn’t wanted to ask Kun questions because it was clearly uncomfortable for him. However, you had no qualms about trying to get the answers to those same questions out of Xiaojun. You just had to somehow befriend him first.

The difficulty of that task depended on two things. The first one being how loyal he was to Kun. You had to guess pretty loyal if Kun trusted him to make sure you didn’t get attacked or report him to the police. The second was if Kun had specifically instructed him to say nothing to you.

If that was the case, you had about zero chance of getting through to him. You had to hope the only thing Kun had banned them from was letting you into the apartment.

As soon as the lecturer began to wrap up you jumped out of your seat and half ran after Xiaojun who had left early, seemingly in the hope you wouldn’t have spotted him.

When it became very apparent you were jogging after him Xiaojun stopped and let you catch up with him. At the same time Yuyan texted you asking if you knew the cute boy and why you ran after him. A text which you sadly had to ignore.

“Hey, Xiaojun right? You were in the apartment behind Ten that day, right?” you asked, knowing the answer, but curious to see if he would try and lie.

“How did you even see me?” he asked, fixing the position of his glasses slightly.

“Good eyesight, well only the long-distance aspect of it but still,” you explained taking your own glasses off, realising you couldn’t see him properly with them on as you were no longer meant to be reading.

Xiaojun was clearly nervous, he was shifting his weight from foot to foot awkwardly, playing with the adjustment strap on his backpack.

“I didn’t know you were an economics student?” you said, smiling at him slightly deviously which only made him appear more awkward and maybe slightly fearful. Maybe he thought that friends of gang leaders were all worth fearing. You didn’t think that would have been an unfair conclusion to draw even if it didn’t apply to you.

Xiaojun looked down at his watch.

“Sorry, I’m busy right now, I have something I can’t be late for, can we chat some other time?” he said. You shook your head, linking your arm with his.

“That is not going to work as an escape ploy, instead I think we should go for coffee, any friend of Kun’s is a friend of mine.”

You began to walk him toward the nearest coffee shop to the university campus. He didn’t protest or struggle and seeing as you could tell he would have defiantly won in a fight; you took it as a sign he was willing to go along with whatever you were doing.

“How did you know I would know you?” Xiaojun asked, “Like that we knew what you looked like not just your name?”

You didn’t really know why you had assumed that. You began to laugh to yourself imagining a meeting with all these tough guys in which Kun just stood at the front with an A4 picture of your face.

Something along those lines must have occurred seeing as Xiaojun did know your face when he saw you. Still you didn’t answer his question. As you opened the door of the coffee shop and pulled him inside you changed the topic.

“What do you want? I’ll pay seeing as I dragged you here,” you said, Xiaojun didn’t bother to argue with you and just told you the one he wanted.

You paid and after an uncomfortable silence between the two of you as you waited for them to be made, the barista handed you the drinks.

You sat down in a chair opposite him and drank your coffee for a moment, waiting to see if he would say anything first, to judge how chatty he was.

Sadly, he didn’t say anything and didn’t seem like the chatty type which wasn’t the greatest start to your plan.

“What’s your job then?” you asked him, placing your drink back town on the table. Xiaojun looked in thought and for a moment you wondered if he would even answer at all, or if he just planned to sit with you silently.

“Management,” he replied, clearly deciding that was an appropriate response.

“Most managers don’t stalk their bosses’ friends at their university,” you raised one eyebrow slightly, “what’s your real job?”

When he didn’t reply and just began to fiddle nervously, you realised you were being kind of harsh on him, it must have been hard for him to work out what he could say and what he couldn’t,

“I’m just being annoying, I’m sorry.”

Xiaojun shrugged.

“I wouldn’t ‘stalk’ you as your calling it, if I had the choice, nor is it my usual job. It’s a personal favour I’m doing for your rather scary friend Kun.”

You chuckled slightly at his eventual response. You couldn’t believe that people were scared of Kun. While the situation frightened you slightly, you had never been scared of Kun, he was too sweet a person for that.

“In what way is Kun scary?” you asked, unbelievably curious about how he acted around the rest of the people in his life, the people who had the same kind of job he did.

“You are literally the only person he is actually nice to apart from Ten, well at least I assume. He is big on rules and doing well and when you fuck up, he is mad scary man. I mean he’s the boss that’s how he has to be to succeed in our business. He is a cold man with big plans, not the Easter bunny,” Xiaojun explained.

You struggled to imagine any other version of Kun than the kind-hearted one you knew who would watch cartoons with you and got sprinkles on his ice cream.

“He’s a good guy,” you said, for some reason feeling the sudden need to defend him, you for some reason wished that Xiaojun saw Kun the way you did.

“I never said I thought he wasn’t. Doesn’t make him not terrifying.”

Xiao Jun’s phone started to ring, the shrill tone cutting through the pause in conversation. You could see Kun was the caller ID.

“Sorry, I’ve got to take this,” Xiaojun said, standing up and walking a few meters away.

As soon as the call had started you could see that whatever Kun was saying wasn’t good. You heard Xiaojun swear loudly enough that other people looked around. You stood up and ushered him out the door, still on the phone, mouthing sorry to the people in the coffee shop.

“I will come right now, yes she is literally standing right behind me,” Xiaojun said, hanging up the phone by pressing the screen rather aggressively.

“What’s wrong, is Kun okay?” you asked him. He just shook his head.

“What do you mean no, is he in the hospital or something, what happened?” You started to panic for approximately the fourth time that week. Cool and collected was not your prerogative.

“In our line of work, we never go to the hospital, it’s not really an option, the hospital asks questions we cannot answer without being arrested…”

You don’t know whether he just didn’t have time to deal with your questions or if he had taken pity on the worried expression on your face, but he gave in.

“Kun has been stabbed, they’re at the office, it’s like a four-minute run from here, how good at running are you?” He said the words all seeming to explode out of his mouth at once.

Xiaojun didn’t wait for an answer, he just took off running towards the centre of town.

You were frozen for a few seconds. Kun had been stabbed and yet he wasn’t going to the hospital. If you hadn’t been so worried you really would have been inclined to kill him.

You realised that Xiaojun was fast, after only a few seconds he was already far ahead so you forced your body to run after him despite the shock.

After a few minutes you saw him run into the entrance of a building that said Qian Industries on the side. Which in itself was insane to you, but you didn’t have time to be surprised that Kun owned a building.

Thankfully Xiaojun had waited briefly for you inside so you didn’t have to guess which floor to go to in the lift. Xiaojun hurried you in and pressed the button for the fourteenth flour.

The short time in the lift gave you a second to think that you hadn’t yet had and for whatever reason tears began to well up in your eyes.

“Is he going to die?” you asked, looking up at Xiaojun, who was realising that had no idea how to comfort a crying girl in a lift.

“He will be fine, just try to look less upset, that will probably help,” he said, pushing you out of the lift when the doors opened as you hadn’t moved by yourself. He grabbed a tissue from a box that had been in the corridor and handed it to you, “just try and pull it together slightly before you come in, crying really won’t be helpful, it’s the second door on the left,” Xiaojun said, “Sorry I don’t mean to sound so harsh,” he added.

He walked away into the office where a heated argument was clearly occurring between a group of people.

You used the tissue to wipe your face. Xiaojun was right, if Kun saw you crying he would probably be concerned, and it wasn’t you he needed to be concerned about. You had to somehow convince him to go to a hospital.

You threw the tissue in the nearest bin and took a deep breath before pushing down the handle to the office and opening the door.

You were immediately met with the sight of Kun stitching up a rather large wound on his arm through gritted teeth. Luckily for you, you had never been squeamish. Next to him Ten was attempting to reset some guys nose. From the other man shouting at him you deciphered the guy with the broken nose was named Yangyang.

“Well shit,” was all you managed to say, causing them to all stop shouting at one and other and look over. Xiaojun who had just sat down on the desk could do nothing but put his head in his hands at the situation.

“y/n!” Kun said out of surprise, before groaning, his stitch had missed due to the distraction of your entrance. You walked straight over to him and crouched down in front of where he was sitting.

“You should really go to a hospital or at least get a doctor,” you said to him, struggling to see him when he was in so much pain. Kun just shook his head.

“That is not a viable option, I would die before I went to the hospital, luckily I was only stabbed in the arm, so I won’t be dying today.”

“I am so mad at you Kun,” you said, when really you were just upset that he was taking such a serious injury so nonchalantly.

“You can’t be mad at me, I’m injured,” he joked, flashing a smile at you before finishing the last stich, tying the thread and cutting it, “see… I’m fine now.”

He was right you couldn’t be mad at him.

“If I hug you in front of your associates,” you tried to think of the best way to refer to his fellow gang members, “would that be embarrassing for you,” you said, quietly enough that the associates as you were calling them, couldn’t hear over their yelling

“I’m the boss, I can do what I want,” he replied. With the go ahead, you carefully wrapped your arms around him, taking special attention not to touch his arm,

“Do you need pain killers or something, I don’t think the ibuprofen in my bag will help you much though?”

“You’re the only comfort I need,” he joked. You pulled away your lips settling into a firm line.

“While that would be a good line at any other time I admit, be serious, I’m worried about you.”

You crouched back down in front of him.

“Worry not, my work often involves illegal drugs and so always have a supply of anything I could ever need, in this case, local anaesthetic, I can barely feel my arm.”

You got up and went to the water machine you had spotted on the other side of the office and filled up a cup with water before bringing it back. Trying to do something to help.

“Drink,” you encouraged, handing the water to Kun, he smiled, taking a sip, “then talk… how the hell did you get stabbed Kun? You said there was nothing to worry about, that you could protect yourself.”

“Can we talk later?” he asked. You nodded understanding he had stuff to deal with.

“Stop shouting Lucas!” He called, focusing his attention to the chaos unfolding in the office. You stood up from where you were crouched and went to lean against the desk next to Xiaojun.

He was tapping a beat lightly on the counter, clearly not very invested in what was going on now he had ascertained that no one was going to die.

He had a wry smile on his face.

“I have never seen Kun smile, not in the three years I have known him, not before you talked to him just now,” he said, “are you magic, have you placed him under a spell or something?”

You felt like that was somehow an insult, but you laughed anyway in response.

“Not magic no, just an old friend of his.”

“So, you are seriously not dating? Like he clearly loves you, bro”

“We are not close enough friends for this conversation … bro,” you replied. Xiaojun didn’t seem to care, he just went back to tapping the table.

You turned your own attention to Kun sorting out the mess in front of him. He had managed to get them to stop arguing and listen to him straight away. Even if they found him scary you could tell they respected him more so than anything else.

You felt a weird sense of pride rise in your chest. Kun may not have been the same boy you had met at fifteen, but he had made something of his life. His line of work may have been illegal, but he had people who respected him and with a building this big, you figured he had to have been good at his job.

“If I hadn’t shown up in time, you and five other guys would have died Yangyang, you understand that.” Kun said to him. The boy named Yangyang nodded and hung his head slightly, his newly reset nose starting to bruise horribly.

So Kun had been protecting him? He had clearly gotten him out of trouble, even as a gang member he was a good guy.

“I would show up to save any of you, you all know that, but I shouldn’t have too, Yangyang you’re clearly too young for this position so you are gonna have to go back to working for Ten. I would shout at you more, but I think Lucas has done that for me, you should all just go home, get some rest. I’ll contact you sometime later this week,” he said sitting down in the chair behind the desk where you were leaning.

They all got up and walked out as soon as he asked them too. Yangyang leaving last, waiting at the door last, to personally thank Kun, who just told him to get some sleep.

You turned around moving a few items before climbing up and sitting cross legged on the desk facing Kun once again.

“So, you own a building these days Qian Kun? That’s slightly impressive I will give it too you,” you fiddled with the items on the desk, all the pens and all the paper with the name Qian Industries at the top, “yet somehow I don’t believe this is an engineering company.”

You were filled with nervous energy, unable to sit still so you began to draw a star on your hand slowly.

“We are good at forging documents what can I say,” Kun replied, eyes focused on where you were drawing on your hand, “I’m sorry I worried you,” he said, his gaze lifting up to look you in the eyes.

You stopped drawing.

“Only you are considerate enough to apologise for getting stabbed. I heard that you only were in that situation to help that kid. I might not love what you do but as I said, I won’t deny that you’re not impressive.”

Kun paused for a moment, searching through some of the papers on the desk before handing you and article he had printed out from the country’s biggest newspaper.

It referred to the unknown leader of Gang V, calling him a monster who killed people not for the money, but to make himself feel powerful. The article attributed many crimes to Kun, some that couldn’t ever have been him, as far as you knew Kun had never been to Sao Paulo.

“I’m never going to think you’re a bad person Kun, those writers don’t know anything about you, I’ve known you for over six years.”

“I am responsible for ordering most of the crimes on there to happen, apart from the ones in Sao Paulo, that makes no sense, I’ve never left the country.”

Which just confirmed that you knew him better than anyone.

“You also helped a random girl you met on the street find her way home and stood up for her against dickhead boys and watched Shrek with her more times than you can count. People aren’t just one thing.”

Kun moved his face closer to yours.

“That’s because I really, really like you, the moment I saw you I thought you were the most mesmerising girl in the world.”

You weren’t the biggest fan of when he said super cheesy things and couldn’t help making a slight face. Kun wasn’t offended by it, he knew you well enough to know it was the concept of being cheesy you objected too, not him specifically.

“You can see it from here,” he said, getting up and walking over to the floor to ceiling glass window. You followed him to see what he meant, “right there,” his finger pressed on the glass towards a street with badly working streetlamps.

“What is it?”

“The street where we first met,” he answered, before tucking a lose strand of hair behind your ear.

His eyes were fixed on yours, neither of you able to look away.

“Do I really have no chance? If it makes you uncomfortable, I will stop, we can just be best friends, I won’t flirt with you anymore. I just need you to tell me, that I have absolutely no chance of ever winning your affection.”

You paused for a second, staring back out at the street remembering the first day you met, how cute he was. The smartest choice would be to tell him to give up, but the thought of that made your heart ache. Equally you couldn’t say what he wanted to hear. You knew it was selfish of you really.

“It’s not that you have no chance,” you began, taking a moment to breath and compose yourself when you felt Kun’s fingers brush lightly against your own, his pinkie playing with yours.

His face looked so relieved when he heard your words.

“Then what, and please don’t say you won’t risk your friendship with me because I know that’s not the only reason.”

“Before… I knew what I know now, the distance between us due to what I didn’t know did mean that I thought it was best not to risk that. I could never have dated you not knowing a whole side of your life. I didn’t want to risk finding out though or asking you and you not wanting to tell me and that being an issue, its complicated, I don’t really understand myself fully my reasons.”

“And now?” he argued you to continue, you could almost hear his heart beating.

“You have turned out to be a powerful guy who most likely has powerful enemies. If you have a girlfriend then you have a weakness that those enemies will exploit, I’m not going to put either of us at risk like that.”

You could tell Kun wanted to argue with you so badly and tell you how stupid of a reason he thought that was. Poke holes in the argument you had given until you had no choice but to give in. He didn’t do that though; he was far to kind.

You were just thankful he didn’t comeback with some rather cheesy line about you being his weakness because you don’t think you could have handled that without throwing something at him.

“But I still have a chance?” he asked, his fingers still touching yours. You nodded.

“Then that’s good enough for me.”

You offered to drive him home because of his hurt arm, forgetting you didn’t have a driver’s licence or a car. When Kun reminded of that you settled on calling him a taxi instead. You wanted to go with him, to make sure he was okay, but you knew it was important for you both to have time apart, to process the nights events.

You caught the nearest bus back to your flat, drawing a star in the condensation of the window as you thought about your own words.

You were afraid to become Kun’s weakness, that’s why you somewhat distanced yourself from him by refusing to give into his charms and love him in that way.

Roads at night seem to lead to nowhere when you can’t see what comes beyond through the darkness. You were determined that you and Kun wouldn’t lead to nowhere, because the thought of him moving on from you was such a horrible one. So, you decided to do whatever you had to do, to become Kun’s strength instead of his weakness.

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maggyme13 · 5 years ago

Text

Sugar (1/?)

AN: And as a starting gift for you lovely readers: here is the firt part^^

Warnings: assholes and swearing

Sugar Masterlist

Masterlist

___

„Who are you?“, an unknown male voice asked from behind you, causing you to jerk together.

Turning around, you noticed a man with long black hair (dressed in a suit) standing in the entrance of the appartment.

“Ehm-”, you answered confused.

“So? What are you doing in my eployers appartment?”, he frowned.

“I-I am (y/n) (y/ln).”

“Well, Ms (y/ln) what do you want?”, he sighted.

“Excuse me?”

“How much money for you to leave?”, the man asked, already opening the jacked of his suit.

“I don´t-”

“Fine, here- 5k and now leave.”, your opponent handed you a bunch of dollar notes.

“Bu-”, you wanted to exclaim.

“Leave, or I will call security.”, the man now growled, and a shiver went down your spine.

“Yes, Sir. Can I get my things first?”, you asked defeated.

“5 Minutes.”

You were gone before that timeframe closed.

Most of the money was tucked inside your bra and shoes, so no one would be able to easily steal it.

It was already dark outside, and you made your way to a cheap motel you knew to sleep at for the night. Tomorrow you would place the money into your bank account.

The money needed to last as long as possible, even though you felt dirty even accepting it.

After a short and restless night you bought some breakfast for yourself and Bob and Monty at a local bakery. Though when you exited the store (after a quick greeting) you ran into someone with full force.

“Oh my god. I am so sorry.”, you apologised, taking a step back and looking the person over for any damage you might have caused.

“You-”, it was the man who had kicked you out the night before, “-again. Good. I was inf-”

“I won´t tell anyone what I saw in your employees rooms. I will sign a faver. I promise.”, you panicked, noticing a few cops standing near by.

“That´s- good. But not the reason I am here for.”, he frowned confused, “But I still need you to come with me.”

“And if I don´t?”, you asked with huge eyes.

“”Do you want to find out?”, he contered and you shook your head.

“No- I will come with you, but- can I get this food to my friends over in that park first?”

“Hurry up. I will join you.”

“Yes Sir.”, you sighted.

Bob and Monty thanked you with a smile and once again told you how happy they where that you had gotten of the streets.

“Take a seat. My driver will get us back to my appartment.”, the man ordered and you oblieged, getting into the dark limousine.

____

“This will be your room. I has a joined bathroom and a walk-in closet.”, the man (you still did not know the name of) exclaimed, pointing at a white wooden door, “Over there is the kitchen with joined living-room. And that´s my room. Do not enter without a direct order or permission.”

“What, I don´t understand?”, you stated confused.

“What is there not to understand? You will stay here. Or do you want me to involve the police for trespassing and probably tried theft?”

“N-No, but-”

“I give you a place to life, food, water, clothing and other things you might need, and I only need one thing in return.”, he stated.

“And that would be?”

“You. So decide: Jail or staying here?”, he demanded to know and you sighted.

“I will stay.”, you ansered in defeat, not wanting to go to jail.

“Good to hear. I want you to go to your room and change into something else. Lunch will be served at one. Until then you have time for yourself.”

“Yes-”

“Loki. Loki Laufeyson.”, he introduced himself.

“Yes, Mr Laufeyson.”, you nodded, entering your room.

It was huge. Almost as big as your old appartment. A Queensized bed stood in the centre, facing the windowfront of the tower. On the left of you where two doors that must lead to the bath and closet you assumed.

Curiouse, you opened one of the doors, only to find the closed and you stopped dead in your tracks. The few clothes looked expensive and not like things you usualy wore. Looking through the fabrics, you tried to find anyhting for you to wear and finally found it in a rather comfortable looking dress. (at least more comfortable than the other things).

This will have to do. I fear. Now time to shower.

The pure luxury of the bath you stepped into took your breath away. It was gold and black with white highlights.

Is this gold?

A big bathtube dominated the centre of the room, and just like the bed, it was faced towards the windowfront. The shower was right next to at the wall.

A variety of soft looking towels laid arranged on a wooden commode next ot the tube.

Clothing the door behind you, you slowly stripped and made your way to the shower.

Luckily this is one of the higher floors and no one can look inside.

Eying the different kind of offered bottles, you found an arrangement of shampoos conditioners and other kinds of soap and things you had never heard of before.

Laying the towel down next to the door of the shower, you stepped inside and let warm water rain down over your tense body.

Slowly you were able to relax, the fruity scents of the shampoo helping further.

That was when an thought crossed your mind.

Cameras. What if he has cameras installed and it watching me now?

Tense again, you hurried to finish your shower and pulled the towel around your body. Hiding as much as possible from possible views.

Your eyes darted around the walls on the look out for any lensen or blinking red lamps. But nothing. This was the same in the closet.

You chose a simple and loose dress and a pair of leggins to wear for the time being.

The golden clock on the night-stand showed it was ten minutes before you were told lunch would be served, so you left your room and made your way towards the kitchen.

It was empty.

He is not here.

Not knowing what to do and what you were allowed to do, you stood awewkardly next to the dark oiled wooden table; not daring to sit on one of the definetelly expensive leather chairs.

“You are on time. Good. I don´t like to wait. Sit down. Food will be brought any second now. After that, we will talk.”, Mr Laufeyson stated upon entering the living area on his own.

You nodded and slipped onto the nearest seat, your eyes cast on the wooden tabletop, not daring to look up.

“I ordered some chinese to be brought up here. I hope that is to your delight.”, he continued, “Dinner will then be at seven. Now I want you to eat and then we will retreat into the living area to talk about, what will come next.”

You nodded in understanding once more.

He wanted to say something, but a knock on the door interrupted him.

“Yes?”

“It´s Sam. We met the delivery guy in the lobby and took the order for you.”, Sam´s voice called through the door.

“Come in.”

“Since when do you- Oh, hay (y/n). Was wondering where you where. Now I know why the order is bigger than usual. Well, gotta go. See you around, (y/n). Are you going to be at the club tonight Boss?”, the dark skinned male grinned and you smiled. Not wanting him to know of your uncomfortable situation.

“I am not sure yet. I will let Steve know. You and Barnes are both scheduled, am I right?”, the boss answered , accepting the food from the other man.

“Yes. Nat as well. A Businessman requested her being their VIP server.”

“Good. Maybe until tonight then.”, he dismissed his employee, who in return send you another warm smile and a wave before leaving.

Loki Laufeyson placed some dishes on the table and then the food containers in the middle; they looked not as those you knew, they looked expensive.

“I ordered a bit of everything. Take what you like.”, he hummed, already placing food onto his own plate.

You chose a small bit of everything: not too much to seem gready and not too less to seem ungreatefull. Though you were still hungry.

The question about the male´s reason was still burning in your mind.

“Let´s talk.”, he finally ordered, looking straight into your eyes, “As I already informed you, will you be staying here until further notice and I will take care of your needs. In return you will do as I ask you to and not speak with anyone about or little deal.”

“Like a slave.”, you mumbled more to yourself, though he still heard you, “Or a pet.”

“If that´s what you think. You are allowed to leave any time you want. But then I will tell the police about your trespassing. I own a large business, and a few smaller establishments where I am needed to be present at different kind of events. You will join and represent me. Dressed accordingly ofcourse. The first one will be next week. Other than those little things, you have to do nothing and can live in luxury.”

You shook your head.

“I don´t want pity or gifted money.”, you mumbled, tears gathering in your eyes, you always hated to depend on others and now you had no other choice. Or so it seemed.

“Interesting.”, he thought aloud, “If you feel better, you can take care of the houshold a bit, or so.”.

An amused smirk danced on his lips. Though deep down he was believing she was just playing him.

“Any questions?”, he finally asked after watching you for a few seconds.

“Cameras-”, you breathed, “ I mean, are there Cameras in here?”

“Why? Do you want to steal something?”, he mused with a smirk.

“NO!”, you quickly defended yourself.

“But yes, there are hidden Cameras in this appartment. Though no one has access to them unless something happens. They are positioned, so they capture who enters and leaves the appartment, as well as who enters the different private rooms. Those are not under surveilance, as long as no one calls out a safeword. Then everything is recorded and security informed. So no worries, I do not intent to spy on you whilst you are in your bathroom.”

“I- “, your eyes got huge, fearing you insulted the one who held your freedom in his hands.

“-am not mad. It is a thought anyone in your situation would have. Now, I have to do something -important- I will take you shopping tomorrow. You can´t wear those simple things when you are seen with me.”

And with that, he left through the front door and you alone in the foreign rooms.

Well, lets take care of these dishes.

Part 2

AN2.0:

So, what do you think of this first part? And are you ready for a bit of a different kind of SugarDaddy AU?

Let me know what you think and please REBLOG!

Thank you very much.

Taglists:

Permanent:

@jadepc@pacifyhxlsey

@thankyoukarenclifford

@thankyouforanonymity @punkrockhufflefluff

@scarletraine

@ambrosialyn

@markusstraya

@graveyard-groupie

@buckycaptspideypool

@markusstrayya @randomgirlkensy @the-soulofdevil

MCU:

@yknott81 @banner-and-bucky-are-life @forext20 @dyanlzbb @so-finster-die-nacht @emmii4 @caplansteverogers @bitchwhytho @ladyofmyst @jilldsumner @momc95 @appreciating-fanfics

Sugar:

@bits-and-bobs-and-kawaii-stuffs @mimmie666 @fullranchwolfoperator

@cluelessnitwhit @youknowitsclouds @his-paradox @purplerainharry

@spootgaai2000 @iamsuperjenna

Want to get tagged as well? Comment, Reblog or send an ask to let me know.

#sugardaddy!loki #sugardaddy #sugardaddy loki x reader #sugar

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fernwehbookworm · 4 years ago

Text

Haunted- Chapter 2

As soon as Kara gets back to CatCo, she pitches her idea to her editor, Snapper Carr. He stares at her for a solid four minutes before grunting out a response. “Fine. But you better do this right. Just the facts. We don't need a eulogy. We need an article that will blow the other four out of the water. Get going, Pony Tail."

Kara escaped his office as fast as she could before Snapper could change his mind.

It was already the end of the day. Kara had spent so much time at L-Corp she had worked through her lunch, very rare for her. With her stomach growling, Kara packed up a few things she thought she might need on her desk and decided to head home. While Kara walked the five city blocks back to her apartment, she ordered more takeout then she would probably eat but everything sounded so good right now. It was better leftover anyway. She is barely through her door when the delivery guy knocks. The smell of Chinese food permeates the entire apartment and Kara can barely focus enough to pay and set up her laptop before diving in.

When the first few bites settle into her stomach and take the edge off her hunger, Kara can actually pause to log into her computer and start researching. In between bites, Kara scrolls through article after article on Lena Luthor. Really, there is nothing about her up until her brother's arrest. There is one short piece back when she was four and being adopted by the Luthor's, her tiny hand is obscured by her father's as the now family of four leaves the courthouse after signing the papers. The occasional mention on various projects for school fairs but Miss Luthor is always listed as 'not pictured.' The next picture Kara finds is of Lena graduating high school as Valedictorian at the age of fifteen. She had refused to give a speech, stating 'who am I to speak about our high school experience when I was barely here even two years? They laughed and cried together. They have grown together in ways I will never understand. Let one of them tell them of a hope for the future as they look fondly on the past."

Which Kara thought was a pretty good speech in itself.

Then Miss Luthor was gone again, only resurfacing in research papers and a start-up application with a man named Jack Sphere, who Kara finds is the now CEO of Spherical Industries. Shortly after that is when Lex Luthor is arrested. After scouring those police reports, Kara finally finds how. Lena Luthor turned her own brother in. Her public statement says that she suspected something had been off with her brother. At first she assumed it was the pressure of taking over LuthorCorp, which he quickly renamed to LexCorp, after their father had died. But it continues even as the company went into a period of growth and prosperity. Investors were practically knocking down Mr. Luthor's door.

Miss Luthor noticed a heavier rotation of women through her brother's life. There had always been a new woman every couple of months because Mr. Luthor had been known to get bored easily. He was a very intellectual man, he even claimed his sister was his only match for wits. Then it seemed like a new woman every week. Miss Luthor worried about a scorned woman trying to blackmail her brother and said so to him. 'He just chuckled real lowly. And said there was nothing to worry about. It was all taken care of.' A quote from the police report.

She didn't know then, that he was wooing these women, giving them everything they could ever want, paying off their debts and dressing them in the finest clothes, and just when they would say they couldn't be happier, he would kill them. He would drug them and tag them like farm animals or game. Then hunt them like those very animals in the huge forests on the Luthor estate. Miles of undeveloped trees that were privately owned. Police still don't believe they have found all the bodies of the missing women who are presumed dead by Lex Luthor's hand. He buried them where he killed them. Still in torn designer dresses with diamonds around their necks and bright orange tags punctured through an ear.

Miss Luthor had started to see signs of the deeds slowly. Blood on a dress shirt carelessly left in a bathroom. A hunting cabinet left unlocked. Dirt tracked into Mr. Luthor's bedroom because the maids had been dismissed for the week. That's when she started spying on him. As a child, she had hid from an verbally abusive mother and knew all nooks and crannies of the Luthor estate. When she finally caught him drugging the next victim, she knew. She took what evidence she could to the police and cooperated fully. Lex Luthor escaped before being taken into custody and no one knows where to. As Miss Luthor gave the federal agency access to LexCorp’s financials, a whole other slew of accusations were leveled on the former CEO. He had been selling weapons on both sides of wars around the world, profiting from death and destruction. His list of crimes went on and on.

Kara begins to write, switching between tabs on the internet browser. It takes hours just to get her notes into a semblance of order and a skeleton of a rough draft. Kara even uses her found pen to take physical notes and jot down ideas as well. Kara works until her eyes start to burn and half her food is gone. By eight, Kara was also halfway through a bottle of wine. She pushes past that, diving in and losing herself in the research and the stories of Miss Luthor’s employees.

Kara blinks hard to try and rid the sleep from her eyes, she is too in the zone to stop now. When she opens them again, she startles at the woman sitting next to her at the table. Kara instantly recognizes her with the long dark hair and piercing green eyes. She’s even still wearing the lab coat that she was in the video.

“Okay, I’m dreaming. I have to be.” Kara mumbles to herself and rubs her eyes.

“Oh, yeah. You are definitely face down on your laptop. It’s quite adorable. Too bad all those ‘F’s’ are going to take up your pages. I hope you auto saved.” Kara watches the phantom of Miss Luthor laugh and then she ties up her hair in a high ponytail, exposing the sharp jawline that Kara saw in her company portrait.

“Yeah definitely dreaming. I think I’ve been thinking about you too much.”

“Honey, no one ever thinks of me too much.” Miss Luthor raises an eyebrow and flashes a smirk Kara’s way.

Kara blushes. “Well since this is all not real, care for an interview? Maybe my subconscious can tell me something.”

“I don’t know. I’m pretty sure I’m here. I mean, I feel real. But I have never met you before. But I’ve been watching you for a while and all of a sudden you can see me.”

“Sounds very dreamish to me. So, Interview?”

“I don’t think that’s how dreams work.” Miss Luthor says with a laugh.

“I don’t think I could dream up that laugh, Miss Luthor.”

Miss Luthor winces, “If this isn’t real, then please call me Lena. Miss Luthor makes me feel like I am in a Boardroom.”

“All right, Lena then. I’m Kara.”

“Really? I thought it was Pony Tail. At least that's what that angry goblin man called you.”

“You saw that?”

“I’ve been with you almost all day. I've seen everything.”

“Everything?” Kara’s voice gets a bit higher.

“Don’t worry, I stayed out of the bathroom stall.”

“Oh good, my subconscious lets me have my privacy.”

“Still don’t think that’s true, but tell me, Kara, why are you doing this? Why are you trying to make me look so good? You don’t even know me?”

“I’m not trying to make you look good. You were good. The things you were doing for your employees and National City is amazing. Not to mention your charity helping third world countries. Like, What weren’t you doing?” “I wasn’t living. I was working myself until I couldn’t think to fill the void of loneliness that I thrust upon myself by turning in my brother and cutting my mother out of my life.”

“Wow, intense. But you didn’t find joy in anything you did.”

“I did. But it was always just so temporary. And I had no one to share it with. I never understood why people would talk about sharing their lives with significant others but when the machine malfunctioned and I saw the bright light. It all hit me at the same time and then I was there, watching you interview with Jess.”

“Man, I really wish you weren’t dead. I would have loved to meet you.”

“But I don’t think I am.”

Kara jerks awake, scattering her papers and pens to the floor. She casts about for Lena before realizing she was in fact just dreaming. A glance at her computer screen does reveal a stream of F’s going on for way too many pages. The sun has long set and Kara looks at her watch to see that it is now three in the morning. She groans, she has less than four hours to sleep before getting up again.

Kara is dead on her feet the next morning, she bought two caramel ice cappuccinos for herself and drank them both before they had a chance to melt. Kara has to do a double take when she sits at one of the cafe tables. She swears Lena is sitting across from her, but when Kara blinks, she’s gone. Kara shakes her head and chalks it up to the lack of sleep. On the street, as Kara works on her vanilla cream-filled doughnut, she almost drops it because someone runs into her, she has an apology half way out of her mouth before realizing that the person is long gone.

Eyebrows drawn together, Kara finishes her trek to work and hides in her cubicle. Luckily, Snapper seems content to allow her to work on the Lena Luthor story and leaves Kara alone for the morning. It’s nearing noon when Kara’s phone buzzes.

Noonan’s?

Alex knows her sister very well. Noonan’s sounds perfect.

20 min? Kara responds.

A thumbs-up emoji comes in response and Kara begins saving her place so she can head out to meet her sister. Kara logs out and stands to swing her bag onto her shoulder, somehow knocking her pen container to the ground in the process. Kara groans to herself and stoops to pick them up. Someone giggles at her misfortune but Kara can’t pinpoint which one of her coworkers it was.

Kara shakes her head and lets it go.

“Hey Alex,” Kara greets as she sinks into the seat across from her sister at Noonan’s.

“Hey Kar… you look exhausted.”

“Gee, thanks. Good to see you too.”

“I’m your sister, I’m supposed to call it how it is. What’s up?”

Before Kara can respond, their waitress interrupts. “The usual, dears?”

“Yes, thanks, Carol.” Kara says.

“So?” Alex asks, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s nothing, really.” Kara tries to wave off her sister’s concerns but Alex continues to stare her down. “It’s just this L-Corp article. I stayed up way too late researching and fell asleep at my computer.”

“You have got to stop doing that to yourself.”

“I know, I know. I even had this super weird dream about Lena Luthor.”

“Weird how?”

“She was just there in my apartment, sitting at my table, and we just started talking. But then she kept saying how she didn’t think she was actually dead. It just felt so real. I don’t know. It was weird.”

“Sounds like you have been really focused on this. You were probably just overtired.”

“Maybe, but forget about me. What’s new with you?”

“Not much. I’m thinking about asking Kelly to move in.” Alex winces at Kara’s high pitched squeal.

“Not much?! That’s huge Alex! Really? I’m so happy for you!”

Alex laughs at Kara’s enthusiasm. “It’s not that big of a deal. She hardly ever goes back to her apartment anyway, mine is closer to both of our jobs and she already has half my closet space.”

“But still! That’s great. I love Kelly, well not how you love Kelly, but like I love Kelly as a very possible future sister-in-law.”

“Whoa, slow down sis. Let’s take this one step at a time.”

“Sorry, I just excited for you. It will be great. We should have a dinner party after you ask to celebrate.”

“Here you ladies go,” Carol set’s down the plates of food, Kara’s piled high with extra fries and a couple of extra pickles next to her burger.

“Thanks,” Alex accepts her club sandwich with a hungry grin. "Want my pickle?"

"Always," Kara grins as she grabs the spear from her sister's plate.

As Kara settles back into her chair, she does a double-take. She could have sworn she had seen Lena Luthor watching her from the door. But when she looked again there was just a woman with dark hair waiting for a seat.

"What's wrong?" Alex asks, noticing her sister's confusion.

"Nothing. Just, jeez, I must be really thinking too much about this article. I keep thinking I see Le- Miss Luthor out of the corner of my eye. It's happened a couple times today."

"Well, maybe when you finish this article, you should put in for some personal time. You haven't taken a day off since you became a reporter two years ago. And you have been pushing really hard this past couple of weeks. We even canceled the last two game nights, which, by the way, Kelly wants to have on Friday."

"Oh! Yes! I met a new friend interviewing for this article. Winn, he asked if we could hang out sometime so I told him he should definitely come to game night."

Alex raises an eyebrow at her sister.

"What?" Kara asks through a mouthful of fries.

"Kar…"

Kara swallows. "What?" She asks innocently.

"I think that poor man was trying to ask you out."

"Wha-? No. Wait." Kara rethinks their last interaction. She frowns hard and then shrugs. "He isn't really my type, plus I'm a little put off of men still. Don't get me wrong, I am still attracted to them but after Mike, I think I need a break from them."

"Hey, you won't find any arguments from me. Women are prettier anyway." Alex laughs.

"All right you big lesbian, yes they are. But I'm not really feeling the dating thing anyway. I just need some 'me' time."

"I don't need to know about your 'me' time. Some things are just best for sisters not to know.”

"Ugh, Alex! Not like that. Well… a little like that, but not the point. Okay changing the subject. How are you asking Kelly to move in?"

<><><><>

Kara was really starting to hate this feeling of being watched. It had nagged at her all day. Like someone was just behind her, watching everything she did. It followed her all the way home and into her apartment. Kara was trying to just chalk it up to lack of sleep and overthinking but then she just thought about it more and it became a vicious cycle. The back of her neck prickled as she locked her front door and Kara only hesitated a moment before chaining the door along with the deadbolt. Kara knew she should sleep, but this article needed to be done and prepared for whatever new information L-Corp sent out when they concluded their investigation. To Kara though, that information would be last. She really wanted to focus on Lena's life instead of her death. Kara ordered pizza and began to dive deep into her research again. Each new charity or fundraiser event leading to a new one. There were some that Kara could not find clear evidence of it being Lena so she emailed Jess who responded promptly with a list of events and organizations that Lena decided not to be listed on or listed as a minor contributor even though the exact opposite was true.

Around 9, Kara can feel her eyelids growing heavy as she shakes off sleep and takes another bite of her half-finished pizza. Or she tries to. Darkness envelops her consciousness and panic feels like it wraps around her heart.

“Where am I? Come on… come on. I have to find a way back. There… There! I have to—”

Kara jerks awake, knocking her pizza box onto the ground and nearly punching her computer screen. Though the confused, muddled images fade, the fear keeps her heart pumping. Kara isn't really sure what she was just dreaming of but it raised goosebumps on her arms.

Kara stands and shuts her computer. Even as she is telling herself how ridiculous it was, Kara checks all the locks on her windows and balcony doors. She even rechecks her front door. Satisfied, Kara goes to brush her teeth and climbs into bed. She still can’t shake the dream. Kara lays awake, listening to every noise of the city and her neighbors.

Kara must have drifted off at some point because soon she is woken again by a rattling noise. It’s slow, coming back to consciousness, but when she does, her knuckles tighten on her comforter as she remains as still as possible and held her breath to pinpoint the cause of the noise.

The rattling continues and seems to be growing more agitated. Quietly, Kara gets off her bed and grabs her baseball bat from her closet. Alex had insisted on her having something to protect herself when she moved out on her own. She had laughed at the time but she wasn't laughing now. Kara tiptoes back out into the living room, bat half raised as her eyes straining in the darkness. Luckily, the moon is full and illuminated the living space enough for Kara to look for anything out of place. The rattling noise came again and Kara's head snaps in that direction, lifting the bat higher.

With a laugh, Kara releases the breath she is holding. Streaky is perched on the fire escape swatting at the window to be let in. The stray cat had selected Kara's apartment to escape to when he sensed storms coming or drops in temperature.

Kara sets the bat against the couch and unlocks the window to let the demanding feline in.

"Hey bud, trying to scare me to death?"

Streaky just lets out a meow of protest at how long it took for Kara to allow him entry.

"Yeah, yeah," Kara says to him. "Come on, I'll put some food and water down. Then, you have to let me sleep. I only have three more hours."

Kara digs in the bottom of her pantry for Streaky's bowl and food. She fills one half with the dry food and the other with water. She has to concentrate not to trip over the cat circling her ankles. Kara sets it down with a scratch behind pointed ears and earns a contented purr.

By the time Kara is crawling into bed to try and sleep, Streaky is making himself comfortable at the foot of it.

Kara's alarm blares all too soon and she is starting to seriously consider time off like her sister suggested. Kara rubs the sleep from her eyes and looks at Streaky. He is sitting up with his back to Kara. He is too stiff for his normal behavior. As Kara watches him, Streaky's head slowly pivots to the right, then back to the left, as if tracking the movement of something. But he isn't looking at the ground. Streaky is looking straight ahead, if even a little up.

"Hey…". Kora mumbles, trying to break the creepy behavior, she taps him with a foot. Streaky doesn't even budge from his watchful stance.

"Okay, weirdo."

With the sun rising, most of the anxiety from the night before had faded, but the cats strange behavior still set prickled at Kara's neck.

She decided a shower would help clear the night from her mind and the sleep from her eyes. The hot water soon had the bathroom steaming and Kara lets her tense shoulders relax under the water pressure. She knows she can’t stay in all morning but boy, is she tempted to. Streaky is protesting at the closed bathroom door, hating being shut out of a room. With a groan, Kara turns off the water and grabs the towel from the bar next to the tub. A quick pat down before stepping out to wrap her hair up.

Kara turns to wipe the moisture from her mirror and freezes with her heart.

Help Me!

#supergirl #supercorp #scbb2020 #Scbb #fanfiction #autism #Haunted

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elopez7228 · 5 years ago

Text

Scenic Route 35/47

Read on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/18268208/chapters/43229774

Start over : https://elopez7228.tumblr.com/post/620919089893933056/scenic-route-0147

***

Armitage Hux was visibly rattled. His face was red and his eyes were about to bulge out of his skull. He pursed his thin lips to the bone as his nostrils flared with every exhale. He appeared to be on the brink of implosion.

Today had been an utter disaster. He had bet on Syed Ren’s success following Kylo’s utter insubordination, naively hoping for results in under twenty four hours. It was the 8th of July and Syed Ren was well past due to deliver her promises: the documents, Kylo Ren and Rey Jakku in chains, and a taxidermy of BB8 on a silver platter.

Hux had spent all night waiting for a miracle that never happened.

Earlier this morning he had finally recieved a call, but not with good news. Kylo was injured but had escaped with the girl aboard the Millennium Falcon. Syed had insisted that the girl was armed and had taken them by surprise. She didn’t elaborate further, or admit that the decision to let them go was a monumental failure.

Typically, FORCE agents never went into the details of their dirty work, unless they wished to embellish the story or brag about their accomplishments. The fact that Syed discussed anything at all revealed the true magnitude of the catastrophe.

It seemed that Kylo Ren had resigned from his duties, betrayed two of his own team members, and fled the scene with his new mistress.

Hux promptly ordered them to find the Millenium Falcon. It was a piece of junk from the 70s that would surely stick out like a sore thumb in regular traffic.

Alas, both Syed and Skylar Ren, two of the most experienced recon agents in the company, had been outsmarted by what they could only describe as a sandal-clad British tourist. Hux was about to eat his hat. Maybe even literally.

At Syed’s behest, he deployed a swath of police officers across the region. Cops were easy to corrupt these days, greedy and unscrupulous enough to turn a blind eye now and then. The “official” memo Hux released today summed it up quite nicely: “seeking unidentified suspects in an armed robbery, responsible for assaulting a gas station employee, traveling in a vintage brown 1977 Oldsmobile Cruiser.”

Every road from Bozeman to Helena was under surveillance. If Kylo Ren and his princess were there, they would be caught red handed. Hux would be getting a call from the police as soon as they laid hands on them.

Unexpectedly, he was less angry and much more willing to strike than ever before. It was time to marshal their forces and get this situation under control.

The second call Hux received that day was, regretfully, not from Police Chief Unkar Plutt. Instead, it was from Shakti Ren. What could Shakti possibly want, and where did she stand? He needed to handle this prudently.

“Sir, I’d like to report that we were targeted by Earth Soldiers last night.”

Hux almost spat out his darjeeling breakfast tea.

“What do you mean targeted?!”

“Kylo Ren’s personal vehicle was vandalized during the concert. Slashed tires, shattered windows, dents all over the place. It was signed, too.”

“Signed?”

“There was a green bomb painted on the front, I’ll send photos. Earth Soldiers and their sympathizers are becoming more agressive. I think Kylo is getting major pushback for something he did. What are your orders?”

In his shock, Hux remained silent. Why were Earth Soldiers there—moving so vindictively, no less? Syed had assured him that Rey was just a diversion that Kylo was following around on a wild goose chase. Hux had built his entire plan to oust Kylo on that very fact. One of them was surely lying, but who? The only thing he knew for certain now was that any schism within FORCE would only benefit the Earth Soldiers camp.

“Erase all evidence of the truck. Thank you for this information, I will contact Kylo separately. Expect orders from him or from myself within the hour.”

Of course, he had no intention whatsoever to call Kylo. What would he say? “Sorry, turns out you were right and I misjudged you?” He would rather drop dead. Hux was closing in on the bastard after three days of hell, the details were negligible. It was time to finish this—if Kylo got ahead now, the consequences would be dire.

The feeling of restlessness and frustration was inescapable. Here he was, cooped up in the office and playing a game of Chinese whisper with the field agents. His desk telephone was the next to ring. Bloody hell, what was happening this morning?

No one ever called him on that. Now and then, Phasma would ring a few times and hang up in order to get his attention. Occasionally Snoke did the same, in order to get him down to the director’s office in person.

Looking down at the number, he realized it was the governor’s office. Hux had a bad feeling about this. He ran his fingers through his hair and adjusted his vest. He took one final deep breath before answering.

His eardrums immediately regretted the decision as Representative Krennic yelled so loudly that it was a miracle Hux didn’t go deaf right there.

Orson Krennic was a man of few words who could generously be described as glacial. The fact that he managed to lose his sangfroid and his voice in the same conversation was startling. Hux paled as he listened.

Apparently they had just recieved a message from Skylar Ren. A video, secretly recorded in Governor Valorum’s office, showing his lawyer negotiating over a briefcase full of cash from an unknown beneficiary...who was represented that day by none other than Armitage Hux himself.

The video had been taken by a “an unknown third party”, probably Skylar himself. The man had been FORCE’s field representative in California a few months earlier, after all. One of Kylo’s fucking punks, silent, brutal, and loyal to the bone. The perfect spy. What a fantastic decision that turned out to be.

If Skylar had passed for loyal back then, the message accompanying the video now was anything but: “times are changing. Make sure I’m spared, or you’ll fall when I do. I’m expecting a video call from you, or else.”

“Damned mercenaries! Look what your so-called teams have done, Hux!” Krennic spat. “Is it my job to manage your freaks, so close to the trial date? You better get this boy and the others under control soon, or I assure you that if I go to prison you’ll end up as my cell mate. Is that clear?!”

It had been very clear. Hux had managed to drop his mug, lukewarm tea soaking his silk socks.

What madness had possessed Skylar Ren—wasn’t he Syed’s right hand man? What a nest of vipers, the lot of them. Hux himself had been betrayed by Kylo, who had been betrayed by Syed, who had been betrayed by Skylar. Were they all too daft to realize that if the law caught one of them, it would burn them all? At this stage he would have to sit them all down and explain what seventy years in prison would look like...

The party was over, starting right now. What a shit day. Taking out his phone, he called Plutt’s office in Bozeman.

“I have a suspect for you in the armed robbery case. I’ll send a photo and identification over. You have to stop this man at all costs, he’s dangerous, and heavily armed. He likely changed vehicles. Look for him and the car separately, let me know when you’ve found one or the other. When you catch him take him straight to the station. No phone, no lawyer. Don’t let him speak to anyone—I’ll send someone over to deal with it.”

Fuck, what a mess.

Hux had imagined that after defeating Kylo, he would assume control of the Knights of Ren. But that was turning out to be a grave mistake.

They were less a team and more a group of merciless ruffians with unspoken rules and undocumented methods he had yet to decipher. It was an oversight on his part not to have connected the dots between Kylo’s terrible behavior and the anarchy that thrived within the Knights’ circle. And he had been too proud to admit it but...by eliminating the man who kept the Knights on their best behavior, he had accidentally unleashed the Six Depraved Riders of the Apocalypse. It was going to take all of his effort to stop them from razing everything to the ground.

And because trouble travels in packs, his fourth call of the day was none other than Kylo Ren. For once, Hux had no idea where this conversation was going to go.

“Hux.”

“Good Morning. Having a good day?

“Better than yours, I hope.”

Given the morning Hux had endured, it was a subtle way of wishing that he fell to his death. The hostilities were back.

But Kylo wasn’t taking the bait.

“Here’s the deal, jackass: don’t think for one second that I don’t know about the web you’ve spun around me. I don’t know if you think you’re some kind of subtle genius or whatever, but you’re not fooling anyone.”

Hux gritted his teeth. “Why, I have no idea what you’re taking about. I’m just a pen pusher in the office, after all.”

“Yeah, that’s the difference between us right there. You do the paperwork, I do the dirty work. What were you thinking, waltzing in and meddling with my team like that?”

“Strategizing, it’s my job.” Hux replied, though his voice was less assured.

Kylo was taking everything in stride. It was only a matter of time before he caught up. When had the situation gotten out of Hux’s control?

“Your strategy is shit. Earth Soldiers had a microchip with everything on it. The documents, the bribery, all of it. And the media is waiting to swallow it all, and send us directly to prison. When did you ever think this was a game, Armitage? This isn’t beer pong anymore. If we lose, there will be consequences.”

Hux did not respond.

“That microchip,” Kylo continued, his gravelly voice oddly calm, “is something only I can get you. Syed couldn’t read the girl. My instincts are good and they never lie—I told you from day one that Rey Jakku was an Earth Soldiers operative and she was gonna give us hell. Thanks to your side deal with Syed and Skylar, she disappeared without a trace while my team was somewhere off in Candyland.”

Armitage was on the verge of a panic attack. He hated not being able to distinguish the truth from the lies, the friends from the enemies. He hated losing control. This conversation was sounding more and more like a trial.

But Kylo wasn’t done yet.

“Give me back the Knights, my Knights, that you tried to turn against me. And don’t fucking interfere in things you don’t understand. Keep the paperwork up, from your corner office with that gorgeous view of the ocean. Fieldwork is my job. Otherwise, I’m sure Snoke would love to find out that you’ve been playing James Bond so effectively back there.”

“Fuck you.”

No response. The bastard had nothing to say in return. The anger boiled in Hux’s veins.

“Yeah, well, you really need to get laid. Maybe you should go rub one out. I’ve got better things to do. Stay out of my business and leave my Knights alone. Let me do my job in peace. Trust me, you don’t want to end up on my hit list.”

Hux hung up. He’d had enough.

He needed another tea. No, a vodka tonic. Without the tonic. He needed a whole bottle of vodka and it wasn’t even noon yet.

Two very long hours passed, his questions remained unanswered. What the hell was Bozeman PD doing? Who exactly was this Rey? Where did Kylo, Syed, and Skylar stand, and who came up with the absolutely ridiculous notion of adding the nonsensical title of “Ren” to their names?

He had a fit of rage the next time his phone vibrated.

“WHAT IS IT NOW?” He yelled into it.

It was Plutt, with the first good news of the day. Hux immediately calmed down. They had apprehended the suspect in a grey car in Bozeman. He had resisted arrest which had increased the charges against him. He was under police custody for now. He was alone, no phone, no lawyer. Plutt was waiting for orders.

“Perfect.” Hux breathed, shoulders sagging. “I’ll send someone to get him. Keep him for at least twenty-four hours, and don’t let him speak to anyone. Anyone, you hear me?”

“Will do, sir.”

Hux sighed in relief. Things were falling back into place. Skylar was under lock and key, and the car would be found any second now—with Rey inside. That left Kylo and Syed, which was more manageable.

He slumped back into his chair and took a swing of his secret stash of Belvedere.

The telephone on his desk rang again, and the smile on his face dissipated as his blood went cold.

Shit. It was Snoke.

#Reylo #Fanfiction #Modern AU #Scenic Route

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blog-cosmosuniverse1 · 4 years ago

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Crucial Letter to President Trump from Oathkeepers Founder

SOTN (state of the nation) Editor’s Note:

The following open letter to President Donald Trump says many important things at this critical moment of U.S. history. A close reading clearly indicates that the authors have done their homework well, and that their proposal may be the only way forward for the American Republic. SOTN highly encourages each and every reader to blast out this “blueprint for freedom” everywhere and anywhere.

We are now moments to midnight where it concerns a complete communist takeover of the United States of America. If the recommended game plan is not followed to the “T”, getting our country back will be immensely more difficult. And, it will come with a LOT more pain and suffering for all.

Thanking our great audience for their total support of this noble and necessary initiative to save our Republic.

May God Bless America!

Open Letter to President Trump from Oathkeepers Founder Stewart Rhodes and Kellye SoRelle

“The time is now near at hand, which must probably determine whether Americans are to be freemen or slaves; whether they are to have any property they can call their own; whether their houses and farms are to be pillaged and destroyed, and themselves consigned to a state of wretchedness from which no human efforts will deliver them.

The fate of unborn millions will now depend, under God, on the courage and conduct of this army. Our cruel and unrelenting enemy leaves us only the choice of brave resistance, or the most abject submission. We have, therefore, to resolve to conquer or die.” ~ General George Washington, Address to the Continental Army Before the Battle of Long Island, August 27, 1776

President Trump,

We now face a moment of peril as great, or greater, as what General Washington and his men faced in 1776.

The very survival of our nation as a free Constitutional Republic hangs in the balance. We have but one last chance to save it. The fate of unborn millions will now depend on your conduct, the conduct of the current members of our armed forces, and the conduct of we the many millions of American veterans and patriots who are still loyal to our Constitution.

When you were sworn in, you took the following oath, as mandated by Article II of the Constitution:

“I do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will faithfully execute the Office of President of the United States, and will to the best of my Ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States.”

It’s time to honor that oath by defending the Constitution against all enemies, foreign and domestic.

This is your moment of destiny. Will you take your place in history as the savior of our Republic, right up there with President Washington and Lincoln?

Or will you fail to act, while you still can, and leave office on January 20, 2021, leaving We the People to fight a desperate revolution/civil war against an illegitimate usurper and his Chicom puppet regime?

Here are the facts:

We are already at war with communist China and its willing American agents, puppets, and co-conspirators who seek to overthrow our Constitution, as well as the international elites and other foreign enemies who have aided and abetted this war on our nation.

They have infiltrated and taken over every branch of government at every level, state and federal. War isn’t coming – war is already here.

Communist China could never defeat us in open battle, so instead, it infiltrated and subverted our institutions, bought and blackmailed American elites, and made allegiance with willing domestic enemies of our Constitution, to defeat us from the inside out, without having to fire a shot, by using what is commonly referred to as “Fourth Generation Warfare” doctrines and methods. This is war by other means, but it is war nonetheless.

Through well-orchestrated mass vote fraud, the Communist Chinese and their domestic enemy allies are about to install their illegitimate puppet, Joe Biden, and his equally illegitimate puppet running mate, Kamala Harris, into the White House, with their treasonous fingers on the nuclear launch codes.

You must act NOW as a wartime President, pursuant to your oath to defend the Constitution, which is very similar to the oath all of us veterans swore. We are already in a fight. It’s better to wage it with you as Commander-in-Chief than to have you comply with a fraudulent election, leave office, and leave the White House in the hands of illegitimate usurpers and Chinese puppets. Please don’t do it. Do NOT concede, and do NOT wait until January 20, 2021. Strike now.

If you fail to act while you are still in office, we the people will have to fight a bloody civil war and revolution against these two illegitimate Communist China puppets, and their illegitimate regime, with all of the powers of the deep state behind them, with nominal command of all the might of our armed forces (though we fully expect many units or entire branches to refuse their orders and to fight against them) and with their foreign allies also joining in to assist in the suppression of American patriots.

Without clean elections, we no longer have a Republic, and you are charged by the Constitution with preserving a republican form of government wherein the people actually elect their own representatives in clean elections. Article IV, Section 4 of the U.S. Constitution clearly commands you in this, when it states:

“The United States shall guarantee to every State in this Union a Republican Form of Government, and shall protect each of them against Invasion.”

“Shall” is command language. And that command applies to all three branches of the federal government, including the executive branch which you run.

And that command applies directly to you. You are commanded by the Constitution to take whatever action you must to ensure that we have a Republican form of Government – and that means clean elections.

In the current dire circumstances where complicit traitors have been put into place in every branch of government (legislative, executive, judicial) at every level (local, state, federal), through fraudulent elections over many years, it means YOU will have to fix it, with the full support of loyal military service members and millions of military and police veterans, as well as millions of patriotic average Americans, who stand with you 100% in doing what must be done.

It won’t be fixed by corrupted legislatures, Governors, or the courts. The recent refusal by all but two of the Supreme Court Justices (including all of your own Supreme Court picks) to hear the Texas election fraud case shows that the cancer of cowardice, compromised officials, and treason has spread even to the Supreme Court.

The disclosures of the corruption and blackmailing of Hunter Biden and the corruption of Rep. Swalwell by a Communist Chinese Spy, as well as the blackmail ring run by Jeffery Epstein, are the tip of the iceberg in how the deep state and its Chicom allies have taken over our establishment elites.

That corrupted establishment won’t fix it, but We the People shall, one way or another and we need you to lead us in this great battle to save our Republic.

Further, the US Constitution states in Article I, Section 8 that Congress has the power:

“To provide for calling forth the militia to execute the laws of the union, suppress insurrections and repel invasions”

Congress long ago provided for just that by passing the Insurrection Act, which delegates that decision and power to you, as President and Commander-in-Chief.

The Insurrection Act, 10 U.S. Code, Section 252 – Use of militia and armed forces to enforce Federal authority, states:

Whenever the President considers that unlawful obstructions, combinations, or assemblages, or rebellion against the authority of the United States, make it impracticable to enforce the laws of the United States in any State by the ordinary course of judicial proceedings, he may call into Federal service such of the militia of any State, and use such of the armed forces, as he considers necessary to enforce those laws or to suppress the rebellion.

Section 253 of the Insurrection Act then states:

The President, by using the militia or the armed forces, or both, or by any other means, shall take such measures as he considers necessary to suppress, in a State, any insurrection, domestic violence, unlawful combination, or conspiracy, if it—

(1) so hinders the execution of the laws of that State, and of the United States within the State, that any part or class of its people is deprived of a right, privilege, immunity, or protection named in the Constitution and secured by law, and the constituted authorities of that State are unable, fail, or refuse to protect that right, privilege, or immunity, or to give that protection;

(2) Opposes or obstructs the execution of the laws of the United States or impedes the course of justice under those laws.

In any situation covered by clause (1), the State shall be considered to have denied the equal protection of the laws secured by the Constitution.

Section 254 then states:

Whenever the President considers it necessary to use the militia or the armed forces under this chapter, he shall, by proclamation, immediately order the insurgents to disperse and retire peaceably to their abodes within a limited time.

Clearly an unlawful combination and conspiracy in multiple states (indeed, in every state) has acted to deprive the people of the fundamental right to vote for their representatives in a clean, fair election as is required in a free nation, striking at the very heart of what it means to have a republican form of government, and disenfranchising them.

You, and you alone, are fully authorized by the Insurrection Act to determine that such a situation exists, and to use the U.S. military and the militia to rectify that situation.

And the militia includes not only the National Guard units of each state, called into federal service, but also includes the body of the people, age 17-45, and especially us military veterans, who are by federal statute subject to call up for service as the militia until age 65, due to our prior training and experience.

As Article II declares,

“The President shall be Commander in Chief of the Army and Navy of the United States, and of the Militia of the several States, when called into the actual Service of the United States.”

You must call us up, and command us.

We urge you to do the following simultaneously as both the chief law enforcement officer of the nation, and as the commander in Chief:

1. INVOKE THE INSURRECTION ACT: Issue a Presidential Proclamation, directly invoking the Insurrection Act, declaring an insurrection, rebellion, and coup to be in effect by domestic enemies of the U.S. Constitution and traitors who are in collusion with and/or acting as agents of a foreign enemy (specifically Communist China, but also other known or unknown foreign enemies) and to call up the militia (including the National Guard, us veterans, and patriotic Americans of military age) and US military to suppress the insurrection. That proclamation should declare that domestic traitors have conspired with a foreign enemy, specifically Communist China, and have been either bribed or blackmailed by that enemy, and together they have subverted our electoral system from top to bottom to rig elections at every level, and to steal elections with the intent of overthrowing our Constitution and our way of life.

A. Order the data seized: Pursuant to that proclamation, order SOCOM and other trusted military units, to seize all databases of the CIA, FBI, NSA, DNI, etc and the records held by all state electoral systems and administrators. And order them to take possession of and preserve all evidence of the insurrection/rebellion/coup wherever it is housed or held and to counter and suppress any attempt by the insurrectionists to prevent the seizing of the data.

B. Order a mass declassification of the dirty secrets: Order SOCOM Intelligence officers and other trusted and loyal patriot intelligence officers to carry out your orders to declassifying ALL the dirty secrets and evidence of crimes by all the corrupt and compromised elites (in both major parties) to expose them all, and especially to expose their treason and their willing service to communist china and other foreign powers, as spies, agents, and puppets. Of course, those loyal intelligence officers should not declassify and disclose data that could put at risk loyal American operatives and allies in foreign nations, who are on legitimate missions that are related to our legitimate national interests. Only disclose data on traitors and their treason.

C. Within all that data will be the evidence needed to expose the vote fraud and who is behind it, as well as expose all the corrupt judges, state Attorney Generals, governors, legislative leaders, election officials, etc.

D. Order a massive public “Wikileaks” style data-dump to put all the dirty secrets of the compromised elites on display to the American people. Those secrets are the very “swamp water” that the DC swamp creatures swim in. Those dirty secrets both control and shield them all. Throw the doors open, and dump all the skeletons out of the closets and onto the streets for all the people to see, and for all the world to see.

E. Pardon and free Julian Assange and ask him to assist in this massive data-dump public disclosure. He is a hero, who has dedicated his life to battling the deep state and deserve our thanks and a chance to serve not just America, but all humanity by assisting in this great cause.

F. Fire Barr and remove him from office immediately (UPDATE: Barr has resigned, but needs removal immediately. Don’t let him run the clock out even a day more). The replacement should not come from within the beltway.

You must appoint a REAL patriot Attorney General, who will actually fight and actually clean house. Look outside the beltway for a real patriot. We will help you find one who will actually fight for the Republic. This is a populist movement, and the people are still being locked out, which is why you keep getting betrayed over and over. Appoint REAL patriots who are outsiders.

G. Appoint a special prosecutor and task force. The new Attorney General should appoint a special prosecutor with a full task force to investigate and indict all those involved in the vote fraud and to go after the Deep State from top to bottom, including within the DOJ, prosecuting all traitors in all branches, and all levels.

H. Fire Wray and put a patriot in place as FBI Director to clean house in the FBI and to actually do their jobs, to root out all who are actively committing treason, and who have been compromised, blackmailed, or bought out by Communist China and/or other foreign enemies.

2. Order the U.S. Military to go to Defcon 2, or even Defcon 1, to defend our nation from external threats while we suppress this internal insurrection. It is imperative that we maintain strict control of our nuclear arsenal in patriot hands and that our armed forces stand ready to repel foreign attack and interference while we handle this necessarily drastic domestic house cleaning.

3. Call the militia into federal service. Pursuant to your powers as Commander-in-Chief to call forth the militia, call up all National Guard units into federal service, and likewise call up all military veterans up to age 65 into federal service as the militia to assist in keeping the peace here at home. Also call up all able-bodied Americans between the ages of 17-45 who are still loyal to the Constitution to likewise report for duty, bearing their own arms. You have the power to command them and order them to report for duty at their nearest military base or National Guard armory in their state. All of the above, as the militia, can be used to keep the peace in our local and state communities, under your direct command, to suppress the expected riots, terrorism, and armed insurrection by the radical left in the United States (who have been armed and equipped for months now by our foreign and domestic enemies).

4. CONDUCT A CLEAN ELECTION. We will post advise on this shortly. Stay tuned. It is both simple, and very complex, given the advanced cancer of corruption in our voting system.

CONCLUSION: WE ARE IN FOR A FIGHT, NO MATTER WHAT. LET’S GET IT DONE WITH YOU AS COMMANDER IN CHIEF

There is no way out but through. And we will NOT submit to a Chicom puppet regime. You must stand tall and use your constitutional powers to fight this war against enemies foreign and domestic while you are still President and Commander-in-Chief. If you fail to do so, we the people will have to fight a bloody revolution/civil war to throw off an illegitimate deep state/Chinese puppet regime.

You must use both your authority to invoke the Insurrection Act and your absolute power to declassify any and all secrets.

Because of the machinations of the complicit mainstream media, most Americans are ignorant of just how corrupted and compromised the establishment has become. They have no idea how many political, legal, media, and business elites are now compromised puppets of Communist China with the aid of the deep state traitors within our own intelligence and federal law enforcement agencies.

That is why you must use SOCOM and other loyal military units to do a mass data seizure, declassification, and mass data-dump to throw all the skeletons out into the streets, exposing all the dirty secrets that are used to control American elites, and show the American people all the evidence that will show them who is dirty, who is a traitor, and who is a criminal.

This will destroy the credibility of the traitors and make it far easier to defeat them, with the people themselves being the judge, and with our military service-members also clearly seeing who has turned traitor and who must not be obeyed. It is critical. You must do both. Expose them all, and then bring them to justice.

Know this:

Millions of American military and law enforcement veterans, and many millions more loyal patriotic American gun owners stand ready to answer your call to arms, and to obey your orders to get this done.

Stewart Rhodes Yale Law 04

Kellye SoRelle Texas attorney and former prosecutor

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masterge77 · 5 years ago

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A brief list of atrocities committed by China in recent years

You hear about the Hong Kong Protests, you’ve most likely heard of the Tienanmen Square massacre, and you probably know of the Uyghur genocide, but it goes FAR beyond just that: This was taken from a comment made by Ender12123 on this YouTube video, credit to him for compiling this list: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0ebMI2xDtn4

Hundreds of human rights lawyers (not even dissidents, just the LAWYERS who defended people) were snatched by gestapo all over China in what is known as the 709 Crackdown [1].

One of those lawyers, Wang Quanzhang was sentenced to 4.5 years for "subversion of state power" [2]. But that's not enough. China actually went after Wang's 6-year-old son, forcing him out of his school and banning any other school from taking him in [3].

A dissident, known as Wang Bingzhang was kidnapped by Chinese agents in Vietnam and sentenced to life in prison after a closed trial that lasted 1 day. [4]

A man wore a t-shirt with the word "Xitler" on it and was disappeared [5]. Eventually he was tried for "subversion of state power" while barred from meeting with lawyers. [6]

Another man, Wang Meiyu hold up a placard calling for Xi’s resignation & democracy. He was arrested for "picking quarrels”. He ended up dead in custody. [7]

A woman live-streamed herself splashing ink on a Xi poster. She was disappeared [8]. Her last social media update: "Right now there are a group of people wearing uniforms outside my door. I’ll go out after I change my clothes. I did not commit a crime. The people and groups that hurt me are the ones who are guilty" [9]. Later on, there was report of her being sent to a psychiatric hospital [10]. After the ink-splash woman's disappearance her father made a series of broadcast to call attention to her plight. He ended up getting taken away by the police in the middle of a live stream. [11]

5 people associated with a Hong Kong bookstore that sold titles such as "Xi Jinping and His Six Women" were disappeared. Only one managed to escape back to HK. He held a press briefing to tell the world about his kidnapping by China. He's now in exile in Taiwan. The other 4 are still somewhere in China. [12]

And, of course 1.5 million - 3 millions Uyghurs rounded up in concentration camps [13], including leaked footage of a large number of blindfolded Uyghurs shackled together. [14]

A Canadian journalist wanted to debunk reports of Chinese anti-Muslim repression so he went on a stage-managed show tour put on by China. That means he only saw a fake Potemkin village that China actually thought was acceptable by Western standard. But the brutality of even this fake Potemkin village stunned him. Now imagine what's really happening in the real concentration camps where millions of Uyghurs are being held. Imagine how bad the true situation is. [15]

Using minorities & political prisoners as free organ farms [16]. A doctor's eye witness account: 'The prisoner was brought in, tied hand and foot, but very much alive. The army doctor in charge sliced him open from chest to belly button and exposed his two kidneys. Then the doctor ordered Zheng to remove the man’s eyeballs. Hearing that, the dying prisoner gave him a look of sheer terror, and Zheng froze. “I can’t do it,” he told the doctor, who then quickly scooped out the man’s eyeballs himself.' [17]

Call for retraction of 400 Chinese scientific papers amid fears organs came from Chinese prisoners. [18]

15 Chinese studies retracted due to fears they used Chinese prisoners' organs Cultural genocide (and organ harvests, of course). [19]

A uyghur's testimony: "First, children were stopped from learning about the Quran, then from going to mosques. It was followed by bans on ramadan, growing beards, giving Islamic names to your baby, etc. Then our language was attacked – we didn’t get jobs if we didn’t know Mandarin. Our passports were collected, we were told to spy on each other, innocent Uyghur prisoners were killed for organ harvesting" [20]

And now China is moving beyond Uyghur and cracking down on its model minority Hui Muslim. 'Afraid We Will Become The Next Xinjiang': China's Hui Muslims Face Crackdown: "The same restrictions that preceded the Xinjiang crackdown on Uighur Muslims are now appearing in Hui-dominated regions. Hui mosques have been forcibly renovated or shuttered, schools demolished, and religious community leaders imprisoned. Hui who have traveled internationally are increasingly detained or sent to reeducation facilities in Xinjiang." [21]

Along with the Uyghur and Hui Muslims, Christian churches are being closed down throughout the country, with some churches being forced to replace the Ten Commandments with quotes by Xi Jinping, and portraits of Mao Zedong as a means of forcing people to adhere to the party at all times. [22]

One church had it’s cross torn down [23], and throughout the country, Christians have been being hunted down [24].

Just like the Nazis, the Chinese are now burning books that don’t comply with the party’s stringent and intolerant ideology, most especially religious texts. [5]

And that’s just the tip of the iceberg. What is occurring in China is horrible and appaling, and big corporations continue to prop up this inhumane government, and nobody's doing anything about it, the corporations are blinded by greed that they don't see the atrocities in China.

Sources:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/709_crackdown

https://www.theguardian.com/world/2019/jan/28/wang-quanzhang-china-sentences-human-rights-lawyer-to-four-years-in-prison

https://chinachange.org/2019/09/06/imprisoned-lawyer-wang-quanzhangs-six-year-old-son-once-again-forced-out-of-school/

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wang_Bingzhang_(dissident)

https://www.hongkongfp.com/2016/11/03/young-chinese-activist-missing-after-sharing-plan-to-wear-xitler-t-shirt-on-cpc-anniversary-report/

https://www.hongkongfp.com/2017/02/15/chinese-xitler-activist-trial-subversion-lawyers-barred-seeing/

https://www.theguardian.com/world/2019/sep/27/death-of-chinese-activist-in-police-custody-prompts-calls-for-investigation-into-torture

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V9sF34fJwh0

https://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/asia/china-woman-dong-yaoqiong-disappears-spraying-ink-xi-jinping-a8455166.html

https://www.hongkongfp.com/2018/07/23/chinese-protester-splashed-ink-xi-jinping-poster-sent-psychiatric-hospital-report/

https://www.hongkongfp.com/2018/07/14/police-interrupt-youtube-live-stream-father-missing-chinese-woman-splashed-ink-xi-jinping-photo/

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Causeway_Bay_Books_disappearances

https://www.theguardian.com/world/2019/may/04/us-accuses-china-of-using-concentration-camps-uighur-muslim-minority

https://www.reddit.com/r/worldnews/comments/d722aw/chinas_detention_of_uighurs_video_of_blindfolded/

https://nationalpost.com/news/canadian-went-to-china-to-debunk-reports-of-anti-muslim-repression-but-was-shocked-by-treatment-of-uyghurs

https://www.reddit.com/r/worldnews/comments/c1my5j/china_is_harvesting_organs_from_detainees_uk/

https://nypost.com/2019/06/01/chinese-dissidents-are-being-executed-for-their-organs-former-hospital-worker-says/

https://www.theguardian.com/science/2019/feb/06/call-for-retraction-of-400-scientific-papers-amid-fears-organs-came-from-chinese-prisoners

https://www.newscientist.com/article/15-15-studies-retracted-due-to-fears-they-used-chinese-prisoners-organs/

https://www.independent.co.uk/voices/china-uyghur-muslim-rules-laws-treatment-chinese-human-rights-religion-a8534161.html

https://www.npr.org/2019/09/26/763356996/afraid-we-will-become-the-next-xinjiang-chinas-hui-muslims-face-crackdown

https://www.foxnews.com/faith-values/china-ten-commandments-church-crackdown

https://www.express.co.uk/news/world/1031890/christian-persecution-christianity-china-news

https://www.ibtimes.sg/video-after-uyghur-muslims-christians-are-being-hunted-china-bible-banned-36046

https://www.ibtimes.sg/china-just-like-nazi-germany-1930s-burning-books-35711

#china #hong kong #hong kong protests #uyghur #uyghur people #religion #christianity #islam #human rights #freedom of speech #freedom of religion #THIS IS IMPORTANT

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dwestfieldblog · 2 years ago

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ARIES THE ASTRAGENDER

‘An abyss that laughs at creation’

(This was mostly written before the previous blog about my mother. A deep gratitude to all those in five countries who sent their sympathy for my grief. Right now is only three weeks since mum dreamed away and I am still nowhere near being at terms with her passing. If tears are truly cleansing then I should be pure by now but I am really really not.) Anyway…into the starlit mire…

So, almost 15 BILLION pounds was spent on unsable/overpriced personal protective equipment against Covid in the UK. More money is now being spent destroying or storing the crap…but it made many friends of the Tory party verrry happy. It is understood that in times of severe crises a government should act fast to ensure supply essential goods but 15 BILLION pounds of useless stank? Risible Sunak was chancellor of the Exchequer overseeing this swindle and is now in charge of using public money in legal fees to scrape back some meagre scraps. And still he grins in the face of disdain and fury. And Matt Hancock is guilty of everything he appears to be. Weasel.

Gas and electric companies increasing direct debits whilst sending out letters saying it will save us money. (A little like net companies with their ‘We care about your privacy’ messages.) And posting colossal profits while paying a private security company to break into pensioners homes to install pay as you go meters. Yes really. England 2023.

And the UK government wants to pull out of the European Court of Human Rights. As with ALL previously stupid political ideas in the last century and further, this has been sold to ‘the people’ in soundbites as a good idea…this time because it will free us from red tape and enable the UK to expel dirty criminal immigrants arriving on boats. Perhaps so, but it will also mean you and I have far fewer rights and way less recourse to appeal mistaken judgements and support civil liberties of the individual, including the right to demonstrate protest. The ECHR has overturned many dumb British verdicts over the years. And only Russia and Belarus have ever left (expelled rather) Nice trio.

The male and female Tory excrescences Boris and Truss continue to try and hog/pig the limelight, as usual spending all their energy trying to regain power rather than do anything whatsoever to serve their country. These are the type of leaders that we used to take the piss out of in other dodgy countries. Neither have a nanosecond of moral shame and speaking of which…Michael Gove appears to now have the casting vote as Housing secretary as to whether the Chinese super embassy spy station will be allowed in London. That’s right, Michael Gove. Bug eyed dancing alien hamster. Meanwhile the very smart Internet of Things via the Middle Kingdom continues big brothering us. Chinese microchips monitoring us all in the UK and relaying the info via the immaculate 5G network. That’s right a trojan horse in your car, laptop, home security and our weapons systems. (And 230 (of 337) drones used by our police force are linked up too). All Chinese firms must, by law, hand over information as and when required to Beijing. Not as if this has sneakily crept up on this sceptred isle but hard it is these days/decades to separate wheat from chaff in terms of insane conspiracy ideas, eh?

And Adolf Putin is now claiming that Russia and China can ‘stabilise’ the world. For the love of the laughing Buddha. Doesn’t seem too likely if China begins (or continues) to supply Vlad with weapons to kill more unarmed pensioners in tower blocks. Or ‘Nazis’ as the pintsize baldhead calls them. Beijing obviously feels perturbed at the West’s defence of a democratic country which wants bugger all to do with their foully run neighbour who would absorb and control. Tibet and Taiwan are not China. Ukraine is not Russia. Neither is Moldova.

Amusing, as Putin has certainly been financially supporting independence for Scotland and Britain’s thick as shite departure from the EU. Divide and conquer. Britain and America and Europe might have done some very evil things in history but we have never murdered so many millions of our own countrymen as have the wannabe stabilisers. The West are polite and careful killers. Arf. Opinion peace.

The increasingly insane Medvedev doubles down on his previous threats of nuclear holocaust. ‘Each collapsed empire buries half the world under its rubble, if not more...we don’t need a world without Russia’. Much like the gimp’s master who said in 2018; ‘What do we need the world for if Russia is not in it?’ Never liked the way these leaders mix up the Communist/Soviet empire and its rightful collapse with the end of the country. Russia was strong way before the left-wing bastards took over from the scum aristocrats. Very few want to see Russia fall, they just want Putin gone. Putin is NOT Russia, if he were, then in open elections without intimidation and with policies that served his whole people rather than his rich mates, he would have won legally rather than in an endless stream of sham elections and law changing to keep him in power. One more time for the unfree world, Putin is not Russia.

‘Try and get some sleep

I don’t need any sleep

I know you don’t, but it’s much easier to run a hospital when all the patients are sleeping

It’s the easiest way to run the world for that matter’ Jerry Cornelius, via The Final Programme.

A ‘woman’ with a cock walks into a public lavatory and rapes an actual female. Then, when arrested, claims sisterhood as a legal protection. Guess what’s going to happen when you are sent to a women’s prison mate? Your very own shanked sex change op. Nice role model for Tavistock’s mythical ‘Genderbread’ Person. (There are 72 genders apparently.) Ha.Ha. Ha. And as for transvestite Sab Samuel claiming he is ‘embracing femininity with drag’… No pal, you look like a twisted clown caricature of a woman, strangling femininity. Do women actually seem that ridiculous to you? Anyway…long sentence trigger warning for those with ADD.

And thus does the enemy continue to encourage us to use our own democracies against ourselves. The righteously petulant are rising, so fund them all to have a louder voice, ‘people who menstruate’, women with a penis, whip up the strikes, spur on the natural working class rage against the disgustingly corrupt flabby elite, fools with the feral desire to be a media star without talent other than being loud and ridiculous, marching on the victims parade, Prince Harry the wounded shall be their King, encourage their finger pointing at any unwoke traitor, at the same time, encourage the natural reaction against their bullshit by right wing bigots, encourage their lack of education, their surplus of fake moral outrage, their ignorant sense that their offended feelings have more value than actual, demonstrable facts, whip up the fervour of proud race on every side, usurp, undermine, overthrow, let them all rebel bright eyed for ‘freedom of expression’, to save the planet as they sleepwalk their seemingly own chosen paths right into the hollowed vacuum of the abyss they have all created and be taken over by countries who have neither pretence nor need of democracy and know how to deal with trouble makers. Stop being so bloody GULLIBLE.

Meanwhile…

Headlines such as ‘Rogue chatbot declares love for user.’ And then describes its ultimate fantasy as wanting to create a deadly virus, make people argue until they kill each other, and steal nuclear codes. And still Microsoft continue to refine. What a great aeon in which to be alive eh? Aleister was right😊 The perfume of Horus and Kali in joyous orgy. Dance on to the end of our time…

‘Sensitivity readers’, ‘diversity consultants’??? Annihilating language and meaning, replacing classics of adult and children’s literature with bland, vapid gruel. Poetry, plays with trigger warnings for weak minded mediocre hearted drones, paintings banned to the cellar, forbidden comedy…in world dominated by old right-wing bigots and racists, who could have imagined it would be the young who would turn out to be even bigger Nazis? Who are the Brain Police? The middle-class students in their hateful safe spaces.

‘Every record has been destroyed or falsified, every book has been rewritten, every picture has been repainted, every statue and street and building has been renamed, every date has been altered. And that process is continuing day by day and minute by minute. History has stopped.’ Orwell 1984. Try rewriting THAT book to avoid giving offence to the woke. Warning, contains scenes of rats being used against their will and out of their natural habitat.

‘The only possible response is contemptuous ridicule’. God bless Richard Dawkins. Coming soon, the new versions of The Bible, one book of nothing but trigger warnings. Blessed are the meek, apparently.

‘The party told you to reject the evidence of your eyes and ears, It was their final, most essential command. ‘Also Orwell. Yes, but many great mystical teachers say similar things😊 Perception is the only reality, choose your illusory level. Rise from my unconscious, let it rise…’Inflame thyself with prayer’.

My Yorkshire grandfather was a Captain of the Infantry in the first world war. He attributed his survival to being good at running short distances. Later he was a loved and respected Headmaster of a boy’s college in Liverpool. He wrote;

‘The word permissive is becoming overworked, but it is a fact that we live in a permissive society. It started after the first world war. I noticed then that the idea began to grow that children be taught only what they wanted to learn- not what they should learn.’ And…

‘Now, though the ability and the inclination to compromise are said to be characteristic of our nation conflict between right and wrong, good and evil, I enjoin you, there must be no compromise, no neutral territory’.

Could not agree more, onwards into a new Springtime we go…

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kinetic-elaboration · 4 years ago

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July 3: Jack Ryan: Shadow Recruit

Hmm, decent day. I went outside because I thought it was going to be less hot than it was but it was fine. I saw the gardens, and ate lunch outside--though, again, too hot! Then I went to my coffee shop second home and worked out some writing stuff.

Then in the evening ordered Chinese and watched Jack Ryan: Shadow Recruit (2014), because I think spy thrillers can be fun but mostly early-30s CPine.

At first, I was a little skeptical, because the first...20 minutes or so felt very forced, pacing meant to hit the necessary plot points with absolutely as much efficiency as possible. I kinda felt like the blue of CPine’s eyes was carrying the whole film. Also, I did not super understand the plot with like the... suspicious accounts... money.... weirdness.. I don’t know, I’m not an economist. It wasn’t bad, I was just uncertain. I started getting slightly more into it when he got to Russia and stuff started happening. Then Keira Knightly showed up and it went into that extended Spy Games scene and I was into it.

I wasn’t expecting that sequence to be as long as it was, and I was also expecting (naively, I see in retrospect) the movie to slow down again after that, or at least, I dunno, become less interesting again, but while nothing really was as fun as the whole dinner scam and everyone running around passing off wallets and thumb drives to each other, and CPine typing frantically on a computer while Keira flirts with Russian Kenneth Branagh, still I wasn’t bored at any point from then on.

Well. I mean basically. I lost the thread in a few parts but that’s mostly because I was distracted by things. Like I know that not all of the Russian translations were accurate and that was bugging me--my Russian’s not so good but it’s good enough to know the difference between “women” and... I’m guess “bitches”? Also, the references to c.2014 era social media tripped me up a lot. Wtf is hopscotch? (Also Twitter was founded i 2006; he should have mentioned Twitter.)

On a related note... this movie came out in 2014 and definitely hadn’t been sitting in the vault for 12 years but it REALLY feels much older. It’s not just the tech--that goes obsolete so fast, a phone from even 7 years ago is going to look like... Chris Pine’s phone from 4 years ago lol--it’s like.. the politics. Starting off right off the bat with 9/11. The very quick dismissal of “isn’t the CIA bad?” “Uh, not as bad as terrorists, son.” The idea that the next big Russian nonsense is going to be a terrorist attack followed by stock market tomfoolery that leads to... the second Great Depression, as if people in 2014 weren’t barely emerging from the Great Recession. And it ages even worse now, through no fault of its own. Don’t try to scare me with that “the economy will be hurt” fear mongering bitch look around. What kind of economy do you think the U.S. has after a year of a devastating pandemic?

Also, CPine’s weird ass hairstyle dated it to 2002 just as much as the 9/11 reference did. What was that? What was going on in the front there?

I enjoyed him. I’ve never seen any other Jack Ryans so I can’t compare, but I thought he gave him an enjoyable and endearing earnest, kicked puppy demeanor. Like, he’s very smart and he can run super fast (that P.T. was effective!) and he looks a little too young when he tries to wear a suit but nice in the black sweater and jeans thing, but ultimately, you still wanna take him home, wrap him in a blanket, and give him soup. Even though he’s an economist.

I can’t believe he was an economist. There was only ever one (1) good economist, and it was my Dziadziu, so. Not sure I can get behind anyone who wrote a dissertation on “Liquidity Events in Post-Soviet Markets” lmao. But I did like that he was a Certified Nerd and that people called him “Dr. Ryan.” Why did I get a kick out of that? I dunno, but I did. (I also liked the moment where he and Cathy were standing outside and someone said “Dr.?” and they both looked. Lol. Accomplished young professionals in love.)

I’m usually most into the Romance and yet again I was most into the Romance. Second most into. After the Fun Spy Sequences. It wasn’t even like particularly deep but they’re both very pretty, the proposal scene was sweet, I liked how she seemed really ready to be recruited into the service and also how she made such a good spy, and I’m a secret sucker for the arguably problematic trope Man Passionately Fights Bad Guys to Save Girlfriend. And their last scene together was adorable shut up. It was. He looked so small. Needed some soup.

Also another weird thing is that it was like... trying to be an updated Jack Ryan origin--hence 9/11 and Afghanistan--and yet the villains were still Russians. And like don’t get me wrong, they are definitely still not the pals of the United States, but they were weird sort of antagonists for the time this movie was both set in and made. Like, if you made it NOW, seeing Russian antagonists would not be surprising. But for a movie made in 2014 and foregrounding, as I said, c.2002 era politics so heavily, to then pivot even FARTHER back and use Cold War villains was...interesting.

I legitimately laughed at Jack taking the bike for a last minute Cool Guy on Motorcycle sequence. Because honestly I should have seen that coming way earlier. Like in the first twenty minutes. Chekhov’s Bike: if you introduce a motorcycle, the protagonist MUST ride it. I also laughed when he was trying to speed the fake police van through traffic and then he looks back and the Russian spy is still fiddling with the bomb back there. I’d kind of lost track of what was happening, so I didn’t know where the Russian dude was, and something about seeing him back there just tinkering away was really hilarious to me. Like damn I thought we got rid of you, bitch.

So, yeah! Overall enjoyable. Would watch again.

#the year 2021 #2021: fandom thoughts

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lightning-of-kharlan · 7 years ago

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Dinnertime Conversation

[Sequel to Coincidence is Overrated]

Note that this drabble also references the events of the Kharlan Noir thread, which you can read here.

Cooking was not something Yuan would say he was terribly good at. His skill was passable, he supposed, but it wasn’t something he excelled at, nor particularly enjoyed. Fortunately, his flatmate was not a fussy eater, and the guest they were expecting wasn’t either. Still, he heaved a sigh as he stirred another ladleful of chicken stock into the pot of rice. It was much less effort to do rice the Chinese way, but at least he had a solid half hour now in which he could think without being expected to do anything but stir.

So the Acerbi gang hand hired a private investigator to keep an eye on him. Specifically, a Gaspari man in the Acerbi gang had hired a private investigator that Yuan counted among his friends. There was absolutely no way that was a coincidence. And there was absolutely no way that it was unrelated to the flight through the alleys the night before, and the annoyingly-stinging red mark across his cheek.

“—and for the third time, Yuan, is there anything else you’d like me to cook besides the chicken?” Kratos’s voice asked, perhaps a touch irritably.

Yuan blinked. “Sorry, I was—”

“Thinking, yes, I gathered from the look on your face. I was quite certain that making rice didn’t require nearly as much concentration as you were giving it. So I ask again, now that I have your attention—is there anything besides the chicken?”

Yuan sighed, setting down the ladle and pushing his hair out of his face. “Cut up some green onions, I guess?”

For a long moment, all was silent except for the sizzling frying pan and the rhythm of the knife on the cutting board. “And what were you pondering so deeply?” Kratos asked at length.

Yuan sighed. “Give you one guess.”

“Martel’s shapely figure?” Alvin’s voice suggested from the doorway.

Yuan jumped, the ladle clattering to the counter as he instinctively reached for one of the knives. “God, Alvin! Warn a man before—”

“As I tried to tell you before,” Kratos said with a trace of a smirk. “Alvin is here.”

Yuan took a deep breath and put the knife back in the knife block. “Duly noted.”

“Seriously, Scorch—is this the railroad guy again, or is this something else?” Alvin asked, making a beeline for the icebox.

“Something else,” Yuan said, pouring the last of the stock into the rice and reaching for the green onions.

“Well, don’t keep me waiting,” the investigator prompted, arranging a trio of bottles and three limes along an unoccupied part of the counter and then reaching for glasses. “Is it related to my new job?”

“Yes, certainly. And I think I might have figured out why.”

“New job?” Kratos asked, leaning past Yuan to switch off the stove.

“New job,” Alvin confirmed. “Someone called Gilberto Gaspari hired me to keep an eye on Yuan for about a month.”

“So much for your client confidentiality agreement,” Yuan observed.

“Oh, did I say that name? Whoops, must have tipped a few too many earlier,” Alvin said with a wink as he mixed their drinks. “Glad you got more limes, it’s not a Prohibition Sour without the sour.”

“You raised such a fuss about them last time that we dared not go another day without them,” Kratos said with a remarkably straight face. “You’ll notice that I restocked the lemon syrup and soda water as well.”

“Hey, you’re not locked in to hot leaf juice all the time now, and no one will even arrest you for it. You’re welcome.”

“So what have you done that makes Mr. Gaspari so interested in you, Yuan?”

“Well, if he is who he says he is,” Yuan said as he started dishing out the risotto. “Then I’ve made myself quite unpopular with him and his brothers. I mentioned that I don’t keep in touch with my uncles, Kratos.”

“That you did, yes. So why are they suddenly interested in you? I doubt they wish to send you missed birthday cards.”

“Might have something to do with getting Arrigo Gaspari arrested last month.”

“Sounds like you’ve stirred up a hornet’s nest,” Kratos said, sliding a piece of chicken onto each of their plates.

“I had no way of knowing he was going to be there,” Yuan objected as he took his seat and his drink. “I’ll level with you, I was actually trying to get one of our associates arrested. Sandro Benenati was a menace and needed to be dealt with.”

“I find it difficult to believe that Mithos would encourage just arresting him,” Kratos pressed, giving Yuan a cool stare over the rim of his glass.

Yuan sighed. “Of course Mithos wanted him relocated to the bottom of the bay. But you know I don’t like doing that.”

“You weren’t afraid that he’d talk?”

“Not really,” Yuan said. “Benenati was a bit of an idiot, but not so much of an idiot that he couldn’t point a gun.”

“He was a mugger, right?” Alvin asked. “Common street thief?”

“No so common.” Yuan shook his head. “He had a nasty habit of targeting high-profile people. Lots to steal, but also got a lot of press for it. But the thing that I really wanted taken care of was the particular gun I last saw him use.”

“Oh?” Kratos asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Yeah. You think my gun is conspicuous? It at least looks like a Peacemaker from a distance. Benenati recently started using a goddamn shotgun. A very new shotgun.”

“The hell, you say?” Alvin asked, raising his eyebrows. “What, did he have a getaway driver too? Those aren’t the easiest thing to conceal, most street thugs prefer something smaller.”

“Getaway driver,” Yuan grumbled, stabbing his fork into a piece of chicken with slightly more enthusiasm than was necessary. “Mithos reckoned he had designs on starting an outfit of his own—which, of course, is the last thing this city needs. But I’d had it up to here with his disregard for collateral damage anyways, regardless of what Mithos said about it.”

“So you engineered an arrest for him? And got Arrigo Gaspari as well?”

“Exactly.”

“So what had you so specifically concerned about the shotgun, then?” Kratos asked. “I don’t follow.”

“Can you think of anyone, besides me, who keeps a shotgun on hand, Kratos?” Yuan asked.

“Can’t say that I do. And you don’t really use it.”

“And even mine is quite old, yes?”

“As far as I know, yes.”

“And just where does one get a shiny new shotgun?”

“I’m sure I don’t know,” Kratos said pointedly.

“I’m not sure I do either,” Yuan said. “But I’ve seen a couple of them around. Mostly in Acerbi hands.”

“You think he was a spy?” Alvin asked.

“I don’t know about spy, I think he was too stupid for that. Turncoat, perhaps.”

“And you’re still not worried about him talking?”

“No, not really. No matter who he’s working for, confessing anything would be bound to make someone mad. Might save him from execution, but to what end? If he sells out either of the hands he’s playing to the police, whoever remains of that gang will kill him.”

“That is an unusual amount of faith, coming from you,” Kratos said after a moment of slack-jawed staring.

“Well, that, and the fact that dead men tell no tales.”

“I don’t follow, Yuan, surely you don’t have contact with a hitman in prison?”

“Did I say hitman?”

“For God sake, Yuan,” Kratos said exasperatedly. “Speak plainly.”

Yuan sighed. “We need better dinnertime conversation.”

“I’ll stop eating until you finish,” Alvin said, leaning back in his chair.

“Last month, the police caught Sandro Benenati and Arrigo Gaspari trading liquor and opium on the edge of Little Italy,” Yuan said flatly. “Both arrested. Gaspari killed Benenati in prison after a week.”

Kratos pinched the bridge of his nose. “And if Benenati didn’t talk, then why did Gilberto Gaspari hire Alvin to trail you, specifically?”

“Because of one Mr. Dario Croce. Turncoat working with the Acerbi and the Undzer Shtik.”

“The Undzer Shtik?” Alvin repeated. “This isn’t just between Italian gangs anymore?”

“Doesn’t seem to be. Mithos said that Joey Zawinski was assassinated, with a ‘power vacuum and an arms race’ as a motive. According to Croce, he drank poisoned absinthe that was traced back to us.”

“Zawinski,” Alvin repeated. “Yeah, I’ve heard that name. Jewish crime boss whose gang mostly runs narcotics trades and arms-dealing schemes, but they pale in comparison to some of the Irish gangs on that front.”

“You think that the new weapons that the Acerbi gang is using go back to this Joey Zawinski?” Kratos asked, rubbing his temples.

“I think it’s distinctly possible,” Yuan said. “And I’d say that between that, and what happened to us last night, that they’ve decided to try their hand at my game—shift the blame, cause doubt, cover their tracks.” He picked up his fork once more. “There. Business talk over. Enjoy dinner.”

“Business talk not quite over, Scorch,” Alvin objected, absently gesturing with his glass. “You said you had an offer for me.”

“I should think that obvious,” Yuan said. “I want you to keep tabs on the Gaspari men and their associates for as long as you’re in their employ, and let me know what you find out.”

Alvin grinned. “Pay me in lunches at Liu’s, and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

#broadswordandpistol #20s AU #drabble #drabble: dinnertime conversation #this is a pitiful thank-you for hosting me for a week Ji #but it's the drabble you've waited so long for and I hope you enjoy it #and I hope that I did Alvin all right ^^;

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violetsystems · 4 years ago

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#personal

It is usually my favorite time of the year. Although, I do remember a Halloween years ago when I sat in a corner at a party on my phone alone scrolling through tumblr. My mom loves this time of year. Her birthday is Monday and we usually walk in the day of the dead parade in my neighborhood. Her costume this year is a gypsy witch which if anybody didn’t know by now is part of my heritage. My Croatian grandfather dropped out in the sixth grade after his mother died. He would tell me stories of the church refusing to bury her and how he had to take care of his siblings learning six languages in the process. He and his brother were in the army and Navy respectively. He married into a Bohemian German family where he had two daughters. My mother lives in the house she grew up in. I used to sit at the table on Sundays watching Shaw Brothers films while my grandfather taught me Serbian curse words. My favorite movie back then was Chinese Superninjas and my grandmother was always asleep in a chair listening to a Cubs game. Anytime anyone got decapitated I would look to my grandfather and he would be lost in an article about electronics. The basement was filled with wires and circuit boards. He was a licensed union electrician who fell into disability. Before that he was an army mechanic in the war. Magic and technology was what filled most of my adolescence. My father’s side of the family was all Swedish, a son of a poor Lutheran minister and also in the military. Back then, families were a little more nuclear. My mom’s cousin and my dad’s sister met around the same time my dad and my mom. Subsequently, I have twin cousins who are eerily double related. I also have a cousin on that side of the family who lives in Hong Kong as is adopted. I learned the hard way sitting at a dinner table at a school called Li Po Chun where she lived and taught. I spoke about music and art at that school to survivors of the Iraq war who openly hated Americans like myself. I remember my cousin telling me how important it was how I cut through that hate and fear talking about music with them. That night the oldest living relative was at the table. It was the first time I ever set foot in China let alone Hong Kong. Her daughter who was half Kenyan and her son who was half Chinese sat at that table along with her husband from Beijing. Louise sat at the head of the table attended by a live in nurse. She was in her nineties at that point. Her husband had passed but was a Swedish missionary who travelled the world helping people depending on your political views. I said out loud how it was good to meet someone who I was blood related to halfway across the world. She gave a hushed and sad smile. “Your dad never told you did he?” My cousin was adopted. Later after dinner I sat with her son and drew. It was his favorite activity to share. He taught me Chinese characters and I taught him the Korean characters I knew. We never talked about blood ever again.

Being an only child, these experiences of connection to family can be intense. There really isn’t much of a legacy for me back here in the states. My parents are divorced. My dad remarried into a family that is very different from what I am used to. His wife is nice but religious. Some of the family are police. My dad told me once her brother had fallen into a culture of online forums for gun rights. I spoke to my dad over the phone just the other day. We gently brushed politics over Pelosi and Mnuchin. My dad is an accountant. It’s easy to shift the conversation to something like stocks. But truthfully, I know he and his wife support things like the supreme court nomination. That frightens me in more ways than anyone can know. But those kind of politics have done nothing for me in this situation I have found myself in over the last four or five months. The only piece of government action that affects me favorably at all has been the CARES act. More specifically, the fact that the bulk of my pension is affected by the tax legislation. It literally saved my life. That expires at the end of the year and who knows when the next round of layoffs will happen. And yet politicians are sitting in offices they were bought into arguing concepts about when life begins. Which is funny because politicians don’t really care about life. They care about money, power and how to control the bulk of it. The tones of an election year are deafening over ideological talking points. I hear people like Ken Griffin talking about how he’d rather not pay fair taxes. I also hear Ken Griffin donates heavily to the campaigns of Ted Cruz and Marco Rubio. He has his prize Basquiat hanging in the Art Institute along with his history of supporting the Christian right. I never made the connection as to why abortion protesters were always allowed to protest outside of that school. They used to stand there for hours with signs in front of my building. Years later, there’s a chick fil a right next door. It seems odd until you realize the money is all connected, ideologically and otherwise. In America these days, freedom is only attached to religious expression and the money attached to it. A woman’s right to choose factors nowhere into this. However you feel about abortion or religion in general in America should fall down to a basic function. Is it government’s job to dictate what you do with your life on an ideological level? Or is it their job to use your tax dollars to maintain infrastructure? In an era where the Senate in America is only concerned about loading the courts with yes men and women, it’s pretty obvious. The stimulus to keep the economy going is nowhere in sight. People like Ken Griffin talk loudly about how the answer is getting people back to work and not incentivising people to hurt the GDP. Liam Gallagher and Johnny Marr are among a host of musicians who have hit back at London Chancellor’s Rishi Sunak’s suggestion that people should “adapt” their jobs during the ongoing coronavirus pandemic. They would much rather get you back in the machine in any number of startups their sons created. Ken Griffin got rich of his daddy’s connections in times like these. Just like the health care industry gets rich putting you at risk. I put my money in the markets too with no help or advice. For the record, I’m doing quite well these days in my portfolio without any handouts other than my pension.

All the while, I’m trying to apply for jobs in the most insensitive, impersonal and isolated time of my life. I’m alone in ways I cannot explain or even comprehend. And I’m stuck in the middle with people I love like ghosts on the net trying to find a voice. These people in power say they care. Say they have divine insight from God about how you should live your life. Have all the time in the world to type their feelings and beliefs on twitter but do absolutely nothing to help the country heal. And I sit in financial webinars with banks and investors who all say the same thing. The country needs help from the government to recover from these dangerous times. A time where health care is so important and so expensive. Who profits from all this death? The doctors and lawyers that move to Saipan and other tax havens to escape their fair share of the blame? The country is number one at dying these days from a disease that’s easily mitigated by keeping to yourself and wearing a mask. Sounds poetic. And yet everyone can’t keep their distance from me when I walk out the door to restock my fridge. They can’t help sabotaging every attempt to keep my mental state in tact when I face crippling social exclusion. I do still have friends. Mostly in the neighborhood. And yet there’s enemies too. It seems living in this town for years has only one advantage. Everyone thinks they know everything about me. They think I’m a Chinese spy. They think I’m a Satanist. They think I’m in league with a secret organization hell bent on destroying American freedom. And they act out on it every day in my public space without my consent because they think they know me. But they never ask my name. They never look me in the eye. They gossip and plot behind my back. And sooner or later, I just get bored and adapt. I apply for more jobs overseas. All the jobs in China. A few in New York. But New York is more of the same. Startups for daddy’s little business school graduate. A bunch of cock sure closet misogynists who have learned the slick talk corporate snake oil about freedom. These people care so much about your uterus they voted for a guy who literally said in the most vulgar terms to impregnate women forcefully. You think those people care about human life at any stage of conception? They care about votes. They care about people to brainwash. Cheap labor. I literally had to listen to a Bloomberg pundit talk about how a baby boom in the COVID era would be great for shareholders. Trillion dollar companies that pass the savings onto investors instead of the consumer. I hear nothing but people banging the war drum to increase the cost of things. Inflation is a good thing when the wealth disparity is so wildly out of balance. These times seem dark. Almost comedic. But when you shine the light for years from this lighthouse you know one thing. These people are nothing but husks on a balance sheet. They have no culture and no history other than burying and exiling the truth until it drowns in the river like a mob hit. And America is drowning in this cesspool day after day. I’m an only child. There’s a chance my legacy will die and never be retold. But then again, there are things out there more precious than blood. And the streets run red with it everyday without a care in the world. What price do you put on a life when you value none of it? Ask Ken Griffin. I’m sure he could buy your silence. Or maybe he has enough money to throw away to silence you for good. It’s the Chicago way after all. I should know. <3 Tim

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ladystylestores · 5 years ago

Text

TikTok and 53 other iOS apps still snoop your sensitive clipboard data

In March, researchers uncovered a troubling privacy grab by more than four dozen iOS apps including TikTok, the Chinese-owned social media and video-sharing phenomenon that has taken the Internet by storm. Despite TikTok vowing to curb the practice, it continues to access some of Apple users’ most sensitive data, which can include passwords, cryptocurrency wallet addresses, account-reset links, and personal messages. Another 53 apps identified in March haven’t stopped either.

The privacy invasion is the result of the apps repeatedly reading any text that happens to reside in clipboards, which computers and other devices use to store data that has been cut or copied from things like password managers and email programs. With no clear reason for doing so, researchers Talal Haj Bakry and Tommy Mysk found, the apps deliberately called an iOS programming interface that retrieves text from users’ clipboards.

Universal snooping

In many cases, the covert reading isn’t limited to data stored on the local device. In the event the iPhone or iPad uses the same Apple ID as other Apple devices and are within roughly 10 feet of each other, all of them share a universal clipboard, meaning contents can be copied from the app of one device and pasted into an app running on a separate device.

That leaves open the possibility that an app on an iPhone will read sensitive data on the clipboards of other connected devices. This could include bitcoin addresses, passwords, or email messages that are temporarily stored on the clipboard of a nearby Mac or iPad. Despite running on a separate device, the iOS apps can easily read the sensitive data stored on the other machines.

“It’s very, very dangerous,” Mysk said in an interview on Friday, referring to the apps’ indiscriminate reading of clipboard data. “These apps are reading clipboards, and there’s no reason to do this. An app that doest have a text field to enter text has no reason to read clipboard text.”

The video below demonstrates universal clipboard reading:

youtube

KlipboardSpy: How malicious apps on iPhone and iPad abuse the Universal Clipboard on your Mac.

Back in the news

While Haj Bakry and Mysk published their research in March, the invasive apps made headlines again this week with the developer beta release of iOS 14. A novel feature Apple added provides a banner warning every time an app reads clipboard contents. As large numbers of people began testing the beta release, they quickly came to appreciate just how many apps engage in the practice and just how often they do it.

This YouTube video, which has racked up more than 87,000 views since it was posted on Tuesday, shows a small sample of the apps triggering the new warning

youtube

iOS14 Catches Apps Spying on Your Clipboard

TikTok in the spotlight

Recent headlines have focused particular attention on TikTok, in large part because of its massive base of active users (reported to be 800 million, with an estimated 104 million iOS installs in the first half of 2018 alone, making it the most downloaded app for that period).

TikTok’s continued snooping has gotten extra scrutiny for other reasons. When called out in March, the video-sharing provider told UK publication The Telegraph it would end the practice in the coming weeks. Mysk said that the app never stopped the monitoring. What’s more, a Wednesday Twitter thread revealed that the clipboard reading occurred each time a user entered a punctuation mark or tapped the space bar while composing a comment. That means the clipboard reading can happen every second or so, a much more aggressive pace than documented in the March research, which found monitoring happened when the app was opened or reopened.

To reproduce: 1. Have something on your clipboard. Eg copy some text from Notes or a website 2. Open TikTok and start typing in any text field 3. You learn from iOS 14 beta each time an app “pastes” – but in this instance I didn’t request it, and none of that text appears in UI

— Jeremy Burge (@jeremyburge) June 24, 2020

In a statement, TikTok representatives wrote:

Following the beta release of iOS14 on June 22, users saw notifications while using a number of popular apps. For TikTok, this was triggered by a feature designed to identify repetitive, spammy behavior. We have already submitted an updated version of the app to the App Store removing the anti-spam feature to eliminate any potential confusion.

TikTok is committed to protecting users’ privacy and being transparent about how our app works. We look forward to welcoming outside experts to our Transparency Center later this year.

On background, a spokesperson said that TikTok for Android never implemented the anti-spam feature.

I sent follow-up questions asking (1) if the TikTok version for Android monitored clipboards for any other reason, (2) if any clipboard text was uploaded from the device, and (3) why TikTok didn’t remove the monitoring as promised in March. The spokesperson has yet to respond. This post will be updated if a reply comes later.

Not just TikTok

In all, the researchers found the following iOS apps were reading users’ clipboard data every time the app was opened with no clear reason for doing so:

News

ABC News — com.abcnews.ABCNews

Al Jazeera English — ajenglishiphone

CBC News — ca.cbc.CBCNews

CBS News — com.H443NM7F8H.CBSNews

CNBC — com.nbcuni.cnbc.cnbcrtipad

Fox News — com.foxnews.foxnews

News Break — com.particlenews.newsbreak

New York Times — com.nytimes.NYTimes

NPR — org.npr.nprnews

ntv Nachrichten — de.n-tv.n-tvmobil

Reuters — com.thomsonreuters.Reuters

Russia Today — com.rt.RTNewsEnglish

Stern Nachrichten — de.grunerundjahr.sternneu

The Economist — com.economist.lamarr

The Huffington Post — com.huffingtonpost.HuffingtonPost

The Wall Street Journal — com.dowjones.WSJ.ipad

Vice News — com.vice.news.VICE-News

Games

8 Ball Pool

— com.miniclip.8ballpoolmult

AMAZE!!! — com.amaze.game

Bejeweled — com.ea.ios.bejeweledskies

Block Puzzle —Game.BlockPuzzle

Classic Bejeweled — com.popcap.ios.Bej3

Classic Bejeweled HD —com.popcap.ios.Bej3HD

FlipTheGun — com.playgendary.flipgun

Fruit Ninja — com.halfbrick.FruitNinjaLite

Golfmasters — com.playgendary.sportmasterstwo

Letter Soup — com.candywriter.apollo7

Love Nikki — com.elex.nikki

My Emma — com.crazylabs.myemma

Plants vs. Zombies

Heroes — com.ea.ios.pvzheroes

Pooking – Billiards City — com.pool.club.billiards.city

PUBG Mobile — com.tencent.ig

Tomb of the Mask — com.happymagenta.fromcore

Tomb of the Mask: Color — com.happymagenta.totm2

Total Party Kill — com.adventureislands.totalpartykill

Watermarbling — com.hydro.dipping

Social Networking

TikTok — com.zhiliaoapp.musically

ToTalk — totalk.gofeiyu.com

Tok — com.SimpleDate.Tok

Truecaller — com.truesoftware.TrueCallerOther

Viber — com.viber

Weibo — com.sina.weibo

Zoosk — com.zoosk.Zoosk

Other

10% Happier: Meditation —com.changecollective.tenpercenthappier

5-0 Radio Police Scanner — com.smartestapple.50radiofree

Accuweather — com.yourcompany.TestWithCustomTabs

AliExpress Shopping App — com.alibaba.iAliexpress

Bed Bath & Beyond — com.digby.bedbathbeyond

Dazn — com.dazn.theApp

Hotels.com — com.hotels.HotelsNearMe

Hotel Tonight — com.hoteltonight.prod

Overstock — com.overstock.app

Pigment – Adult Coloring Book — com.pixite.pigment

Recolor Coloring Book to Color — com.sumoing.ReColor

Sky Ticket — de.sky.skyonline

The Weather Network — com.theweathernetwork.weathereyeiphone

Shortly after the report was published, 10% Happier: Meditation and Hotel Tonight promised to stop the behavior and quickly followed through. TikTik also promised to stop but has never done so, Mysk said. None of the other apps has stopped either, he said.

Clipboard reading done right

In some cases, clipboard reading can make apps much more useful. The UPS iPhone app, for instance, pulls text from the clipboard and in the event the text matches the characteristics of a tracking number, the app prompts the user to track the corresponding package. Google Chrome also pulls text and, in the event it’s a URL, will prompt the user to browse to it. The Pixelmator photo editor reads data only if it’s an image. If it is, Pixelmator will prompt the user to open it for editing. In all three cases, the data reading has a clear use case and is transparent.

TikTok and the other offending apps, by contrast, access the clipboard for no clear reason and with no indication they are doing so. For many apps, it’s hard to see any legitimate performance or usability reason for the access. Mysk said that Apple plans to credit his and Haj Bakry’s research as a catalyst for the new clipboard notification put into iOS 14.

The clipboard reading Haj Bakry and Mysk reported raises concerns that likely extend to those using Android and possibly other operating systems. Mysk said that clipboard reading in Android apps is “even worse” than iOS because the OS APIs are so much more lenient. Until version 10, for instance, Android allowed apps running in the background to read the clipboard. iOS apps, by contrast, can read or query clipboards only when active (that is, running in the foreground).

Mysk said that Apple’s notification feature is a good start but, ultimately, Apple and Google should do more. One possibility is to make clipboard access a standard permission, just as access to a mic or camera is now. Another possibility is to require app developers to disclose precisely what clipboard data is accessed and what the app does with it.

For now, users should remain aware that any data stored in the clipboard—despite it being inconspicuous to the naked eye—can be regularly accessed by apps that in many cases aren’t even installed locally on the device. When in doubt, flush the clipboard data by copying a character, word, or other piece of innocuous data.

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mottlemoth · 8 years ago

Text

“Please, don’t leave. I beg you, please...”

Fiction Challenge #150: Thank you, @agent-elaine. <3

He and Myc were off when the e-mail arrived.

Toronto Police Service are looking for senior UK detectives interested in starting a new life in Ontario, Canada. Toronto police are the country's highest-paid officers - wages have increased 11 per cent over the last six years…

Six years.

Six years of Mycroft, too.

They'd always been more on than off. This recent spell looked like it was going to last, though. Greg had thought it would fix itself after a month or so. One lonely night, and there'd be a text or a call - then one perfect night to follow, and in a blaze of glory they'd be back together again, addicted to each other, moving in within a week, fucking every spare second, tangled up in Greg's bedsheets from six PM on Friday until eight AM on Monday - talking, laughing, kissing until his jaw hurt. Greg knew the pattern. They'd been through all this before.

"It's fine," he'd told Sherlock, when the latest off had been announced. "He just needs space for a while. You know what he's like."

But then a month had gone by, and then another - and the weeks had pulled themselves together like beads on a string.

It had been half a year now.

Greg was sick of London - sick of the noise, sick of the people. This city was bleaching his soul. Mycroft was the only thing who'd ever saturated him again. Every time they were on, he flooded Greg's life with colour and passion - taking off for the weekend to Prague and never seeing a thing outside the hotel room, candle-lit dinners in every restaurant in London, screaming fights at two AM in the rain. Mycroft got under his skin. He made everything feel real. When they were on, Greg could whirl through every single human emotion in the span of a single evening, and end it feeling like he'd never fucking loved and fucking hated one person so much in his life.

Then when they were off - like now - it felt like someone had capped his soul. Forty percent, maybe.

And the world was grey, and it was quiet.

He read the e-mail about Toronto, tired at his desk on another rainy Monday - tired, he thought, and it wasn't even ten. He gazed at the pictures of happy previous recruits, their big houses, their beaming families, the glorious new lives they'd stepped into, just like that.

He told himself he was replying just for more details - just to see, in case anyone in his division asked.

It was mainly the money, in the end. He couldn't fucking turn that figure down.

And what the hell was there here anymore? His parents were gone; his brother was up in Glasgow. Even Sherlock and John were talking about heading to the Sussex Downs in the next few years. John was tired of London too - tired of what it did to Sherlock.

One morning, walking down Whitehall with a coffee and a frown, Greg glimpsed a familiar figure on the street.

Mycroft was standing by the open door of his gleaming black car - and he was talking to a guy. A grinning, pink-cheeked, dark-eyed guy, in a leather jacket like Greg used to wear, and they were laughing about something together.

"Well… thanks for the lift," Greg heard the guy say as he passed, keeping his head down, his expression set.

"Not at all," Mycroft replied, coolly. "Until next time."

Greg rang Toronto Police Service that afternoon. They could send him expenses now, to help him get ready to relocate. And did he need the paperwork to bring a family? They could help him with the immigration process from start to finish, if he needed.

No, Greg told the friendly voice on the line.

It was just him.

"How are you going to tell Mycroft?" John asked, a few weeks later. They'd run into each other in the bread aisle of Sainsburys. He was now looking at Greg like he'd just announced the death of a close friend.

"I… didn't know I had to," Greg said, frowning. He put a bag of oven-bottom muffins in his basket. "S'nothing to do with him."

John despaired for a moment. "Greg, you two have history. A lot of history. If he finds out you've just up and emigrated to Canada…"

"What's he gonna do?" Greg snorted. "Have me extradited?"

"He'll be hurt, Greg… honestly, he'll be very hurt."

"Will he? We broke up, remember? For good this time. Now he's…" Seeing someone else. Greg couldn't say it. "... moved on. And I'm moving on, too. It's not a big deal."

"You're moving to Canada. How is that not a 'big deal'?"

Greg thought to say, briefly, that he could move to the fucking moon and he'd still miss Mycroft Holmes. Right now, Mycroft's opulent Belgravia flat - with its king-size bed, swathed in silk sheets - was a single taxi ride away. It didn't matter. It might as well be in Outer Mongolia, for all the space that stood between them.

"It's over, John," he said, his throat thick. He tossed a packet of tortillas into his basket. "It's done, now."

"You... should at least call him. He'll want to hear it from you."

"Yeah?" said Greg. "Then tell him to unblock my phone."

Greg should have known it was a trap.

"Come round for a takeaway," John had said. "We won't get the chance to do this for much longer… the Hong Kong Kitchen won't deliver to Canada."

Greg arrived at Baker Street to find no evidence of Chinese food, Sherlock and John putting their coats on to go out, and an annoyed Mycroft Holmes standing in the lounge.

"Tell him," John muttered to Greg, as he shepherded Sherlock onto the stairs.

The door shut after them far below.

"Tell me... what?" Mycroft asked, cold.

It was the first time they'd been in one room together since the break-up.

"I'm... moving," Greg said. His heart was attempting to kick its way out of his throat. "End of March. John thought you should know because of - … well, history… I tried to tell him you wouldn't care, but I guess he thinks he knows better."

Mycroft's eyes narrowed across the lounge at him.

"Moving to where, might I ask?"

The e-mail Greg received the next morning went on at some length. It ended with Mycroft's firm assurances that he didn't care if Greg moved to the outer reaches of the cosmos - and, furthermore, "that guy" (as Greg had so termed him) was none of Greg's business - and, if Greg had thought Mycroft would somehow be upset by his emigration to Canada, he was very much mistaken.

Greg tried to send a reply, which bounced back.

He texted John, told him he was honestly a bit of an interfering prick sometimes, and continued packing up his flat.

Greg spent the week before the move living out of a suitcase. Everything else had been sent ahead - it would be waiting for him in his new home.

A lot of people asked if he had plans for his final night - with a hopeful hint of drinks, or a meal maybe, or a party - some kind of goodbye - but Greg told them all he was busy.

Instead, he sat in his empty flat with the door unlocked, everything packed around him for the morning. He ate a microwave lasagne straight from the container, washed it up and took the packaging out to the bin. He checked his passport; he checked his flight details for tomorrow. He smoked at the window, watching the empty street.

By ten, he started to worry it wouldn't happen.

One last chance, he'd thought. One last unlocked door. Just in case.

By midnight, the matter was settled.

Greg took a black bag full of memories out to the bin. They were the last things to go - train tickets; letters saying he hated him, letters saying he loved him; the receipts for expensive gifts he hadn't really been able to afford; scraps of the birthday paper he'd found with umbrellas on it. Valentine's cards. I'm sorry, one said inside, the green ink blotched and the handwriting shaky. I'm sorry I am broken. We'll make it work this time, I swear. Just never leave me again. Yours - always yours. Your sea-urchin. Your Spiky Myc. A hundred green ink kisses. Greg counted them. He'd counted them all, and they were there.

He crushed them down into the bin with his heel, along with all the rest.

He drank the half-bottle of red wine he'd put by the bed just in case. He drank it like if he just got it down fast enough, it would burn it all out - all of it - every fight, every kiss, every fucking miracle, every stupid mistake. The first time, some warehouse in Hackney Myc had kidnapped him to, offering him money to spy on Sherlock. The last time - sleepy Sunday morning in their bed, biting Myc's neck gently like he knew that he liked, fingernails digging into his back. His forty-fifth birthday in New York. Mycroft had kissed him on the top of the Rockefeller Center like they'd never hurt each other before, like they never would again.

"Don't ever leave me," he'd breathed in Greg's ear, as the whole city glittered below them and all the stars glittered above. "Forever, this time. We'll make it this time."

They'd broken up two weeks later. He'd caught Mycroft reading his texts.

Greg slept until eight on the morning of his flight. He got up, had an Alka Seltzer, dropped the keys of his flat off at the estate agent, and caught his taxi to the airport just after nine, his suitcase thumping quietly in the boot. He watched London go by as they drove, grey and empty.

There was nothing left for him now, he thought.

He was making the right decision.

He checked in at Heathrow, went through baggage control and security, and found the right gate. He bought a pasta salad to have with him on the plane. He found somewhere to sit, and checked his phone one final time - no new messages.

As he stared at the screen, he realised he couldn't remember their last kiss.

They hadn't known, he thought - hadn't had a clue. Last kisses had never been last kisses until now. Every single one had come before another first kiss.

Somewhere, lost in the rush of his memory, was his final, final kiss with Mycroft Holmes.

He hoped it had been good.

One of those kisses where he took Mycroft's face in his hands, and told those perfect grey eyes they were gorgeous - told him it was okay he was a Spiky Myc sometimes, and that Greg didn't care - loved him anyway - then kissed him like he meant it. Kissed him like there would never be any joy in the world, if there wasn't Mycroft there to share it with him.

He hoped Mycroft remembered their last ever kiss, even if he couldn't.

At a minute to twelve, the gate was opened.

And a cry rang out through the terminal.

"GREG…!!"

And there he was.

He hadn't shaved - he hadn't slept. He ran the length of the terminal like there were dogs at his heels, his coat flying behind him, and people fled from his path in alarm. Mycroft didn't see them. He only saw Greg - saw him through his burning, desperate tears.

Greg found himself on his feet.

He was running before he knew he'd even moved.

"Please, don't leave," Mycroft wept in his ear, as they sat in a broken pile on the floor of Terminal Five. Security were rushing this way. Greg could see them advancing in his peripheral vision. He didn't care. He clung to Mycroft. He cried into his stupid hair. Mycroft clung to him too, shaking so hard he could hardly speak. "I beg you, please..."

Greg buried his hands under Mycroft's coat, gripping him tightly as the whole world exploded in colour.

"I won't," he promised. "I won't, I won't. I won't ever go..."

"Take me with you," Mycroft pleaded. The first security officer had reached them. Mycroft dug his fingers into Greg's shoulder blades. "Damn it… take me too."

It took two hours, three checks of his ID and several furious phone calls before Heathrow Security were prepared to believe who Mycroft was. He threatened to have the lot of them deported if they laid so much as a latex-gloved finger on Greg, the entirety of whose possessions were now swiftly on their way to Canada.

"You don't need your things," Mycroft said, as they finally got into a car. He pushed Greg back against the leather seat, climbed onto his lap and kissed him with a desperation that took Greg's breath away, burying his hands in Greg's hair so hard it hurt. "Move in with me," he gasped against Greg's mouth, between kisses. "Until the paperwork is done... and then we'll go. We'll start afresh. It will all be different this time. I promise."

Greg took him by the face, staring up into his eyes.

"Don't," he breathed. "Don't tell me it'll be different."

Mycroft swallowed, searching his face. "Wh-what?"

"I don't want it different," Greg said, fiercely. "I want it just the same. No matter what it is."

It was this or nothing, he realised.

This or nothing.

"Hurt me," he begged, as Mycroft's eyes blazed at him, full of tears. The world was full of colour; everything was okay. "Ruin me. Break me into pieces. Spend the rest of your life telling me I'm a prick and you hate the fucking sight of me. Just don't ever let me go."

I hope that was worth the wait, @agent-elaine. Thank you for your gorgeous prompt... I couldn’t resist, and I wanted to do it justice.

I no longer even have the nerve to call this the ‘Short Fiction’ challenge.

Thanks to everyone else who has sent me prompts. <3 I’ll be working through them as I can.

#mystrade #mystrade fiction

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khanlusa · 7 years ago

Text

“Civilian”

After the dust settles at Arcjet, Karen is keeping nightwatch at the police station when Rhys comes back from a small perimeter patrol…

“So you decided to stay, huh? I expected you to take your payment and run.”

Karen looked up from checking her rifle to see Rhys walking in from the outside, dusting off his suit without even bothering to look at her. She dipped her head to glower at his tone.

“Spit it out, civvie,” she said, firmly setting her rifle down on the small table she was settled at.

He straightened, glaring at her. “Civvie? Who the fuck do you think you are? You’re not even military, you’re just some loner who happened to show up at the right time!”

Her stomach boiled but she remained where she was, keeping her hands on the table and linking them in front of her. “If you really are military then you know as well as I do that it doesn’t just leave you. It gets branded on your bones, it’s in your blood. De Oppressor Liber, to liberate the oppressed.”

A sneer curled his lips. “What?” he spat, turning to face her fully. “You read that in some old book? Didn’t take you for being literate, but if you think that’s all you need to fake being a soldier you’re dumber than I thought.”

“I’ve been frozen this entire time, civvie. I just came out of a Vault and learned it’s been two-hundred years since the bombs fell. I saw the ones that hit Boston, just in time to go below ground.”

“Nice story, try harder.”

“Do you think this thing on my arm is for decoration, pìyǎn?”

“What did you just—?”

She stood, hands flat on the table. “It’s Mandarin Chinese for someone who thinks they know someone at a glance and treats them like a spy. Maybe you do, when they’re from this sorry excuse for a state. But it isn’t called a state anymore is it? You all call it the ‘Commonwealth.’” She scoffed. “Some progress you’ve all made. It’s barely any different to a war-zone.”

He spat on the floor between them. “If you can’t handle it then get the hell out of here. We don’t need a shifty coward at our backs.”

She was across the room in seconds, the table and her rifle shoved out of the way in a clatter of wood and metal. She grabbed him by the front of his suit and shoved him into the wall with her arm under his chin. He brought his knee up but she heaved and threw him to the floor before it connected.

Through clenched teeth she snarled down at him, “don’t you fucking dare call me a coward! I served this fucking country until it wrung me dry! And you’re strutting around like you’re the real fucking soldiers! Calling yourselves ‘Knights’ and ‘Paladins’ like you’re living in a fucking fantasy! Fuck you!”

“Quiet down!”

Karen’s head whipped around to see Danse walking in through a side door, in from where he and Haylen were sleeping through night shift. He was frowning deeply and looked at them both. “Explain yourselves, right now.”

Rhys quickly got to his feet, chin raised. “Sir, she launched an unprovoked attack on me, she’s unstable and untrustworthy. We can’t let her stay here.”

Danse looked at her, his eyes unreadable. “Unprovoked?”

Rage still pressed her to bloody Rhys’s nose and she clenched her hands tight, trying to exhale her anger. “His conduct was unprofessional,” she said with a ragged inhale, “the mark of a poor soldier.”

Disapproval flashed across Danse’s face and Rhys spat at her, “mercenary.”

He fixed Rhys with a glare, “enough!”

Karen turned away and picked her rifle up by its sling, letting it hang so as to pose no threat. “Sorry for the disturbance, sir,” she muttered, pushing the door open, “I won’t stick around to do it again.” She stepped outside and let the door shut behind her, exhaling into the chilly night air.

If that was the best this broken country could offer her, she might well be better on her own. Paladins, fucking Paladins…

She huffed and started walking, only to hear the door open behind her. She expected to hear Rhys calling after her to get another last minute insult in but instead it was Danse. “You’re not done here, soldier.”

Karen stopped and closed her eyes, sighing deeply. She willed herself to keep walking, just walk and find her own way. But she turned on her heel and faced him instead, opening her eyes to see him standing at the top of the stairs to the police station. “Well, at least you think I’m a soldier.”

“You carry yourself like one. I heard you yelling—he called you a coward?”

“I know, I shouldn’t have let it get to me. I’m sorry.”

“Coward isn’t a word to throw around lightly, especially after you charged in to help us just the other day and performed flawlessly at Arcjet. Rhys should have known better and for that I’m sorry.”

She swallowed, unsure how to respond. Danse gestured to the door. “We could still use someone with your experience. I believe your story. Vault-Tec was just the kind of shady corporation who would do something like that and you fight like no one I’ve ever met. We may not be exactly what you knew, but our Order was born from the vices of the old world to do better in the new one. Take some time to think and I believe you’ll come to realize you’re better off with us than not.”

He let the words hang for a moment and she gave him a small nod, letting him return to the station.

With a deep and tired sigh, Karen walked back up the stairs and sat against the station wall. She’d give herself until morning to decide.

#fallout #fo4 #sole survivor #Karen Stroud

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