#so authority figures he knows for a Fact are up to shady shit and using him for their own ends?

[duckapus]

Think it would be funny if Olympus and Spreadsheet have known the whole time that Fairly Oddparents characters can bypass the Grid's security network if they have access to magic, specifically because Timmy likes going on adventures and doesn't obey rules that don't make sense to him (especially if they're coming from authority figures that he knows don't have his best interests in mind (he knows full well what the Grid is like and it's not like he signed up to be an Anchor or gets paid for it so as far as he's concerned he doesn't work for them)) so he's been coming and going as he pleases this whole time and the two of them never bothered to tell anyone on the grounds that he's honestly kind of got a point and it's not like anyone can actually stop him anyway.

There is much frustration from everyone else, but surprisingly especially Quazar because she could've been sneaking out this whole time!?

Anyway, between that reveal and the fact that the Crew (and thus the Avatars and Admins) now know about them Director K basically has to lift the unspoken Travel Ban on the MRU universes. Just as well, he was already planning to reveal them pretty soon anyway so this means a little less work for him. He is a bit disappointed that he won't get to use his "Avatars vs Anchors" WotFI idea (or at least not with the fanfare it deserved) but he'll get over it.

[savvyreyes4587]

Never give me your back

(Pm!Dazai x Gifted!FemReader)

Nakahara Chuuya x Gifted!femReader (but not really?)

Summary: To say it was your plan to be at Yokohama's most famous hotel and in its casino\club wouldn't be true but what wasn't really in your plans was meeting a certain redhead and the baggage that came with him.

Author's Note: So here is the prologue and let's see how it works from here, also slightly edited so ignore any mistakes if you find one, also Dazai, Reader and Chuuya are 16 here.

Info: Wc(2k-ish) Violence, drinking, gun and bullets, I suppose.

Go to Life Waster Series

Dazai Osamu prided himself by how intelligent he was and how he managed to look beyond and see what others couldn't and that was exactly what had him frustrated in this very moment… What was it that he was missing?

The slug had told him that the sheep were looking for a certain someone, someone that Chuuya implied was like him in some aspects but to no avail, not the sheep, not the government… no one was able to find that person.

No matter how many paths Dazai followed, they all led to dead ends and now, he was faced with the choice of finding that person no matter the cost or it would be his end, at least in his eyes.

"Sir?" Someone calls for Dazai and he had half the mind to shoot whoever it was that broke his chain of thoughts but then his eyes drifted to the security cams on his desk, showing a live stream of the HQs casino slash nightclub and Dazai's eyes doubled in size when he saw…

He only thought to himself at that moment as his hand tightened around the gun in his hand… There is no way the slug figured it out before me.

Earlier that night

You regretted the decision you made the second you made it, why did you listen to Keisuke? That man didn't know shit about you yet he did but perhaps you should have stayed home instead of accompanying him to the meeting he had.

The Shady meeting he had if you might add because nothing about this meeting was normal in any shape or form and your gut feeling has been giving you signs since he told you about it but the nature of humans being the way it was… you ignored it.

Now, your ignorance had you sitting at the bar in one of the most expensive hotels in Yokohama, drinking scotch and questioning your existence… not a good combination by the way.

The other thing that had your stomach twisting with nerves was the fact that if anyone here caught wind of who you were… it would be over for you and whoever decided to tell on you.

You took in a shaky breath, hand barely able to hold the glass that contained your drink and you figured that the only way to calm yourself was probably to get somewhat drunk and loosen your nerves.

Without a second thought, you downed your drink, fighting against the burn that settled in your throat and the slight sting in your eyes and you had to close your eyes momentarily to steady yourself which also served as a reminder to why you didn't usually drink.

Everything suddenly felt heightend for you, the music was overwhelming, the speakers blasting, the movements of people around you and it made you feel like wanting to crawl out of your own skin, a sensory overload.

You needed to disconnect from all this, you had to but you also knew that the way your hand began clawing and scratching at your arm was no good sign… you had to stop… scratch harder… no, stop… draw blood…

The hand you used to claw at your arm was beginning to dig deeper, to draw blood but that's not what you wanted so why didn't it stop… Why wouldn't it stop?

Stop it! You are my greatest creation and I won't have your anxiety ruin it.

Shut up. Shut up. Shut the fuck up.

Go away. You're not here anymore.

I'm not yours anymore, I'm not-

You just realised that your hand was stuck, no longer sedating the unexplainable itchiness and you looked down to figure out what had it stuck but the moment you did you saw it.

It wasn't a what, it was a who. There was a gloved hand holding yours, keeping it away from your now red and angry arm and your brain didn't even comprehend the whole thing until the person who held your hand talked.

"Take it easy, Doll. Deep breaths." His voice was so… calm and relaxed and it somehow drowned the other sounds around you, making that dark cloud of thoughts disappear.

Your raised your head, your eyes meeting those cobalt blue ones that stared into your soul and you wondered if he could recognise how fucked up you were with the look he was giving you.

But something was still off about you and you couldn't for the life of you figure out what it was.

"Sorry to break it to ya but you kind of need to breathe, Doll." The redhead spoke again and you now understood what was wrong with you… you might have left the state you were in but your body was still in defence mode, where even breathing was barley allowed.

Slowly but surely you took one breath, then another and it almost felt like your lungs wanted to cry in relief at the feeling of air entering them again.

The embarrassment of the entire situation kicked in your brain as the gears started turning again and you felt your cheeks heat up in an instant.

"I-I'm so sorry, I don't know what happened, I-" You stuttered and stumbled over your words, adding insult to injury to this already embarrassing moment.

But when the redhead simply gave you an understanding smile and took a seat beside you, the embarrassment subdued at the thought that he didn't find what happened with you alarming.

He talked in that voice of his again. "No need to apologise or explain, Doll. I would get overwhelmed in a place like this, especially if it wasn't usually my scene."

He then tapped the bar and told the bartender to refill your scotch and ordered a new one for himself before he turned to you again.

A gloved hand was extended to you. "Chuuya Nakahara."

You pondered for a moment whether you should tell him your name or not but figured that it would be no harm to do so… like come on, what were the chances you meet again, right?

Shaking his hand, you told him your name before taking your glass of scotch and taking a huge gulp from it.

Chuuya downed the entire glass and it didn't look like he had the slightest issue with the burning sensation it left behind.

He tapped his glass for a refill before he turned to you, his blue eyes piercing through you. "So what brings you here, Doll? It's obviously not your scene."

Your fingers drummed against your glass, a habit you should have gotten rid of a long time ago but answered nonetheless and if you somehow screwed up anything, the alcohol was taking the blame.

"A friend of mine has a meeting here and thought it would be a good idea for me to come here too." You found your gaze wandering all over the man, from his face to his suit to that weird looking hat he had on.

Who was Chuuya Nakahara?

Chuuya said before he downed another glass. "Well, I'm glad he did, Doll. Otherwise, how else would I have been able to meet you?"

"But I'm also curious, what kind of friend leaves their friend alone in a place like this? I mean he must understand that some people wouldn't miss an opportunity to take advantage of you and hurt you." He questioned.

And that actually had you laughing, like straight up laughing out loud because he didn't just say that but he was excused, he wasn't aware of who you were, he didn't know that no one would be able to hurt you with what you had.

"Sorry, that was rude but trust me, Chuuya… no one can hurt me." You told him and you could almost swear you saw his eyes shine with a new light, as if he won the grand prize but as soon as you saw it, it disappeared.

He sighed. "Perhaps but sometimes we are the ones who hurt ourselves and you definitely seem the kind to do that."

Your body movement stopped all together and your blood ran cold in your veins while your skin paled. "I'm not--"

"Oh yes, you are. I know a haunted look when I see one and what happened with you a few minutes ago, it wasn't just about being overwhelmed… it was a triggered reaction but what exactly triggered you, Doll?" Chuuya asked and you felt your body kick into flight mode as you immediately jumped to your feet and went to walk away from the redheaded man.

But his hand caught your wrist and pulled you back to your seat and he looked you in the eye while his grip tightened on your wrist.

And he made the biggest mistake of his life when he asked again and said what he shouldn't have said. "What are you afraid of, Time Weaver?"

Your eyes burned blue and so did your body, you let the monster out as you stared him dead in the eye. "Certainly not you."

Blue ropes shot out of your body and slammed him to the nearest wall when you heard Keisuke call out for you. "Run! They want you!"

From the corner of your eye, you saw Chuuya get up and recover from the impact of the slam you gave him but you didn't comprehend that soldiers entered the club, with people screaming and running, it was hard to keep track.

Bullets rang in the air and you closed your eyes, knowing there was no way out of this, you just had to get Keisuke out and away from here then the rest could be solved or at least you hoped it would be.

Then everything went quiet and your eyes fluttered open and you took in how everything barely moved, the bullets directed at you were stuck mid air and Keisuke was stopped mid run to you.

You walked with slow and steady steps to him and shot out your ropes again, grabbing his body and walking up to the elevator, you put him inside and clicked on the G level before going back to the club.

A slight humming was what you let out while using your ropes, moving everyone and everything to suit your own purpose and a smile graced your lips as you saw the final image of the scenario you created before you went to stand behind chuuya.

With confidence you snapped your fingers and the world went back to its normal speed and you watched in amusement as the guards that were shooting at you were now in front of the bullets meant for you and how they fell to the ground as they got shot by them.

Chuuya was watching the scene with angry eyes and he looked left and right for you but didn't think about checking behind his back.

You had one rope out and almost… almost wrapped it around his throat from behind when you felt the cold bite of a barrel on the back of your head…

"I wouldn’t do that if I were you. He tends to lose his mind when he's angry." A nonchalant voice spoke behind, digging the gun deeper into your skull as Chuuya turned around.

His eyes widened when he saw you behind him but simply gave him a smile and was going to slow down time again when you sensed a hand holding the nape of your neck and suddenly you couldn't feel your ability… what the…

You turned around to look at the man who did something to you and stared into one uncovered eye as he smiled mischievously at you.

"Welcome to the port mafia, Time Weaver." Was the last thing you heard before someone knocked you out and everything went dark.

[manikas-whims]

okay your Green Arrow X Kanej AU is amazing. I absolutely love the idea of Inej being the hooded vigilante and Kaz as her hacker partner

but if not fic, can you at least write some headcanons, I'm dying!!! Arrow was my shit back in 2014!

Okay! So here we go..

since I'm writing proper headcanons, I'll change Inej's vigilante name from Green Arrow to "Wraith" and make other plot changes as i feel like..:)

Tagging @kanejweek

under Day 4: Corrupted Ambition

Inspired by this moodboard

Kanej Vigilante AU Headcanons

Part 1 | Next»>

• It all started when 19 yo Inej Ghafa was out on a cruise with her parents after a big success in the business workings of the Ghafa Industries

• On around the 3rd day of cruise, due to a heavy storm, a shipwreck occurs

• Inej gets separated in the chaos and wakes up one morning to find herself ashore an unknown island.

• For days she wanders, having lived a life of luxury and love under the care of her parents, she believes she won't survive long.

Then several days later, when she's on the brink of passing out, a strange man finds her. He takes her to his hideout and offers her potable water (unlike the sea water on the shores) and also some fruits from the island.

At first she's cautious and keeps her distance but slowly comes to trust this man.

• The man trains her in survival skills and to her surprise, even teaches her some combat skills. She doesn't know which one cause she's unfamiliar with martial arts.

Finally the man teaches her using his makeshift weapons. And she finds she really enjoys using knives 🔪 and bow & arrows 🏹

﹏ time skip: 5 years later ﹏

• Inej is praying before the grave of the strange man who is now dead (due to mysterious reasons).

• She sees an airplane passing over the island. She burns a big stack of dead leaves & animal dung.

The plane spots the fire and then helps her get back. Someone on the plane recognizes her as the young heiress to the Ghafa Industries.

• Turns out she is the only one who was lucky enough to survive. There were no bodies discovered of her parents after the shipwreck.

• She is sent back to her home to live with her immediate aunt (from her father's side) and it takes her a few weeks to adjust.

• Meanwhile the news about her return is all over media. But her aunt protects her from any interviews.

• A Return Party is held for her where she reunites with her college bestfriend Nina Zenik.

• There's lots of hugs and crying and catching up to do. Nina has become well-known Fashion Designer.

• Ghafa Industries is currently being run by her father's former business partner Per Haskell.

Haskell doesn't hand over any authority to her as he believes a girl who'd been assumed dead for 5 years, isn't in the right state of mind to run a company.

But Inej doesn't trust Haskell at all. In fact, the more she encounters him, the more she begins to think the whole shipwreck was a planned thing to eradicate her family and gain ownership of Ghafa Industries.

• She decides to snoop around a bit into her parents' mansion and also at Haskell's home. And with the skills she's acquired under training from that man from the island, its pretty easy for her to scale walls and disappear like a ghost.

• She finds an old diary with her father's initials on it and takes it back home.

• The entire diary is full of a long list of names of people from other famous corporations. And she has no idea what this means.

• So left at a dead end and kinda bummed, she has no idea where to look or what should be her next step.

Thats when Nina Zenik pops up!

• Nina drops by at night and after some drinks and a batch of waffles, Inej ends up telling her (only vaguely) that she needs help figuring out some information because she doesn't trust Haskell.

• Nina nods and begins ranting about how shady Haskell seems.

Then Nina looks around as if to check no one is listening, and whispers, "You should totally see Dirtyhands."

"Who's Dirtyhands?" Inej is confused.

"He's a well-known hacker, a thief of secrets! I took his help a year ago to spy on my ex. That's how I discovered she was cheating!"

Inej rolls her eyes. "Are you sure this guy can actually help me?"

"There's no harm trying." Nina shrugs and picks up her phone.

Inej's phone buzzes the message tone as Nina sends her a name and address.

Inej eyes widen a little. "You can't be serious."

"I am." Nina winks. "He just likes to keep a low-profile by working at company's with a good reputation."

﹏ next morning ﹏

• Inej is still unsure because the details Nina had sent her last night belonged to an employee of the Ghafa Industries itself.

• She takes a breath and walks into the building that her parents had worked hard on from scratch.

• The receptionist immediately recognizes her and says, "Let me call your Uncle Mr. Haskell-"

"No need to disturb him." Inej says hurriedly and instead asks about the person Nina had sent her to see.

• With the details, Inej steps into the lift and stops on the 6th Floor: IT Section

• She searches around a bit and finally finds his room.

• She walks in and a guy clad in a casual black button-up and pants instantly turns around at the noise.

• "Umm..Kaz Brekker?" Inej begins. "I'm—"

"Inej Ghafa." the guy says curtly, his voice a brush of stone against stone. "That rich girl who has come back from the dead. Everyone knows who you are!"

Inej nods tensely. "Okay I need your help."

"Did Haskell send you here?"

"No, I don't need permission from Uncle Haskell to see anyone from my parents company!" she answers in frustration.

"In that case, there should'nt be any issues if I just call up your Uncle and ask him before helping y—"

"Dirtyhands!" she yells quickly and now he tenses.

His calm demeanor changes and he narrows his eyes on her. "How do you know that alias?"

"I have my sources." She answers as coolly as she can.

• Kaz Brekker looks around in thought for a moment. "Okay I'll help you but what do I get in return?"

"Anything within my reach." She says in annoyance.

"Anything?" He asks with raised brows, mischief glimmering in his coffee brown eyes.

Inej feels as if she's getting pulled into some kind of trap but agrees with a nod in the end.

"The deal is the deal." He says, bringing out his palm to her. They shake hands.

• Inej pulls out her father's diary from her jacket and gives him the first name from the long list. "Look up this guy and find everything on him. Even the darkest details."

Kaz gives her a suspicious look. "You're upto something bad."

"Just do as I say, we made a deal!"

He sighs but begins searching up, glancing occasionally at the door to make sure no one else walks in.

• Within two minutes he's done.

"Your guy is loaded like you." He comments, then adds in a quite voice. "He's also involved in illegal sales of weapons around the city."

• Inej just nods. "Thank you. What do you want in return?"

Kaz leans back in his chair and shrugs. "I'll think about it and tell you."

She nods again and motions to leave.

"What if I disclose our conversation to someone?" He asks just as she's at the door.

She turns, her grin threatening. "Then I'll just disclose the famous hacker Dirtyhands' identity."

His lips curve down in silent defeat. She leaves.

*thats all for now! Since it was getting too long. Let me know anon if you want a continuation of how Inej's first task as the vigilante Wraith ensues..And how Kaz gets tangled in it 😉

SoC Masterlist

[midnightmoonkiss]

Hand Snatcher

Izuku Midoriya X Fem! Reader

Summary: When a creep is following you, what else are you expected to do other than to grab a hero's hand and plead for help? Who knows, you might just get coffee from it.

WARNINGS!: None  :)

Category: Fluff

Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: Found a prompt list, forgot all other responsibilities and cracked down on this cliche ass shit

Just To Clarify:

It’s very early in the morning

Streets are practically void of people

The reader is an office worker

Deku is just a sidekick, and reader doesn’t know about him

“I’ll buy you coffee if you hold my hand for five minutes.!”

You pleadingly whisper to the hero clad in a green and black suit, grabbing his gloved hand and trying to control the shaking of your body as you pressed close to him.

You didn’t want this to happen, you didn’t think you’d ever have to reach out to a hero of people for help, but at the moment, you didn’t have much of a choice.

It was a hard concept to grasp, that crime would show itself on the streets so early in the morning. Dawn was just breaking the sky, orange and purple rays of light shone down on the buildings, encasing them in a fire-like glow.

You noticed him following you for a while, but you put it off, figuring he just so happened to be going in the same direction as you.

Of course, when you noticed him getting closer, taking the same unconventional turns as you, you put him to a test, walking faster and taking routes that differentiate from your usual ones.

He still followed you.

He matched your pace, coming closer and closer to your much smaller frame.

He was a big, burly man, and ironically enough, he was clad in a dusty trench coat and fedora.

It was unclear if he was trying to stand out by looking shady or match the setting of a 1950’s murder mystery.

Either way, it was unsettling, and it was obvious he was trying to get to you for some unknown reason.

So the moment you spotted the hero, you immediately power walked over to him, heels clicking loudly on the pavement, trying to hide the shaking of your knees.

You had to look confident, had to act like you knew just who you were walking up to despite never seeing the hero before.

You couldn’t just scream out for help, especially since the man following you hadn’t really done anything other than give you the scare of a lifetime. Not exactly enough to scream.

All that truly mattered was that if worse came to worse, surely he, a fellow burly man, could potentially protect you.

Who were you kidding, he could! That’s what heroes did, right?

Protect innocent civilians?

It was unnerving how the man followed behind you still, despite you clearly making your way to an authority figure.

“H-Hey!” You called out, a fearful smile on your face, “Funny seeing you here, huh?”

And that’s when you whispered those words to him, locking your fingers with his own, absentmindedly taking notice of how soft his gloves were, and how large his hand was.

Deku, the hero you just attached yourself to, already knew something was up the minute you called out to him.

It was obvious you were trying to get the hell away from that creepy-ass dude following you. The man even had the gall to try and grasp your arm at the last second but stopped once he made eye contact with the hero’s cold, glaring eyes.

It would scare anyone if they saw that, especially in this day-and-age where there still was no symbol of peace just yet, and crime was still on the rise.

He was working hard to lower that crime rate, but it would obviously take many years, same as it had been with Allmight. He was only a sidekick at the moment, after all.

So, without delay, he happily squeezed your hand, pulling you towards his large frame and smothering you in a protective hug.

“It is funny, but I’m so glad you ran into me! I missed you~!” He sang out, staring down into your wide (E/C) eyes.

Oh, thank god! He was actually going to help you!

Reporters on the news always said to pretend someone was a significant other of yours to fool any potential snatchers. You were always better off with two people than just one!

With a smile of relief, you both headed off in a different direction.

A peek over your shoulder showed the figure still standing there, staring at you with blue eyes filled with malice. 

It sent a shiver down your spine.

“It’s okay, I won’t let him touch you.” you looked up at the kind hero, heart warming at his gentle yet determined gaze.

“Ah.. thank you so much! He’s been following me for the past half hour. I don’t know why..” you relented, head tilting down to stare at your feet as you walked hand in hand with him.

It wasn’t that hard to tell he was trying to get you or something, you were previously alone, after all. The streets were empty. You were the perfect prey. He looked like one of those villains that stole women when they had the chance, dragging their unconscious bodies to a rusty van just for them to be sold on the black market.

The hero would know, because, funnily enough, that was his current mission. He was out on the streets so early looking for a perp just like that. He had been for the past week now.

In fact, he already sent his location to the agency with the click of a special button on his utility belt.

He didn’t expect one of them to actually be chasing a woman, he just thought he’d see one conveniently out in front of a van or something. Life really was full of surprises.

It was certainly a good thing he was there when he was, or else…

He didn’t want to think about what would’ve happened to you.

“You won’t have to worry about him anymore.” He promised, beginning to swing your hand between the two of you, a distraction of sorts and a form of comfort.

You were clearly shaken up, legs and shoulders still trembling as your free arm held itself comfortingly to your chest.

A quick look at your attire led him to believe you were an office worker of sorts, black pumps, pencil skirt, button-up shirt, and a black suit jacket.

Those shoes certainly made your leg trembles more apparently, and it hurt his heart to see someone so frightened. It always had. That familiar need to cheer someone up swelled in his chest,

“How about we get that coffee now? I’ll pay! It seems like you could use a second to catch your breath.”

Wha?! Your eyebrows rose in disbelief as you looked at him from the corner of your eye, how did he know?

Geeze, you need to start giving heroes more credit it seems.

They’re practically trained to be perceptive, you just hadn’t expected this one to see through you so easily!

You were exhausted, you’ve been walking for far too long in these damned heels, and that fear pumping through your veins wasn’t helping either.

How embarrassing..

With a stuttered inhale, you straightened your back, “I’ll be paying, if you don’t mind. You did help me, after all.”

“But that’s my job~” He teased, smirking down at your now flustered self. 

“Well! It’s my job to pay back my hero!” You declared, pouting as you glared up into his green eyes shimmering with amusement.

“Alright, alright. Just this once, then.” He agreed, holding the door open to a cafe.

You had no idea how you had gotten here so fast.

Nor did you have really any idea where you were. 

It seems the mysterious man had distracted you too much for you to really pay attention.

Which, in hindsight, was a relatively good thing. It definitely took your mind off of what happened only a few minutes ago.

Walking in, you were immediately hit with the pleasant smell of caramel, coffee, and the aroma of freshly baked pastries.

It was a tiny little rustic shop, polished dark wood surfaces taking up the majority of the space.

Not that you minded, it all fits so perfectly well with the cream walls chandeliers hanging down.

It screamed comfort, and you couldn’t help but wonder if their coffee tasted as good as this place looked.

You immediately walked to the front counter, delightfully ringing the small golden bell that sat on top of the display case.

The unnamed hero watched from behind, smiling at how your shoulders relaxed, your body suddenly not as tense as it was before.

 This shop was a personal favorite of his, he’d often come here for breakfast or before a late-night shift. It wasn’t too far from his agency, so it was perfect. That, and he really enjoyed the food and quality of coffee beans here. Though it was small, it was certainly one of the more luxurious shops he’s been to. That’s not to say it was expensive, though, it was all amazingly affordable. A godsend to his practically broke ass.

He had no idea that apartments in the city were so much money, and they were eating at each and every side-kick paycheck he’d get.

A little old lady wobbled out from what seemed to be a break room, used floorboards creaking under her every step. “Hello, hello! Welcome Sugar n’ Spice Cafe~ How may I help y- Oh! Well if it isn’t Mister Broccoli head!” The woman gushed, enthusiastically waving at the man behind you.

Looking back, you could see he was already frantically shaking his hands, sweat dotting at his forehead. The moment he noticed you looking back at him, he shoved his hands behind himself, almost dying on the spot as he noticed you trying to hold back giggles.

 “M-Mrs. Suzuki! Hi!” A nervous smile forced itself onto his freckled face, cheeks dusting a pretty pink.

Aw, he was trying to act suave, as if a little old lady didn’t just call him a vegetable.

How cute.

It was hard not to laugh at that.

His fluffy green hair did indeed resemble broccoli, perhaps that had been his nickname here for a while, leading you to the obvious conclusion that he’s been here multiple times before.

Still, it was funny that a hero, someone who is the personification of strength and power, was called a veggie.

“U-uhm,” He stuttered, gloved hand scratching at the back of his head as he avoided eye contact, “Could I get my usual?”

“Of course dear. And how about you? What can I get for you, sweet cheeks?”

You jumped as you were suddenly thrown into the conversation, previously absorbed by how cute the hero looked at the moment. “D-do you have (f/d)?” You shyly asked, shifting from one foot to the other. You hadn’t had a chance to really look at the menu, so you hoped they had it and you didn’t just embarrass yourself.

“Of course!” She beamed at you as her tiny fingers began typing on the computer screen.

“That’ll be a thousand yen, darling.” 

After swiftly paying for your drinks, your hand once again was seized by a much larger one as you were led to a small booth in the back, the walls providing a sort of comfort as you sat in the corner. You could clearly see the entire shop from where you sat, and you know for a fact no one could potentially sneak up on you like this. Did he know it as well, and that’s why he had you sit there? It certainly put you at ease.

He sat across from you, shifting for a second as he made sure his flowy white cape didn't fall into the other booth.

It was a wonder how he even fit in this booth, seeing as he had large leg braces on. Muscle memory, maybe? 

You sat in silence for a moment, still taking in the cafe and all the decor lining the walls and shelves.

“I’m Deku, by the way-” ‘Deku’ sputtered suddenly, hands resting on the table as he fiddled with his fingers. A nervous habit?

All around, he seemed like a nervous and sweet guy - despite you only knowing him for no less than ten minutes.

“I’m (Y/N). And, thank you, Deku, once again, for saving me. I know it must’ve been weird for you to suddenly be latched onto so early in the morning..” You laughed, fingers tapping on the smooth table as you couldn’t help but stare at his gloves.

They were so cool! You wondered what all those weird things on the knuckles were, and what purpose they served.

Heroes always had such interesting gadgets on them to help aid with something, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t interested in hero support tools. The thought and creativity that goes into them were outstanding.

“Don’t mention it! I’m just happy I was there when I was.” All this man seemed to do was smile, and it was honestly a relief to know you hadn’t really bothered him.

“Order up!” Mrs. Suzuki called to both of you. Just as you were about to get up, Deku flung himself from his seat, knees knocking loudly on the table as he did so.

“Sorry!” He called back to you as he rushed to get your drinks.

It was.. Kind of endearing, seeing him flounder around a bit, it really opened your eyes a bit. It made you realize that even if they were heroes, they weren’t perfect, and they were just as normal as you were. It was hard to see that difference in today’s society. Heroes were always held on a pedestal, ones that they graciously accepted and thrived off of. 

But he certainly seemed different.

You were probably dragging him away from his work, now that you realized it, and yet he continued to stay here with you, calming you down with just his presence alone.

It didn’t even matter that he was capable of beating the shit out of that guy from before, it just mattered that he was a kind gentleman hoping to help a lady in distress.

It didn’t seem like he was looking for praise, money, any of that, he just... He genuinely wanted to help you.

You smiled to yourself. The world was corrupt, but maybe he could help with that. Be an example to others, especially to aspiring heroes already in the making.

It was his job, as he mentioned before, but he showered you in unnecessary kindness. 

What a hero.

You’d certainly make sure to condemn the name ‘Deku’ to memory.

Maybe even do research once you get home from your office job.

You had an hour before it started, and you didn’t really have any clue where you were since you didn’t pay attention.

You’d have to suck up what little pride you had left and asked the man where the fuck you were.

Just then, a cup was delicately placed down in front of you, paired with shuffling as he squeezed into the opposite seat.

“Thank you for paying! I hope I can repay you someday.” He added cheerfully whilst sipping at his hot beverage, before almost choking once he realized what he said.

Your cheeks heated up at the proposition, you’d be able to meet him again?!

Ah, but,

“Didn’t we just meet, Mr. Deku? I’m practically a stranger, and you’re already proposing a date.”

You teased, similar to what he had done to you earlier as you stared at him through your lashes.

He found himself gulping quite loudly, much to his dismay, cheeks flaring up as he felt like a mouse under your alluring gaze.

“W-well, uhm, m-maybe we can.. Get to know each other for a bit? I mean! If you’re not busy, of course! I-I know this is really random! I’m sorry if I’m freaking you out! I’m not really used to all of this, it seems like a date already even though I know it’s not. I assume things too much, I’m so sorry! I’m just someone who helped you and you wanted to repay the favor- thank you again by the way! I guess you could say I’m attracted to you a bit?! Y-you’re really cute! And I! I want to get to know you more! If I’m making you uncomfortable, tell me, and I’ll just-”

You reached over, placing your much smaller hand over his own, successfully cutting off his adorable rambling.

“It is a bit strange, but I don’t mind it. I’d like to get to know my savior a bit more, too.”

His lips turn into a wobbly smile, blush darkening at the contact, despite the two of you holding hands not long ago.

“But yeah! Let’s get to know each other a bit.”

And so, after a half-hour of chatting and laughter, you were shown to the nearest train station, given his number, and a promise to meet again soon.

In the back of your mind, you wondered what had happened to that creep, but later in the day, you’d find out, thanks to local news reporters, that he was captured and arrested not long after you left the scene.

Oh yeah.

You sure were happy you woke up extra early that morning, even if it was originally to head into the office to complete some work leftover from the day before, but you weren’t too excited to spend overtime on it now that you lost the chance. 

But you wouldn’t trade that time for the world, because your luck just hit an all-time high, seeing as you just potentially snagged the world’s greatest bachelor.

[pannyacottafugo]

i really don’t like that bonus chapter of purple haze feedback and i feel like ranting about it. there are some interesting things that got brought up but overall i feel like it was a really strange thing to add on to a book which was already really good, but the addition of that chapter ruins some of the characters and it really annoys me. i prefer not to consider it as canon to phf. apologies for my incoherency i don’t write very well and have a hard time collecting my thoughts lmao. also this is hella long sorry

i’ll do it in a list format i guess idk

- mista was surprisingly probably the most realistic out of the three characters ? however i still very much don’t like his characterisation in both phf and the bonus chapter. he seems so much more resentful and angry than he did in canon. i understand to some extent at least, because his friends have just died and it makes sense for him to resent giorno for this. however jumping straight to wanting to murder him despite knowing that bucciarati wanted this and they knew the risk they were taking seems extremely harsh even for someone who’s this mad. however, i at least understand his motives and do believe he would hold some level of anger towards giorno that he needs to overcome and forgive him, the same as fugo.

- giornos characterisation is shit. im sorry but it’s so bad, and it ruins his character in phf and imo is a large part of the reason many people believe fugio to be manipulative. giorno in the final chapter of phf is empathetic and understanding towards fugo, and have a clear motive of wanting to help him move on. in the bonus chapter, he jumps from being righteous with a goal, to a manipulative asshole who seems like he’s been waiting for the moment to get into power. this then ruins his previous character, because it makes him seem shady, as if he was hiding this goal all along. i think giorno was aspiring for some level of power, which is something taken from dio, but at the end of the day his goals were good and he wasn’t there to use people to his advantage. stuff he does out of character that really bothered me was telling mista if he killed him he would be the fourth person (straight up using his tetraphobia against him), being extremely unempathetic and lacking any compassion to mista who just lost his friends (aka being an ass for no reason), and telling trish this is the end of her time with the gang (which i’ll get into in a sec). all this just is poor characterisation and it changes the reader’s perspective of giornos behaviour towards fugo, because it makes him look sneaky, as if he’s lying to fugo to control him WHICH HE WASNT DOING

- the fact that giorno cuts trish off really bothered me too. she was fifteen, had no family, and had formed a close relationship with both bucciarati (who she saw as a father figure) and narancia (who had deep empathy for her). yet giorno cuts her off with no real explanation and doesn’t even let her attend their funerals AND FOR WHAT. SHE HAS NO WHERE TO GO. it made me so mad so mad

- the comparison between trish and bruno’s mum was extremely weak and didn’t make much sense. in trish’s case, bruno sacrificed himself for her own good, to help someone he cared for. bruno’s mum was on the opposite end, and bruno chose to throw away a better life for himself to help his DAD which then meant his mum couldn’t see him often either. so there really isn’t much comparison between the two because they were on different ends of bruno’s kindness.

- and then finally the thing that REALLY pissed me off was trish basically calling bruno an asshole for dying for her. i understand where the author was going, and it is actually a really interesting concept. trish believes that she would have been better off dead, and bruno sacrificing his life for her didnt lead to her living a better life like he thought it would. so on the one hand, i can read this as “he was too kind for his own good”. and she then says that someone like giorno can turn these things in his favour, but regular people like her can’t. HOWEVER IT DOESNT GO IN THIS DIRECTION. it just seems as though the author missed the point of bruno’s sacrifice for trish and also seems to believe giornos motivations come from him being selfish. plus the fact that there’s a comparison between trish and her mum makes things worse, considering the mum has no reason to believe bruno to be awful other than the fact that he “abandoned her” for someone else. in trish’s case, he didn’t abandon her, she was abandoned by giorno, and was saved by bruno.

anyway, this is likely extremely incoherent. there’s a lot more i could say but i don’t wanna write a whole novel so i’ve probably missed a lot. plus i’d probably have to reread the chapter for better insight. i have a hard time writing what i’m thinking too.

i guess my main disappointment in this chapter is that it feels as though it’s a poor interpretation of vento aureo, and anything that may be interesting is executed poorly or turns in a direction that either mischaracterises or is a massive reach. it feels like the author had a direction but it was messy and didn’t hit like it should have, and the main idea was lost.

the addition of this chapter just feels like it destroys some of the really good characterisation in phf. this is why i prefer to ignore this and pretend it isn’t canon to purple haze feedback, which it doesn’t have to be considering i have a copy of the book (in japanese) and from what i can tell this chapter isn’t included.

also if u haven’t and ur interested read it urself don’t listen to me i’m just some random what do i know. and if u like it that’s good for u too. chances are i’m just an idiot

[argylemnwrites]

Fight or Flight - Chapter 5: Judgement

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu)

Book: The Royal Heir (canon divergent from the end of book 2)

Word Count: ~3800

Rating: PG

Summary: Three hours since The Walker Absconding

Author’s Note: Remember in TRR3 when Hana planned to move in to Valtoria, even if not romanced? Well, even though canon seems to have forgotten this fact, I still remember it. Thus, in this series, Hana lives permanently at Valtoria, just in a separate wing from the Walkers.

This series follows the Walkers, their friends, and Cordonia as a whole after they flee the country with their daughter during Barthelemy Beaumont’s attempted coup. To catch up on this series, check out it’s masterlist. (link can be found via my bio - sorry, Tumblr is once again not putting my posts with links in tag searches)

“I’m sorry. But we aren’t risking coming back.”

Hana glanced up from the phone as Drake’s words cut through the room. She’d been preparing for this, mentally steeling herself for the confirmation. It still was shocking, though. How quickly everything was changing… for all of them.

She tried to read Olivia’s expression. She was expecting more fire and rage than she witnessed across her face, but instead she mainly saw exhaustion as her eyes fluttered closed for a brief moment and she let out a heavy breath through her nose. Certainly, some anger was visible. Her jaw was clenched and her red fingernails clutched the edge of Liam’s desk so tightly that Hana was concerned that she would damage the finish.

Seeing Olivia’s manicure prompted Hana to glance down at her own fingernails, painted a pale gold with just a bit of sparkle. She and Riley had watched a few rom coms last night as they did their fingers and toes, a tradition that had started back during Liam’s engagement tour. Riley had selected a shocking neon lime green this time, telling Hana she liked to keep the other nobles on their toes. Well, she had certainly done that today.

“I suppose you aren’t interested in hearing how terrible of an idea this is,” Olivia sighed out, interrupting Hana’s thoughts.

“Not really.”

“Well, I won’t be able to stop the treason charges. And you’ll be clearly guilty of the kidnapping, so I don’t know how you see this panning out here, Walker.”

There was a slight pause before Drake responded, “Uhhh… do we know who will be charging us with kidnapping yet?”

“You mean, are you going to force the hand of the man who has been with you through everything, who considers you his closest friend, or rather, who considers you to be his brother, to be the one who calls for your arrest?” Olivia’s voice was thick with malice and judgement, but her face was calm and calculated. Hana realized she wasn’t actually experiencing the emotions she was attempting to convey, at least nowhere near that intensely. She was trying to intentionally guilt Drake into agreeing to her original plan.

There was no response for several tense seconds. Hana began to wonder if Drake had hung up on them, but eventually, his voice came through the speaker of Olivia’s phone. “Yeah, that’s what I’m asking.”

Olivia grimaced slightly before answering, “We don’t know yet. A High Court justice will have to set up an emergency hearing to see who will hold power going forward. That hasn’t happened yet.”

“Okay… How’s… how’s Liam doing?”

“He’s fairly stressed, Drake. It’s a lot to handle - fighting a surprise coup, particularly when your allies start abandoning you and making a run for it.”

“Olivia… I…. I’m sorry. Can you tell him that?”

Olivia’s eyes rolled up in her head. She clearly wasn’t swaying him like she’d hoped she’d be able to do. “Tell me, Drake. Was this your brilliant plan, or was it your wife’s?”

“No.” Drake’s voice took on a sudden edge, clear even over speaker phone. “You are not going to try and divide us here. This is our family. You don’t get to judge the decisions we’ve made.”

“Okay, so obviously this was Riley’s idea. Put her on the phone.”

“No. She doesn’t have to listen to this shit.”

“She’s a grown woman. She doesn’t need you to play big, strong protector here. So hand her your damn phone.”

Hana wasn’t sure what tactics Olivia was planning to use to sway Riley, but if they were anything like the ones she’d tried on Drake, she knew it could turn ugly. Drake was more likely to internalize the pain Olivia threw at him, but Riley had a tendency to lash out. The last thing that needed to happen was to have Riley and Olivia devolve into bitter screaming.

“Wait!” Hana said, “Let me talk to Riley, Drake.”

Olivia raised an eyebrow, but didn’t object as a muffled, “Hana wants to talk to you,” drifted through the phone. There were a few seconds of rustling before Riley’s voice came across loud and clear.

“Hana?” She sounded a bit frail, almost as if she’d been crying. Hana couldn’t recall ever having seen her cry.

“Hi, Riley. How are you?”

“Not gonna lie; things have been better.”

Well, at least she still had some of her humor. “Look, sweetie. I just want to make sure you and Drake and Bridget are doing what’s best, okay? I want to be able to help you, in whatever ways you need.”

“Hana, I’m sorry. But we can’t come back. If Barthelemy comes out of this with the power of the Crown, there might not be a way to stop him from taking my daughter, and I can’t take that chance.”

Olivia opened her mouth to retort, but Hana shook her head vigorously. Riley fought back when she felt backed into a corner. It was essential to keep her from going on the defensive.

“Okay. Well, I don’t know how much help I’ll be able to provide you if you’re on the run. Are you sure you can’t come back and we can fight this together, like we always have done?”

She heard a little sniffle before Riley spoke again, “No… Hana, I’m sorry. She’s not your kid, and I just… I need to keep her away from all the assholes trying to take her from me.”

Hana closed her eyes and swallowed. It was obvious that Riley was not willing to consider alternatives, and she was stubborn enough that Hana knew she wasn’t going to get anywhere. With her last hope of being able to reunite their little found family completely shattered, Hana switched the focus of her conversation.

“I understand, Riley. You and Drake focus on keeping your little girl safe, okay? I’ll take care of the corgis and anything else you need me to handle at the estate.”

“Thank you, Hana,” Riley sighed, the relief evident in her voice.

“Well, I guess there’s nothing left for us to discuss at this point,” Olivia said, massaging her forehead with one hand. “Only answer your phones for either Hana or me at this point. We have to figure out how much to tell Liam, okay?”

“Why wouldn’t you tell him-”

“Riley, do you want to get charged with treason and have extradition orders sent out across the EU for your kidnapping today, or would you like a little time before that happens?”

Riley gave no response, but Olivia took her silence as agreement. “That is why Liam can’t know right now. But Hana and I will be in touch. Got it?”

“Yes.”

“Do not answer your phones for anyone other than the two of us. Understood?”

“Understood.”

“Excellent. Goodbye.”

“Bye, Ol-” but Olivia ended the call before Riley could even finish saying goodbye. She let out a sigh and tipped her head back in her chair.

“Well… That was about what I expected,” she breathed out before looking at Hana. “Obviously, not a word of any of this to anyone until we get through the judicial hearing and figure out how much power Liam holds here.”

Hana nodded. She understood the need for secrecy at this point. What she didn’t understand was why Olivia was including her so fully in the entire process. “Why me?”

“Hmmm?”

“Why did you want me here for this?”

“Because two of us should know. This isn’t the sort of thing that goes well with only one person scrambling to keep things covered up. It makes that person look very guilty and shady. So, I needed someone here. Liam would be obligated to act, and Maxwell is a shitty liar, so that left you.”

The implications of her statement raced through Hana’s mind. “You think I’m a good liar?”

Olivia shrugged, “I think you can keep your cool better than Maxwell, that’s for sure. And maybe a few years ago I would have said ‘no,’ but now… I think you can probably keep up a convincing enough poker face.” And at that, she picked up her phone and started typing quickly.

“What are you doing?”

Olivia didn’t take her eyes off the screen as she kept typing. “I’m telling Ray he should buy them some basic supplies, you know, clothing, food, toiletries, that sort of thing, before he heads back. I’m letting him know I’ll reimburse those expenses.”

“Seriously?”

She gave another little shrug. “You heard them. I think they are being idiots, but there’s not going to be any way to change their minds at this point. So it’s time to move on to planning next stages. Once their disappearance is fully noticed, it’ll be a lot harder to help them. But for now, we just have to do what we can.” 

Hana smiled at Olivia’s generosity. She knew she was right. Going forward - if Barthelemy succeeded - their group would likely be subject to increased surveillance due to their known close connections with Drake and Riley. And while Hana hoped that Liam’s lawyers might be able to put a stop to things, waiting to find out if that was the case would likely be too late. There were steps that needed to be taken now.

“I need to get to Valtoria, don’t I?” she asked. Olivia had an employee with them now, but Hana knew that her permanent residence at Valtoria would grant her opportunities to act without much suspicion, at least at the moment.

Olivia raised an eyebrow at her. “You up for that?”

Hana gave her a crisp nod. “It will go better if I can get things taken care of before anyone official comes looking for them there, won’t it?”

“Absolutely. You have a way to get there?”

She shook her head. “I mean, I know how to drive, but I don’t have a vehicle here.”

Olivia was silent for a few seconds, her eyes rolling up and darting back and forth. “You guys came via limo, right?”

She nodded. Given that it was the start of the Social Season, they’d used a limo service, even with Drake grumbling that they should have just taken their own car. He probably wanted that car even more at the moment. 

“Right,” Olivia continued, “Call up the company you used and tell them someone from the Valtoria party is ill and that you’d like to move up the pick up to as soon as possible. Make sure you act like you have a migraine or something for the ride so you don’t cause immediate suspicion with that story.

“When you get home, be subtle where you can. Don’t hide routine documents that center around Valtoria’s day to day functioning. Just grab their personal documents. And only gather up a small chunk of their personal belongings. Obviously, it’s a judgement call on what to pack away, but try not to make it obvious that items are missing - leave their quarters looking lived in. Will the staff question your presence in their private rooms?”

Hana shook her head. “The staff are all gone. Drake and Riley hate having them there, so they pretty much always give them the day off if they are coming to the capital.”

“I never thought I would say this, but god bless Drake Walker and his unrefined ways. Do you have somewhere you can stash their things where they won’t be found until we figure out how to get them to them quietly?”

“I think so.”

“No, Hana. You need to know so. Because Liam can’t afford to have any more of his allies clearly committing criminal activity today, and if you are found to have been aiding them in their ‘kidnapping,’ well then…”

“I understand, Olivia. I’ll make sure things aren’t found.”

“Good. Well, we both have jobs to do, I guess.”

Hana took that as a dismissal. She stood, smoothing the wrinkles out of her dress as she walked out of Liam’s office. “Good luck, Olivia.”

“Same to you, Hana. Same to you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time a justice of the High Court had been summoned, legal briefs submitted, and an emergency session called, it was nearly 10:30 pm. Liam was hungry and more than ready for this day to be over, but he sat still at the prosecution desk in the courtroom, dressed in his regalia. He hoped it sent a clear message that this title was still his.

The courthouse was eerily quiet at this hour, and both teams had brought limited personnel. At each desk were two lawyers, plus the official named parties on the case - Barthelemy and Liam himself. The gallery was nearly empty as well, with only Olivia, Bertrand, and Maxwell seated on Liam’s side of the courtroom and Adelaide and Landon on the other. Kiara was not in attendance. He wondered where she was and what she might be doing instead of coming to this hearing. He also wondered if Barthelemy’s team had noticed the absence of Drake and Riley in a similar fashion. All he could hope was that they assumed that it was too late for them to be here with Bridget.

The case was being heard by Lilith Questa, a woman in her late 60s and the second longest serving of the five justices on the High Court. High Justice Questa wasn’t the most favorable justice from Liam’s perspective, but she wasn’t the least favorable either. She had served on the High Court since Liam was a teenager, and she often took a no-nonsense stance in the decisions she wrote. She usually erred on the side of strict adherence to the letter of the law, which should help them, but had little patience for bureaucratic red tape and nobility that tried to squirm through loopholes. He wasn’t sure if that would hurt his side or Barthelemy’s side more. Realistically, it probably meant she would have limited patience for both camps.

“Please stand for High Justice Lilith Questa, Representative of Our King’s Court.”

In spite of the usher’s instructions, Liam remained firmly seated in his chair as the justice walked in, clearly still shrugging on her robes over jeans and a sweatshirt, her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail instead of her usual bun. This might be her court, but all the courts were technically his. All justices represented him and his law. Reigning monarchs were in fact the only ones not required to rise in Cordonian courtrooms, and he was not going to give so clear a visual signal that his power was in question by standing for the justice. Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at the defense desk. Barthelemy also remained in his chair.

“This is an emergency hearing of the High Court in the matter of His Majesty, King Liam, versus Lord Barthelemy Beaumont. All parties have been sworn in, Your Honor,” said the court’s usher.

The justice nodded as she sank into her seat, the rest of the room returning to their chairs a moment later. “Alright, let’s get things started here. It’s late, and someone needs to be running this country,” she quipped, fanning out a stack of papers on the bench in front of her. “I’ve read your briefings. His Majesty is arguing that the vote conducted by the Conventus Nobilis is invalid because it was called by an improper party, is that correct?”

Liam felt a little jolt of relief. The fact that she still referred to him as “His Majesty” was a likely indication that she was siding with him. He could tell Diana, the head of his legal team, had noticed that as well as tension fell from her shoulders as she stood to address the justice. He didn’t want to count his apples before they ripened, but this was a very good sign.

“Yes, Your Honor. The statutes pertaining to the Conventus Nobilis clearly state that only the head of a major noble house may call such a session. Lord Barthelemy Beaumont does not hold that title.”

“I’m inclined to agree with His Majesty’s lawyers here,” High Justice Questa said with a little nod, her eyes roving over papers as she spoke. “Lord Beaumont, doesn’t the fact that I am addressing you a ‘lord’ and not ‘duke’ tend to indicate that you are not the head of House Beaumont?”

“Your Honor,” said Charles, the lawyer representing Barthelemy, as he stood, “Barthelemy has been gradually resuming duties as head of House Beaumont as he has recovered his health over the past year. In fact, Duke Beaumont is set to travel to the States to visit his in-laws for the entire Social Season, and he signed documentation handing over all daily duties to my client here. I’ve included that document in my briefing.”

“Yes, I saw that. However, the fact that the Conventus Nobilis hasn’t been called in several hundred years would indicate to me that it doesn’t exactly fall under ‘daily duties,’ Charles.”

“Be that as it may, Your Honor, Cordonia has a long established precedent of dividing official duties of the noble houses between members of that house as they see fit, and that document we provided does afford Barthelemy Beaumont the powers of head of household while Duke Beaumont is unavailable.”

The justice looked up from her papers at that, eyes staring down the occupants of the defense desk with a withering intensity. “Charles, can you tell me who is the man seated behind His Majesty?” she asked, gesturing to the gallery seating behind Liam.

Charles turned and looked, pausing for a moment before he responded, “That would be Duke Beaumont, Your Honor.”

“So, he’s clearly not unavailable,” she said, raising her eyebrows and shaking her head, “but nice try.”

Liam kept his face neutral, but he wanted to grin so badly. He heard a tiny little snort behind him, likely Olivia revelling in High Justice Questa’s snide little exercise. It was becoming painfully clear that she viewed this whole endeavor as a waste of her time and resented having to appear for this emergency session at all.

“Lord Beaumont recused himself from the vote!” Charles cried out in obvious frustration with the way this hearing was proceeding. 

“Yes, but the vote was never proper and should not have occurred. And in fact, Lord Beaumont wasn’t the only one who did not have the right to be there. The records submitted by both parties indicate that Lady Kiara Theron voted for House Theron, and while Duke Theron may have relinquished some of his duties to his daughter to facilitate an upcoming formal transition of power, participation in the Conventus Nobilis cannot be assigned to anyone other than the proper head of house.

“As far as I can see it, this is a clear case of an improper summoning of the Conventus Nobilis. Therefore, any actions taken by that body are not recognized by the High Court of Cordonia. I find in favor of His Majesty. This matter is now closed.” And with a bang of her gavel, High Justice Questa rose from her bench, gathered up her papers, and swept out of the courtroom. This time, Barthelemy stood with the rest of the room.

Diana turned to face Liam once the door swung shut behind the justice. “Congratulations, Your Majesty!”

He gave her a gentle smile. “It’s you and your team who deserve the congratulations. You compiled all the briefs in record time.”

She bowed her head slightly as she accepted the compliment. “Is there anything else you require from my team tonight?”

Liam glanced over to the defense team. Barthelemy was conferring with Adelaide, frantic whispers being exchanged between the two. After a moment, he gestured towards Landon, who stood up and joined them.

Liam felt a tap on his arm, so he turned his attention towards Olivia. Her eyes were locked on the same brewing conversation. “He’s still scheming,” she said, a scowl etched across her face. “I bet he’s convincing one of them to call the Conventus Nobilis again for another vote since he can’t.”

He knew she was probably right. It was unlikely, after all, that a coup would be halted this easily. “I’m inclined to agree. Bertrand, I’m afraid I’m going to ask you to postpone your trip to Texas. I need your vote.”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Bertrand said with a solemn nod.

“It’ll be Hakim instead of Kiara voting. Maybe we could flip him?” mused Olivia.

Liam shook his head. “Maybe, but it seems unlikely Lady Kiara and him didn’t discuss how she would be voting for their house. It may be worth a chance, but contacting him should wait until morning at this point.”

Olivia nodded in agreement, but at that moment, Landon came over and approached Bertrand and Olivia. “Duke Beaumont, Duchess Nevrakis, I’m calling a meeting of the Conventus Nobilis tomorrow at the palace. This is your formal notification. Do you understand?”

“I do,” said Bertrand, hesitating for just a moment before shaking Landon’s offered hand.

“Oh, I’ll be there,” said Olivia, merely raising an eyebrow when Landon reached out to shake her hand, forcing him to awkwardly drop his arm and turn away after a few moments.

Liam let out a sigh. “I’m afraid I’ll still be requiring your team this evening, Diana.”

She gave him a small little smile and nodded. “Of course, Your Majesty. We’ll reconvene in Lady Olivia’s quarters?”

“Sounds perfect. How about I bring some late night sustenance for your lawyers?”

“Oh, you don’t need to do that-”

“I insist. I know I’m starving, and I’m guessing your team feels similarly.”

As Diana thanked him and left to return to the palace, Liam turned to Olivia tilting his head to the side. She stepped a few meters away from Bertrand and Maxwell, watching to see if they were paying attention out of the corner of her eye, but as far as Liam could tell, they were wrapped up in their own conversation.

“Did you speak to Drake and Riley?” he asked, keeping his voice low.

“I did,” she replied, but her tone and her expression revealed nothing else.

“And?”

“They are safe.”

Liam’s heart sank. The fact that she was refusing to divulge more information was essentially proof that Drake had fled the country with Riley and Bridget. A wave of loneliness and isolation washed over him, but he quickly tried to squash it down. He still had Olivia and Maxwell and Bertrand and Hana. He needed to handle this rationally. “Anything else I should know from your conversation?”

There was a brief pause before Olivia answered, “Not at this point, I don’t think. You should just focus on working with your lawyers to prepare a case for tomorrow, when the no confidence vote will likely be legitimate.”

He swallowed roughly, and she must have noticed, because she reached out and squeezed his hand while giving him a sad little smile. Taking a deep breath, he nodded at her. “Come on; we need to return to the palace. We have a Crown to save.”

Permatag:  @walkerswhiskeygirl   @riley--walker  @bebepac @ravenpuff02 @oofchoices @octobereighth @drakewalker04 @kimmiedoo5  @mfackenthal  @thequeenofcronuts  

The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir: @ao719 @mskaneko @katedrakeohd @jovialyouthmusic @marshmallowsandfire @axwalker @kingliam2019 @sirbeepsalot @texaskitten30 @princessleac1 @ladyangel70 @dcbbw @yaushie

Drake x MC: @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria  @iplaydrake @gibbles82 @drakewalkerisreal @notoriouscs  @drakesensworld @drake-colt-lover-99

Fight or Flight: @masterofbluff @burnsoslow @bobasheebaby @shz256 @iaminlovewithtrr​

[hey-hamlet]

BNHA AU Ideas: Grand Design

Also on AO3! 

TL;DR:

If you asked the Heroics Commission why they created Izuku, you'd get an answer pretty close to the truth. The rising power of quirks was making them nervous, and All Might won't live forever.

What they aren't mentioning is the fact that they don't like All Might either.

He's kind and good and dedicated to people over the country. The man will break countless laws to save a single life and has defied the heroics commission on many occasions - something they can't punish him for in any way without being slammed by the media.

So, they come up with a plan.

if you asked the heroics commission why they created Izuku, you'd get an answer pretty close to the truth

the rising power of quirks was making them nervous, and all might won't live forever. 'there might be another quirk as powerful as all mights just around the corner for the heroes' you might say. 'we're just taking away the 'might'' they'd reply

but what they aren't mentioning is the fact that they don't like All Might either.

he's kind and good and dedicated to people over country. the man will break countless laws to save a single life and has defied the heroics commission on many occasions - something they can't punish him for in any way without being slammed by the media

so, they come up with a plan

"if we can't control all might, we make the next all might ourselves"

sure, the doctor who does the work for them is a little shady, but it can't be helped. quirk genetic experiments were recently made illegal in a case spearheaded by nezu himself. nezu doesn't exactly agree with a total ban and is encouraging regulation in place of a blanket stop, but its been years and the laws are going nowhere fast

maybe the man has some shady connections to some shady people all too eager to replace all might? oh well, it can be managed

so

a pregnant woman called Inko Midoriya shows up at a hospital, dead on arrival, with the baby inside her still clinging to life?

well.

thats just convenient, isn't it?

they extract the child, pronounce the mother dead and whisk the child away into 'foster care', or the arms of the good doctor

when he's revealed to be quirkless? at first the commission is dubious but the doctor assures them this is perfect. he doesn't have to base the quirk off anything, it can be built from the ground up, as exactly the quirk the commission wants

izuku is born 3 months premature to a dead mother and one month later has a strong enough combination of quirks to take down all might when he grows up.

there is a bit of a catch, though. due to the whole 3 months early and dead mother thing, his constitution isn't the greatest, leaving him pretty sickly. the doctor assures him he'll be much better when he grows up (he’s lying). still - it’s a long while until their creation will be an adult. they could let him grow up normally in a nice house, only to pounce on him when he's grown a little stronger

but a chance of letting their perfect child slip away? nope. they resolve to train him as soon as he can crawl.

A few variations of this AU bc I had loads of quirk ideas before I settled on one - Knock Off For All: Izuku has a quirk as similar to OFA as was possible to create without being able to stockpile, complete with the achy breaky bones (no extra quirks) - Power Set: Izuku has a set of the most useful quirks the doctor could think of, ala USJ nomu (Shock nullification, Regeneration, Super Strength, etc) - Midorigiri: Izuku has a powerful combination quirk like a certain cloud mist dude. Probably either a shock absorption + redirection quirk / all 4 elemental types / guardian angel: wings, flight, hard light construct, healing - All for Naught: Izuku has a knock off of All for One that lets him perma copy 5 quirks at a time

So, Guardian Angel is the quirk I’m going with, mostly for the Hawks parallels. They end up basically being raised with each other, hawks jokingly calling Izuku his little brother. He almost cries when Izuku asks what that is.

Izuku’s quirk allows him to fly with a set of wings (he has hollow bones to facilitate this), can create hard light constructs; the more complicated the shape the harder it is and was originally classified as a forcefield quirk before Izuku got creative with it, and gives him the ability to heal.

All abilities excluding flight are based on the amount of ambient light. The brighter it is, the stronger his constructs and the better he can heal. His blood glows. Make of that what you will.

The problem being that while his quirk/s are strong, Izuku himself is very weak. He has chronic anaemia, difficulty putting on weight, a heart murmur, weak lungs, etc. the HA don’t care at all and make him train until he can’t walk.

From birth till 7 Izuku has no contact with people outside the facility, whereupon he is promptly dumped into a public school for 5 days a week. The education he gets there isn’t important, he’ll learn what he needs at the facility. What they do deem as important is A, creating a paper trail for the kid and B, socializing him somewhat.

People flock to him for his quirk, cementing what they always told him. “All of your worth is in your quirk. You have an obligation to save others.”

Plus, they’ve told him he wasn’t born like everyone else, he was created. Different, artificial, inhuman, those where all words used to describe him at the facility. He finds it difficult to make friends.

He forms a strange almost friendship with Bakugo as the only other kid with a super powerful quirk in the school, even if it’s more of a support quirk than anything else. Izuku silently heals Bakugo when he gets into fights, Bakugo snarls at anyone who makes Izuku too uncomfortable. It’s odd, but it works.

Izuku’s personality is similar to canon in the fact he's the same person but it’s a little jumbled.

He’s even less trusting of adults than canon which is saying something, but he doesn’t have canons blatant disregard for authority. If he breaks a rule he makes sure he doesn’t get caught because the punishments he’s had before left scars.

His anger runs a little closer to the surface but he feels like a bad person for feeling any emotion that isn’t positive so he crushes it down under forced optimism. Izuku shows his anger rarely and when he does, it’s quiet and vicious.

If an authority figure tells him to do something, he does it. It takes a while for Aizawa to break the kid’s conditioned need to respond automatically to any request from a ‘Handler’. Aizawa is very afraid of where it came from, but Nezu can’t find anything about this kid other than the record of his birth and his school enrolments.

Izuku thinks he’s less valuable than others which is pretty canon, at least at the start, but here it’s because he’s ‘not as good/natural/ something’ as a ‘normal’ human. Most of the UA teacher see it, but they have no idea why he thinks he’s lesser so their mixed attempts at questioning/comfort fall pretty flat. Izuku is convinced they would abandon him if they knew.

So, Izuku has a complicated relationship with the concept of All Might.

To start off with, even with everything that happened, Izuku adores heroes right down to his very core. Hawks counts the HA lucky that they didn’t accidentally turn Izuku into a villain. Izuku’s favourite hero is All Might, but -

For a start, he was told he was made to be better than All Might. The part of the HA that created him isn’t fond of the no. 1 as someone they can’t at all control, Izuku has basically been taught that All Might is lying to the world with the way he presents himself and that he’s secretly a terrible person and would hate him for both being artificial and for being made to be better than him

Ergo, Izuku is shit scared of him.

Izuku wants to go to UA because Katsuki is going to UA and Katsuki is the only person other than Hawks he’s ever had a somewhat close relationship with. The HA thinks: eh, fuck it, it’ll be a nice fuck you to All Might anyway.

Then All Might is announced as a teacher after Izuku has been accepted and all hell breaks loose.

A brief set of things that happen:

Dadmight and Dadzawa to the extreme, all of 1A basically adopts Izuku instantly (after they get over the fear of his crazy quirk lmao). All Might and Eraserhead are Izuku’s favourite heroes, other than Hawks, so he's both terrified and in awe of them at all times. He finds himself both loving the familial affection he was denied as a child and being terrified they’d think he was a monster when they learnt he was made to overtake All Might, and isn’t a ‘real person’.

Izuku gets OFA, eventually. It ends up improving his physical health which is neat, along with its extra quirks and strengthening of his own.

Todoroki hates Izuku a little from the beginning, although he’d never admit it. Izuku’s quirk is incredibly powerful and he didn’t have to undergo Todoroki’s childhood torment (Which is Incorrect, but he doesn’t exactly know that, does he) When Todoroki finds out (sports festival, Izuku has a pretty emotional response to his little angst time and lets a few things slip) he becomes fiercely protective of him.

Izuku and Bakugo develop an actual friendship and it’s an adventure

Izuku gets kidnapped along with Bakugo at the training camp, during which the doctor, AFO or Shigiraki reveal he was created to beat All Might, just like the Nomu. Izuku wants to run away out of fear/shame, but Bakugo drags him along with the rescue attempt. Izuku, too scared to go back to the HA or UA, wants nothing more than to vanish off the face of the earth. When Aizawa and All Might visit him and Bakugo at the hospital, Izuku breaks down crying and cowers in fear, convinced his teachers are either going to hurt or kill him. Everyone involved is horrified. They try to calm him down but just seeing them is scaring the shit out of Izuku so they end up getting chased out by Bakugo who clumsily comforts him.

[mikkock]

Hey hi your murder mystery art is super totally cool and amazing and I'd like to Extra! Extra! hear all about it *rattles bells*

haha wow i cant believe ud ask me THIS! unbelievable! now im gonna have to make a long post!

all info under the cut cause im kind like that ♥

For reasons I felt like making a Fancy Ass murder mystery story, with you know, hella complex secret storylines and everyone having drama and shit, and one person died but the more the story goes the less people care about who did the murder and the more they want tHE JUICY DETAILs. X and Y had an afFAIR you say!!! well that’s thousands time more interesting than that murder that happened, who cares about the culprit its not like any of us are going anywhere anyway! tell me more about the marital issues!

The ultimate Vibes are Clue (the game, ya kno, it had a movie too, and that movie was shot with three different endings -fun fact- so that movie theatres could play one alternatively that way people wouldnt get spoiled or even if they did they would not get the ending they were spoiled or even if all three were spoiled you couldnt know which ending you were getting anyway, big dick move, cause its an old movie and film is expensive, also that movie stupid and campy, ALSO I ONLY LEARNED MAKING THIS AU THAT IN ENGLISH THE GAME’S CALLED “CLUE” wE CALL IT CLUEDO therefore my wip playlist is called cluedo. because. fuck it.)(i just have an emotional attachment to that game i even had a cd rom video game version and it was the spookiest shit for a 6 years old, trust me, i played it so much tho i didnt even understand the rULES i was just making scenarios like gathering the characters in rooms n making conversations outloud cause honestly the banter is the best part of a murder mystery) ANYWAY that sure is a whole paragraph of tangent. 

BUT YE the inspo from the Clue game. you can tell it from the Colours obviously, everyone’s colour codded.(even everyone’s name is colours as well you’ll see it’s real dang fancy! im just remaking that game but with 2932020 characters and more behind the scenes drama and also for gay people.)

So BASIC PLOT!

Sir Belyy, the dude in white, is The Rich Powerful Respected Fancy Boss, and he throws a Fancy Reception Party with his closest friends and associates to celebrate the opening of a new branch of his business. All the lads gather in his wonderful little very isolated mansion in the middle of nowhere, like ok he got a death wish or something or he’s very trusting of his business partners, but not a good move, cause in the middle of the reception, as A Phat Storm Starts (for plot convenience, we going with a campy vibe if you couldnt tell), his body is found, it’s awful, there’s a killer on the loose! All the guests gather, and attempt to maybe contact the authorities, to not avail, since The Storm ya know, phone lines are Broken my dude. Its clear that the culprit is among them, since no one could have entered the house, or left it (cuz once again, ThE sTORm). And then it’s all about interrogating each other, distrust, alliances and betrayal, revealing one’s deepest secrets when they form an alibi and revealing someone else’s deepest secret for they could be a motive! Meanwhile there’s a dead body in the mansion just chillin there. 

.

So as I mentioned, I changed everyone’s name to be colour related (or ya know, food or flowers of that colour cause sometimes a colour in a language would not work as a name given the way names work in that culture all that jazz) which is the trippiest thing cause tHATS NOT YALLS USUAL NAMES but its fun (also changed so many ages hgfhs it was a trip)(still no one’s really old i guess i got boomerphobia). The “Cast” is clearly the most important part, and if ur a True “My OCs” Connaisseur (hdfghd the most useful skill to have, knowing *MY* Charactersdshgd) you may have recognised some faces and can already read some vibes and predict who will be progressing the plot and who will be yelling at people throwing accusations ghdfgd.

(god i wish i hadnt slacked off making the portraits of everyone in that AU i only have 3 tho that’s so sad so ill just make little sketches just cause <3 only text??? i got too many hoes with no attention span for that)

.

Sir BELYY (the one who dIEs lmao)

(bust shot missing the fact that this man is the tallest beefiest lad around)

Intimidating, powerful, composed, wealthy, carries the name of a family who has generations of control to it’s reputation, he’s The Man that hoes who believe in the economy wishes they were. As in, the “self made” man who only just happened to benefit from having a wealthy background to uplift his plans. In his youth, he wanted to prove his worth, seperated himself from his father, started a business, that business became big, then got attached to the family’s business, bam back to square one but with Reputation now. There seemed to be VERY big tension between him and The Father, some speculate it had to do with his unknown mother, and some family drama there, and it never got resolved as old man Belyy died quite young (the jUICY speculations are that current sir Belyy mURDEREd old man sir Belyy, fucked up if true!). People love him though in general, as he has that reputation of “Cold Lad With a Gold Heart” aka he takes people under his wings, donates, doesnt treat his employees like the absolute worst garbage etc... you know, he’s rich and a half decent person, so obviously he’s an angel on earth. But does it matter though, he’s dead! that’s the concept of the story!  

Mr.GRAY (the grey guest)(who could have guessed from the name)

He’s one of Sir Belyy’s oldest employees, and benefits from a high rank in the company. But, sadly for him, he’s been stagnating lately, as newer, youngest employees seem to have Belyy’s favours, and are his prefered associates for important tasks and positions. Therefore he has Some Bitterness, Some Salt, Some Distaste, some unbriddled but professionally muted hatred for Specific people in the company. He can be an antagonistic figure, but the amount of time he spent in Belyy’s circle grants him an immense quantity of information about the man, but mostly, about his business. Anything about the company’s history, dealings, operations, he’s aware of, either having been told of them, or having snooped around to obtain, immune to being questioned due to his legitimacy in the company.

Mr.LIM (the green guest)

Remember when it was said that Gray had beef with some employees cause they were younger and rose to high ranks faster than him and became Belyy’s favourite over him? Yeah well here comes the one he hates the most for that (ofc he’s belyys fave cuz he’s Mine <3) Our lad caught Belyy’s attention for his Exploits in like, em fancy high school tournaments of smart people, it’s a thing its ridiculous, making kids compete on Smart stuff for the pride of their schools n shit, well homie Lim got clout when doing that, and Belyy was extremely interested cause that kid’s main thing was how “this young lad got mad strategic skills tf are u a war general or smth how fancy”, and that’s a coveted skill for ruthless business. So as soon as the kid is an adult, bam, join the company my dude. And because he’s just that Cool n Sexy ofc he met the expectations Belyy had, and old man Belyy got attached cuz it do be such a young lad, a kid, mentally i am adopting. That’s how you get a youngas employee becoming the right hand man of one the phatest CEO in a few years, and even make your way into being a Good Lad on top of a business partner. And that’s how you get Gray to hate your ass too. Now though, fine lad with mad strategic skills, rising to power that fast, and even infiltrating Belyy’s private life? If I were Gray I’d call suspicion there’s surely some shady stuff going no way we’re just dealing with a nice fella who just happens to work good and be friendly to the boss right?

Herra MUSTA (the black “guest”)

Belyy’s newest butler, assistant, house keeper, he multitasks. His family has been tied to Belyy’s for generations, fullfilling roles of help, but also of confidents. He’s been the head butler since only a short time, after his mother passed, and as such is still “in training” you could say, despite having served the family his whole life. There are rumours going around that the contract tying his family to the Belyys may end on his generation and need to be resigned. He known the manor by heart, and carries all keys to any locked room (and mostly, The Master Key, cause in an old house, some doors may be locked beyond all still existing keys). He also knows secrets of the family that no one else knows, but good luck getting em out of him, he’s under contract not to divulge em bro.

Mr. HASSEL (the brown guest)

Belyy’s childhood friend. They grew up together, pictured their dreams together, sworn to flourish together, worked together when starting the company, and then Hassel felt he should create his own thing instead of depending on his friend’s existing wealth, and while Belyy’s business went wild, his never took off. They still stayed very close, despite the massive difference in wealth. Belyy considers him his closest friend, the one person he can trust (fucked if hassel did the murder lemme tell u). So of course, he’s still always invited to the Prestigious meet ups where’s he’s free to feel uncomfortably out of place amongst all the rich and powerful people that he could have been a part of had he had a tiny bit of luck and a small loan from a wealthy relative...People LOVE saying he’s still hanging out with Belyy so much to leech off his wealth, cause of course they do! His bestie status means he has a whole different brand of information of Belyy than his butler does, the Most Intimate Stuff, the Childhood Stuff. The Juicy stuff ya kno...But Bro Code, its all secrets...

Sir RUZH (the red “guest”)

Deep dive into Belyy’s personnal history, the man has many employees working at his house keeping it working, clean, ya know the vibe. They live on the premice, one has a kid who’s just a Joy to be around, all the employees just vibe with that lad, he’s just a born socialite you know? Belyy gets to meet the kid, and also hella vibes with him. And because human are influenced by their feelings, he gives the kid’s mum a bit of a preferencial treatment, in the tasks she fullfils and all, til he gives her an important-as mission, and then there’s an accident n mama dies, and now Belyy got guilt and there’s this kid who just Vibes. So naturally the move is to take the kid in, and play on how his vibes are just so clean, and raise him to be the Perfect Entertainer for guests, bam, its soft power propaganda, if everyone loves your now son’s vibes, they associate them with you too. And also that’s kind of a clean rep, the selfless man who adopted his employee’s son to not have him fall to the streets, how heartwarming. Not at all traumatising for the kid too I bet! But anyway now the lad is just the most charming young adult, mission accomplished. He’s always present at any reception, ready to work his people-pleasing magic, and then going back to a gigantic empty manor to wait for the next and curate the perfect vibes to meet the expectations of dad. On the plus side, he knows everyone, and those who don’t know him cannot wAIT to, he’s just got that aura ya know. People skills for miles, and the insider knowledge that comes with being the son of the CEO, all this hidden behind the personna of the fresh innocent bashful party lad. 

Dr.FEN (the pink guest)

Do not get mistaken by the title, he’s no doc, he will not diagnose you with anything, he just studied long enough to get the sexy title. Study in what? Haha. Nothing shady. Just toxicology. He’s a world reknown poison expert basically, that’s his main thing. Oh but don’t worry, of course studying substances that may kill people is only for finding out how to cure them from it of course. What brings him in this circle? Simple, Belyy may or may not have started to suffer some weird illness that no doctor has been able to find the source, let alone cure, of. Him and Dr.Fen had met previously on some event, cause some rich man also love flexing how smart they are and attending sciencey shit, and he was contacted as sort of a shot in the dark. The lad does know how to treat some things, maybe he can treat The Mysterious Unwellness, since no traditional doctor was able to. He knows science, he’s trustworthy, bam, you’re hired to work on My Case Exclusively. Thanks to this, Dr.Fen has access to the whole health history of Belyy and his family, to many mANY dangerous substances, and also has The Respect of the hoes at the party. He HAS a doctorate after all. Epitome of knowledge. And he’s a kind to people and he wears pink like dang how can you nOT pour your wHOLE trust in him. 

Sir MOREVITCH (the blue guest)

Youngest son of an affluent family, who used to be close the the Belyys. The two families fell slightly appart after the death of the previous head of the family on the Belyy side, as they do nOT vibe with the current one (well current, til the first night of the story ig). But, unbeknownst to all, one strong link had been kept, between the youngest of the Morevitch, who dislikes his family and wishes to emancipate himself from them while also assuring his depart will not throw him basically in the streets, and our beloved Sir Belyy, who also dislikes the Morevitches but loves to see the rebellious energy of the young one (and ya know, my enemy’s enemy’s my friend or however you say that). So Belyy’s basically offering tips and helping Morevitch plant himself safely out of his family’s grasp, but it’s all taking quite some time isn’t it, slow and steady is fine until your parents try to arrange a wedding to secure more political power, and suddenly it is all quite urgent that you escape that situation because No Thank You Parents I Do Not Want A Wife I’m Too Young And Also Huh <3 Stuff You Won’t Like Hearing For Sure <3. The people who know they’re working together also know that it’s a big point of argument between them, the difference in vision between “you have to go slow and steady to be safe” and “I have very limited time to get to that safety anyway so I gotta risk it” “hell no you cant i can’t follow through if we’re going that quick that’ll put me at risk and you’re family’s gonna send gunmen to take me down”. A mess, it’d be much quicker to just obtain a few million bucks out of nowhere and bolt for sure...

Mr.GANG (the orange guest)

Morevitch’s trusted assistant. He hears the concerns, he helps the secret businesses, he lies to the parents about the whereabouts, and mostly, he’s basically a budget spy. The lad got that talent where people just don’t notice him popping behind them and catching all their dirty laundry as they confess it to someone they trust, and he always manages to break into places, get the intel he was looking for, and escape, putting everything back into place as if no one was ever there (wonder where he got all those skills from damn!). But what he’s even better at is being sneaky not only to benefit his boss, but himself as well <3. If he can catch all the info in the world, go any places, nothing’s stopping him from playing double agent and also going behind Morevitch’s back. After all the assistant life isn’t the most glamourous and rewarding, who can blame him from going and using his talents to build his own little exit route, right? Everybody sort of knows he cannot be trusted, but also no one managed to really incriminate or stop him, and as much as he has tea on many people, no has it on him, but bet once found that would be heeeella juicy.

M.MOUTARDE (the yellow guest)(this one is straight up the name of the yellow player in the french edition of clue too when i say its my main vibe)

Moutarde was an influential celebrity. He had a big break acting in a movie that the whole country stanned so hard they basically turned the script into their national anthem (they would have if it was a true democracy where the people really decide), he was so handsome and elegant, everyone’s dream husband. And then the fame fiddled out because it’s how fame is, one moment you’re the sexiest dish on the table and the next someone brings in dessert and baam, its all about that fresh cake, and no one pays any mind to your delightful aroma anymore, you’ve gone cold, they had a bite, their interest is somewhere else. Belyy really admires his work though, and mostly finds his image fits with the brand of his company, therefore the two are working on a collaboration to make Moutarde a representative. This WOULD boost Moutarde’s reputation, for his ads would be displayed on every imaginable surface of the country, and it would also benefit the company cause being represented by thAT sexy motherfucker? clearly that’s a deal. The freshness of the partnership means Moutarde is a newcomer in the guests, a fresh face, with no reputation, no relationships, no unfair biases against him. He’s just the new handsome charismatic lad with a squeaky clean image. Emphasis on “image”. After all, no one really knows anything of his background, right?

Kun.LAWENDER (the purple guest)

Private investigator, very useful to be around at a party it’s almost like it was expected there’d be a body to investigate, he’s a very close associate of Belyy, as there’s nothing more important to business than investigating the rivals and finding dirt on them to make them fall through infamy. He’s not exactly the PI who goes look for justice to be served, he’s just here for cash bro. He’s got intel on everyone, and will only let it out if offered the right thing in return (money, or sometimes other pieces of very secret intel, trade is good). Wouldn’t advise letting him and Gang team up tbh but they probably wouldnt, as Lawender is really more of a lone wolf player, going on his own for himself. The one thing that negates his usefulness as a PI on an accidental crime of scene is that even if he knew the whole truth of the event he would not spit it out unless he benefitted from saying it. He sure is a polarising lad, but at the same time, an untouchable one, he’s too knowledgeable to be taken down. Rather than sneaky, he’s extremely observant, noticing the tiniest details and engraving them in his memory, ready to be linked up to other details to deduct the big picture. He’s the upfront tea gathered basically (as opposed to Gang’s shadow tea gathering if you will, they are similar forces but using opposite methods)(also one of em got a licence n the other does not hAH).

~~~~

Now the secrets, all of em have them. One of em at least got the secret of having KILLED Belyy that’s that. But that’s to be kept for later (for if i ever use this story for more than daydream material gfhjgh) bet you can imagine what some of em may be just out of Knowing what i do, from having seen the characters in other contexts, or just because you’re a genius and reading the character profiles immediatly lit up the bulbs in your head forming the perfect theory, props to you, mad genius.

Honestly my thoughts are just how lit of a game that would be, you get to pick one hoe (maybe sum are locked til u find their secrets for juicy purposes) and you do your invetigation using your character’s perks and disadvantages, and maybe there could even be Multiple scenarios and outcomes, to spice it up, give replay value, i just think it’d be a game id spend hours on. tryin to get the spicy details of everyone’s life. walking around n digging through a rich man’s stuff, witnessing the drAMA of people fighting cause they’re locked in with a murderer and that’s stressful ngl. That or a long ass show @ netflix wanna give me a show maybe? give me hella budget we’re making it animated cause im too cultured for live action. 

whatever i make of it though, i hope i can make this story Flourish, just so that i can lay down all those secret backstories i’ve written. i want the satisfaction of throwing out the craziest secret drama between character n seeing peeps loose their minds, it just is a tasty experience.

also i gotta say, i plug the hell out of Clue for an inspo but when i was building the basics of the story my mind immediatly went “oH MY GOD THE VIBES,, THE BACKSTABBING AND tEAMING UP and all,,, its The Genius, that one tv show where peeps have to do the wildest games that require strategy n they’re in that fancy set that looks like a rich ppl mansion oh god the vibes” so yeah, i rewatched the whole first two seasons cause they’re my faves and that had an impact if only minimal in the aesthetic.

Anyway hope that quick presentation gave you a lil taste of the story, and maybe,,,, got you curious,,, craving to learn more like you never did before (im exaggerating the only real question we all got is just “so who’s fuckin with whom then how many of yall secretly dating” this the real deal)

[zoey-wades]

Honeymoon (King Liam x MC)

Rating: M (Drug Use, Substance Abuse, Violence, Self-Inflicted Violence)

Characters: Dark!Liam Rys x Dark!Lyra Frasier (MC) x Dark!Drake Walker

Summary: Fresh out of school and trying to figure things out, Lyra Frasier spends her weekdays going to a job she hates and her weekends in a drug fueled haze. And then she meets golden boy Liam. Lyra soon realizes that the violent underbelly of New York City’s elite may be more than she can handle.

Author’s Note: I haven’t updated this thing since uh......last year? I’m bad at making a writing schedule for myself. I think, the way TRR has been going as a series, I just haven’t had the motivation. But when I separate this world from that one, it helps a bit more. 

Honeymoon Series

ooo. Prologue.

oo1. Honeymoon.

oo2. Midnight City.

--x-- 

oo3. C.R.E.A.M. 

It was bad enough that Liam’s father was ill; he also had to be stubborn as fuck.

Liam winced as his ailing father lifted the shaking glass of whiskey to his lips, determined to keep drinking despite what the doctor and his wife told him about the effects on his body. Liam cleared his throat, earning a single passive glance from his father across the desk. 

“Oh come on,” Constantine groaned, licking the droplets of liquor from his chin, “Not you, too. I don’t need anymore shit about what I do in my free time.” 

Unwilling to take advice from those he deemed inexperienced, Constantine was an unwavering force in a world of deeply complicated decisions. Liam patiently rested his folded hands in his lap, training his expression to convey as much stoicism as he could in the given circumstance.

“You don’t seem to understand that this,” he motioned towards the glass, “is the reason why Sebastian Clark was able to fly under your radar for so long? What would’ve happened if Walker and I hadn’t figured him out? Who knows what he could’ve gotten away with--” 

“That rotten, coked out fucker,” Constantine spat with a wave of the hand, “Good riddance. I didn’t need him poisoning my ranks with his bullshit.” 

“That’s what I’m trying to explain,” Liam leaned forward in his seat, speaking slowly to emphasize his next point, “We don’t know that he hasn’t. And the fact that he was in your ranks for as long as he had should be worrisome. Who knows what else is going on that we don’t know about.”

“My men are loyal to me,” Constantine stated plainly, “One bad apple doesn’t always spoil the lot.”

At the age of 67, he’d been away from the action for quite some time. Evidence of a hard youth decorated his face and body in the form of scars and bones that didn’t quite heal correctly. Liam couldn’t remember a time when his father didn’t look tired. If he hadn’t seen a photo of a young Constantine with his own eyes, he’d believe the man just came into this world with a shock of white hair and bloodshot eyes. His stepmother half-joked that Liam’s older brother, Leo, caused their father to gray prematurely with his gambling and sex addictions.

On the other hand, Leo had to get it from somewhere.

Liam watched his father struggle to take another sip from his glass before averting his gaze to a family photo on his father’s desk. Teenage Justin and Liam sat side-by-side, unsmiling, with neatly pressed suits on in front of their equally serious fathers. Why Constantine kept that particular photo on his desk, Liam never understood. Nothing about it exuded warmth. 

“Did Justin ever talk about a girl around you?” Liam suddenly asked, refocusing on his father who swirled his whiskey in deep thought. 

“A girl?” He repeated in thought, “Once or twice. Usually he was asking advice on how to keep them tamed, you know?” 

Constantine attempted a conspiratorial smile that Liam didn’t reciprocate. 

“Did he mention any specific names?” Liam pressed on, “Or descriptors?” 

Constantine raised a brow and sat the sweating glass on a wooden coaster, “What is this about?”

What was this about? Liam wasn’t entirely sure. There was something about the girl, Lyra, that intrigued him. How was she able to dip in and out of their world so easily without leaving any footprints behind? Who did she know? 

After dropping her off back home the previous afternoon, Liam did some quick research into who she was. Aside from a few high school choir competition press reels, she was an otherwise ordinary woman. 

“Well I...” Liam chose his words carefully, “ran into Justin at the bar, talking to a girl. You know we never really see him with anyone. So I was just curious.”

There was a brief pause between the two men, and the grin returned to Constantine’s face, “A hot piece of ass, huh? Thinking of getting in there?” 

Liam said nothing, but fidgeted with the rings on his fingers. His father wasn’t technically wrong. But god damn if the wording didn’t make him feel like the grossest piece of shit. 

He decided to drop the subject for another time.

“Sorry to push us off topic, Dad,” Liam quickly corrected, “But, back to my original point...how do you know for sure Clark was the only shady one in the group?” 

Constantine considered this, tapping his pen on the wooden desktop, “What reason would I give them to turn their backs on me? I’ve been with these men for well over 30 years, I fed them,” he counted on his fingers, “clothed them, put their kids through school, made them dukes in their own respects. They made their names on my back, and they think they’re gonna fuck me over!” 

The sudden exclamation caused the man to cough violently into his arm and then into a handkerchief. Liam instinctively jumped to his feet, and rushed across the room to fetch a glass of water for his father. 

“I’m fine!” Constantine croaked, attempting to catch his breath, “I just got a bit overexcited.” 

Despite his protests, Constantine took the glass and sipped from it slowly. It hurt Liam to see his father deteriorating so quickly. A part of him felt like Constantine believed himself to be invincible. A smaller part of Liam felt like his father was simply just giving up. He had to put on an air of confidence, as he was at the top of the pyramid and could not show weakness. But as he grew older, cracks in the foundation began to form. Cracks that Liam had been working to seal. 

Liam loved his father. There was no doubt about that. But every day the work grew more difficult. Liam could almost envision the empire crumbling at his father’s feet, all because he was too stubborn to fix the loose bricks. 

As if reading his mind, Constantine sat the glass down and looked over his son, “You do know that I love you, right, kiddo?” 

There was a faraway look in his eyes, a look Liam saw once in a while. And he always wondered where Constantine went when that happened. 

“Yeah, I know, dad.”

Sadness darkened his father’s features, “Despite the issues that your mother and I had,” he cleared his throat, “I did love her. And I think you were the best thing that ever happened to me. I’m always going to be proud of you.” 

A pit formed in Liam’s stomach and he reached across to grab his father’s hand, “Hey, what are you not telling me?” 

And just like that, Constantine switched the darkness off, a confident grin returning to his face. It didn’t reach his eyes. 

“A man can’t tell his kid he appreciates him, anymore? Lighten up, Liam.” 

--x--

Liam sat in the garage of his apartment building to smoke and attempt at shuffling through his thoughts. Maybe it was counterproductive. An hour after leaving Constantine’s office, Liam learned of another potential fuck up in his father’s ranks. Someone was making trade deals on the low, and informing a rival company of some arms delivery pick up spots before they arrived for a cut of the profit. He passed the message along to Drake, who responded with the same concerns regarding Constantine’s failing leadership. 

Liam was only one man. Though he was sure he didn’t feel an ounce of the pressure his father did, the stress he felt nearly crippled him sometimes. He briefly allowed his mind to wander to Lyra and what she was doing. Did she know how much he envied her life? She didn’t answer to anyone, she could leave the city if she wanted to, she never had to constantly look over her shoulder. Lyra carried herself with the air of freedom he could only dream about. Clutching his phone in tatted knuckles, he almost considered texting her. But truly, what would he even say? 

“Hey, I know we only spoke once and you gave me your number because you wanted to pay me back for the gas (which you still don’t have to do). But what does freedom feel like?” 

Right now, Liam imagined she was laying across the secondhand sofa in some old college sweatshirt, watching YouTube, her mind a thousand miles away from him. He’d never even seen her apartment. But he had a feeling she had a lot of plants and a collection of decorated whiskey bottles on her kitchen counter. She seemed like the type. He caught himself chuckling at the thought and frowned. Ideally, he’d just let her go. He could never bring her into this world, she was too good for it. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that he could grow to like her. 

The shrill ring of his phone cut through his thoughts, sharply pulling him from a moment of escapism he didn’t even know he needed. 

“Hello?” Liam answered, attempting to mask his disappointment. 

“Idon’tknowwhathappened! Idon’tknow!” A shrill voice cried on the other end between sobs. Liam pulled the phone from his face, and realized it was his father’s assistant, Penelope, calling from an unknown number. Alarm bells went off in Liam’s head, and he turned the ignition in his car. 

“Pen, what happened?” He asked, sitting up in his seat. 

“I just came in and he was....! I don’t know what happened, Liam! I was gone for an hour!”

“What. Happened?” Liam asked, again. His heart began to thud in his ears, and he gripped the steering wheel, “Just fucking tell me. Spit it out-”

“Constantine shot himself!”

[smolbeandrabbles]

Protector - Director Orson Krennic x Reader 3 (Rogue One)

Gif Credit: X

I Think He Knows (Part 1) / Hero (Part 2)

Author’s Note:  Just when you thought they were gonna get away with this...

Part 3 of this series that has come from the brilliant mind of @purebloodwitch​ ❤

I got you your angst and drama this time 😉😉

She also introduced me to this song Protector - City Wolf and quite honestly if it isn’t the theme, not just for this series, but for this couple then I don’t know what is! Give it a listen, it’s a truly excellent track! 👌🎉

* I spelled Scarif correct this time-!

Disclaimer: Rogue One characters not mine / lyrics not mine / gifs not mine / I’m sure I take liberties with the SW universe... but here we are!

Premise: In the aftermath of your actions on Scarif, you are reprimanded and grounded until further notice. The Empire need you, however - and are about to make you an offer they think you can’t refuse...

Words: 6762

Warnings: Swearing / angst/hurt 

______ You don't have to be alone all by yourself Tired of doing things just to save your mental health You made a wish and then you lost it down the wishing well But when you're with me There's no need to be So tell me is there somewhere else that you wanna go? Cause you've been running round in circles, stuck in slow-mo I've got that feeling that you really wanna hit the door If you've lost the fight Then let's win the war When you're tired of hiding And you've gotta run, hop right in Sit shotgun, I'm driving I'll be your protector Who's gonna be there when Everything is tumbling down? Who's gonna be there when You fall to keep you off of the ground? I'll be your shelter They'll never get ya So stay with me and I'll be your protector No it ain't easy to survive up in these city streets Lookin' for someone to help you when you scrape your knees Takin' too many punches, now it's getting hard to breathe I'll be your reason so you can believe Are you waiting for someone? Just hold on, here I come To fix when you're undone You're standing on the edge now, stay close I'm going twelve rounds, ready for another dose Steel chin, and a fist made of metal Look at my face, serious as a heart attack Comin' in your corner, shades on, dressed in black I'll be your shelter They'll never get ya So stay with me and I'll be your protector ---

News of the aftermath of your involvement with the battle over Scarif reached the upper echelons of the Empire a little slower than you expected. That or they had to deliberate a long time on it. Funnily enough the rumours swelled first and a lot of the lower ranked officers now liked staring at you in awe. “Is she the one that decked Tarkin-!?” “She’s got balls-! Damn-!”

That joy didn’t last too long though. And you eventually got called into your commanding officers office and reprimanded. (Although apparently his personal opinion was good on you) However, his opinion didn’t count for much and they grounded you until further notice. When you politely enquired as to how long that would be, no one could tell you, or refused to entertain the question.

Tully was right though; they didn’t take your ship away or demote you. They’d need you in this war with the Rebellion and would probably spring something on you without a moments warning. Which meant although you were grounded, your ship was still out there in space - Jerod at the helm until you came back. You supposed you were lucky they didn’t give her to someone else - but wondered, with the way you’d built up your crew, how many would mutiny at the very idea of someone else as their captain.

Krennic now has some spare time on his hands and was trying to gather his reputation again. Now he found his project load a lot quieter, they had him running some mundane intelligence missions. Which meant you found him hanging around Coruscant a lot, drawing. Often when you were running back and forth between military briefings. Because grounded you may have been, but in the know you still were. Which was great, because he’d always be waiting in just the right place, and you could give him updates. Although the first couple of times he did it Krennic did manage to startle you, until you caught on: “Are you following me-!?” “Knowing where you are at all times is my job.” “The Bureau has you tailing me-!?” “No...” he tipped his head “I just figure you’re going to be the one who has the vital information on  what I’ve been asked to do - therefore, who better to tail?” He had a point you supposed; but his stalking meant that sometimes you got to admire his architectural sketches and it was one of your favourite parts of the day. If you had time you liked to sit and ask what he was working on. Perhaps gather some intelligence of your own that you could take into your next meeting, and of course, give him a kiss on the cheek before you hurried off that Orson so thoroughly deserved.

 ***

Eventually you started receiving offers for work elsewhere. Though you weren’t looking to be anywhere but back on The Resolution right now. And then, one evening you got an offer that was far more interesting, pinged into your inbox. ‘Y/N, I am under the impression that you dislike being grounded. As I have been notified that you are consistently requesting a timeframe on the ending of this. There is a way around staying here, and it’s fairly simple. Grand Moff Tarkin will be on Coruscant in the coming days for final preparations in the efforts against the rebellion. Meet me tomorrow and we can discuss arranging a briefing with him. Further details to follow.’

 Of course the first thing you did was alert your intelligence beau to the meeting time and place. For one, it seemed awfully shady - even if it was going to get you in the sky again - and you didn’t really want to turn up to a meeting like this without backup. When you walked cautiously into the government building, Krennic was already there - leaning so casually against an inlying colonnade he almost blended in.  You paid each other no mind as you continued to walk through into the main hallway. It appeared deserted; save for the single person you knew you were here to meet. “General L/N.” You held you hand out to shake with a smile; “Baryon, I hear you can get me off the ground again.” “Indeed I can - if you’re ready?” You laughed, politely, “Far more than ready. If only you’d presented the solution earlier-!” He smiled, but it was thin, and lacked warmth. Immediately you were on high guard, you didn’t like where this could go; “Yes.” When he offered no more conversation, you prompted; “I believe your email message told me it was simple...?��� “Very. If you would be inclined to apologise to Tarkin.” You very nearly scoffed, but decided you might be able to swallow your pride on that one to get your crew back. “Oh. Yeah, that doesn’t sound so hard. Forgive and forget and all that.” You hoped you didn’t sound as sarcastic as you seemed “Yes,” he nodded, “There is one other, small thing...” This was where it started becoming less easy, you decided. “Go ahead.” “The Death Star plans.” Ah, shit, here we go... “What of them?” You feigned ignorance. “Well it’s no secret that you and Director Krennic are close.” You didn’t exactly appreciate the way Baryon decided to say it either, causing your response to sound affronted. “Correct.” “Well. Then you must have access, or at least know a way to gain access to his files?” You folded your arms, “Mhm.” In fact, you knew all of Krennic’s passwords and where he stored all his backup drives too, but you weren’t about to tell this man that “You could say that.” “Then this should be easy for you.” He spread his hands as if it was all so obvious. “You haven’t told me what I’m supposed to do, yet.” “It’s simple. We need the plans, Krennic has them - you’re our in.” You blinked a couple of times, “Sorry... let me get this straight... you would like me to steal the Death Star plans, for you-!? After someone – the Rebellion, I might add! - just attempted the same thing on Scarif!?” “Steal? He’ll simply give them to you.” You’d have laughed the guy out of the building right then and there if you didn’t think this information intriguing. Krennic wouldn’t let you touch any of that unless it was over his dead body. Especially not now. “What if he says no?” “Someone with as much insight into the Director as you must have a way... Charm him.” Sleep with him to get the plans? Was that what they were really suggesting? You bit your lips together; Well. Looks like I’m still grounded. “What if I refuse?” “Then you won’t get back to your beloved Resolution.” You tipped your head, pretending for a moment that it was a hard choice. At least Jerod was in charge. But there was no way in hell that you could do that to Krennic. Not after all this. “I’m sorry. I can’t do what you’re asking of me.” Baryon’s face fell for a second before he tried again, “If you will not charm him - force him. You can give it up now, Krennic’s next to worthless...” He gave a shrug “and when you give us those plans, he’ll be even more so.” Your eyes narrowed; “Give what up?” “The front.” “What front?” “The relationship.” Suddenly the Empire’s angle on your relationship came into focus, and your relatively stoic nonchalance for the whole situation became a hard glare – and you put all your agitation into your words; “I ask again - What. Front.” “Ah, God. You’re not actually in love with him-!?” You measured him up for half a second, deciding he was serious; “Fuck you. This conversation is over.” “General-!” You wheeled around from the walk away you’d already begun, deciding to correct him first; “High General. You thinking I’d give the plans up was laughable, before what you just said. Don’t you ever contact me again.” Baryon sighed, and none too gently; “The next person that comes for them won’t be half as nice...” You scoffed, opting to return to your walk away before answering back; “Let them come. My answer will be the same-!!”

Your mind was reeling. Was that the only way back-!? Giving up everything your partner had worked so hard for to the other side? All that research!!? They had the weapon, and had stolen that from him too, what the hell did they want with the rest of it? To take everything about his greatest achievement away so he couldn’t use it? Well then they’d want all the backups too, wouldn’t they? They’d have to know he made copies. Someone would certainly know, who could casually drop it into conversation – and you wouldn’t put it passed anyone who wanted to climb the ladder by pushing someone else off it. They’d want him to destroy all his copies? Maybe they wondered what could be on them that the rebels would want? Maybe they just couldn’t work the damn thing without him and we’re too stubborn to admit it.

You slowed only when you approached the colonnades again, knowing he would still be there.  And would have heard every word. Your eyes darted to both sides searching for him and eventually Krennic had to clear his throat to get your attention. You checked you weren’t being followed before you strolled over to him; “Can you believe this shit-!?” “Yes. To be honest.” Orson leant his head back to gaze at the ceiling “Thank God you said no!” “You know what they’re trying to do right!?” “Use us against one another...” He mused, “luckily I can trust you and know it won’t work. But this time it’s personal – and they are out for blood, clear as day.” “Well what have intelligence asked you for-!?” “Checking in on all your movements, they know what happened on Scarif, Y/N - they want to know your reasons.” “Are you telling me they think I’m working with the rebels-!?” “I didn’t say that.” Though the look on his face gave his true answer “FUCK-!” You thought twice about punching the stone; “What is this!?” “Easy. They want you back up there and me with nothing. But I already cleared you, so, that’s probably why he sent you the message in the first place. Doesn’t mean I won’t be keeping an eye on you.” “Orson...” You shook your head, “Babe, you know I would never...” “Of course I do. Don’t worry about it. But they’ll want me to relay this conversation. Byron might even report back that you were on the verge of agreement...” Krennic tipped his head, “One thing is clear they want us apart,” he pointed behind him, “this has all come from Tarkin, Make no mistake...” You breathed out gently, in agreement “Yeah. I know that. I do know that...”

 *** The agent was right – he wasn’t the only one who tried to solicit you with promises of getting back into space if you only handed over the Death Star documents. Most of the time they got a snarky reply back like; Well if Tarkin hadn’t destroyed Scarif there would be plans there-! And by the fifth time, when they got a little more urgent and a lot less polite about it – you were getting sick of repeating yourself. “Do you actually have copies of all your work just lying around?” Krennic paused his stroll across the living room and turned back to you cautiously; “…Why?” “Well this would be simpler if there weren’t any.” He looked momentarily horrified – “You know damn well how long that research took me! Took US! Everyone that worked on this project – that’s ALL we have left. My copies.” You held your hands up defensively, hoping he didn’t think that it would cross your mind even once to deliver the Empire those copies. For one, you thought they ought to be coming to him for them. Why weren’t they, was a more interesting question. Maybe they just wanted to see how far they could push your relationship – they’d be sorry they ever did. “…I’m just thinking that if they were somewhere I didn’t know about, we’d be safer?” He inclined his head slightly, piercing blue eyes squinting at you; “We’d?” “…We’ve both been thinking it Orson, this is about FAR more than just the plans. And I’m-” Scared? Worried? Upset? Angry? All of the above? You swallowed and opted not to continue. Krennic strode back to you slowly, holding his hand out to take yours; “Darling, we’ll be fine… But if it would make you feel better, I can move all my research somewhere safer – that you won’t have access to. Therefore when they enquire, you really won’t know.” You used his outstretched hand to pull yourself up and into his arms; “Babe, I’m just-” you buried your face into his shoulder and mumbled it; “I don’t know what’s going on.” He kissed your hair softly, his own voice quiet and thoughtful; “I’ll look into it, okay? Someone in the Bureau must know what’s going on. Be careful, I don’t like it either. Not when it’s this persistent.” You pulled away from him – voice suddenly commanding; “Hide those plans, Director.” Orson smiled gently at the dead serious look on your face, “Yes M’am.”

 So he did so – and you had no idea where. Before you knew it his digging around in intelligence had him exploring leads off planet, and upon your instruction to follow them, Krennic had to kiss you goodbye. “Just, keep me updated. Discreetly.” “Of course. You be careful down here. And if they do call you back, well, obviously I want to be the first to congratulate you…” He smirked over the word congratulate and you shook your head, “Well you better be ready to get your new ship over to mine then.” “Ah-! You heard!” He grinned. Of course you knew – people within engineering had already complained loudly enough before, when he’d had the first ship built. After it’d been ruined on Scarif, Krennic needed a new one – but he wanted an upgraded version, faster, lighter, sleeker. And you had heard the screaming from your office: “HE WANTS WHAT-!? I’M NOT BUILDING THAT OBSOLETE MODEL FOR A SECOND TIME!!!” And had simply chuckled into your coffee. It had been built though, but you hadn’t seen it yet. “It’s faster than the old one, I’d be with you in no time.” “Good…” You couldn’t help but smirk back, and brush your lips to his one more time; “Then you can get that ass of yours in my bed.”

*** It was hard being away from him, considering you’d both had to be here for so long and by now you’d grown used to his company. But it got interesting when the Resolution got pulled into docking. With Krennic updating you as often as he could, you were happy to tell him that you got to see your ship again. Jerod was there to receive you, looking pretty good in his command uniform, as you sprinted down the dock ramps to him. “What did you do to my ship-!?” “Nothing, General, she’s fine!!” “Fine, my ass--!” You reigned yourself into a walk, and then slowed to a halt in front of him, cheerful smile on your face “What are you doing in dock?” “To be honest we don’t know.” He gave a genuine shrug; “We thought you might be able to fill us in.” You folded your arms, “I’ve heard nothing. Been bribed plenty. I hope they don’t think that because Orson’s off planet I’ll cave. But seeing her…” You traced your eyes over the hull of the Resolution with a smile, she was gorgeous, and you missed being her captain terribly. But you refused to give up the work of the man you loved so much to be aboard her again. Your heart could yearn this as much as it wanted – it would have a harder time betraying him, and yearning for a love it had lost for itself. You shook your head as several unfathomable emotions coursed through you, and you pursed your lips. You weren’t sure the right way to finish that sentence either. “Maybe they’re going to give her back to you.” “Ha.” You scoffed, and highly doubted it. But then maybe Tully was right – maybe they really couldn’t do this without you. Maybe they had finally given up. “Perhaps. I guess I’ll wait that one out.” You turned your eyes on him, and then decided to grin; “…In the meantime, thank you for looking after her Jerod.” “Oh!” His smile was bashful and he bowed to your rank, “You’re very welcome. It’s been a pleasure.” *** You read the title of the email twice. Wine glass half way to your lips – although you’d quite forgotten about it. Everything was suddenly frozen in time. And the chimes coming from your datapad to alert you to other incoming messages and documents couldn’t draw your attention from those words. “For the Urgent Attention of High General F/N L/N.” it appeared to have no sender, and it wasn’t even the urgent that grabbed you, you’d seen people pull shit like that all the time in the clamour to catch the attention of a busy General such as yourself. It was the next part that had you; “Presence Requested on Mustafar.” No one ever got called there, not for anything good. And the one time Krennic went it hadn’t exactly been his finest hour. But you?!  What exactly had you done that warranted an audience with Vader? You swallowed hard. Now you were really in trouble. And you knew even dating someone in intelligence couldn’t save you.

 You threw the email to Orson just in case – asking him what the hell he thought was up. Krennic came back barely a second later imploring you to go, but that he had no idea. And neither did he respond with any further information than that, suggesting that he’d come to a dead end. Or there was something more worthy of his time, considering what he was actually off planet for. You made a stop off to the Intelligence Bureau one last time, because there was only one other man you trusted in that entire organisation. But he already knew you were coming. ‘Y/N I can’t help you’ ‘So you know?!’ ‘It’s out of my hands’ ‘You DO know!’ ‘Perhaps, but on my head be it should I disclose it to anyone. Go, for the sake of everything you have ever worked for, and tell the truth. They’ll understand. And between you and I, Tarkin deserved to be put in his place after Scarif – I lost a few good friends out there. Make sure you go to that meeting and do it again…’ *** So that’s how you ended up on your shuttle out across the Galaxy towards Mustafar now. Due to the grounding of the Resolution, Jerod was the one in the pilot seat. And although you spend the majority of your journey sitting chewing your lip and running your big speech over in your mind, you were glad of friendly company. He only offered small talk on a few occasions, when he thought you might want a pause from overthinking. You were happy to provide it and it was a welcome respite – but you couldn’t stop yourself pondering this. As long as it wasn’t for your alleged scheming with the rebels – or whatever rumour was going around, you thought you’d probably be fine. If it was, you might find yourself reprimanded even further for screaming about how ludicrous it was.

All of that was thrown out the window about 3 minutes before you landed, because as Jerod slowed your jets for the landing strip – a second cruiser was visible in the heat haze – slick black-on-black against the red and amber glowing fire of sluggish molten rock.   “Is that Krennic’s?” You wished he hadn’t voiced it. “Yeah.” Your reply was quiet; it looked brand new, polished to within an inch of its life and just out of the factory. A close resemblance to the last one, but sleeker and sharper. You pitied it having to stand here in heat like this so soon. “Did he tell you he was coming?” “No.” Which hurt more than just a little, if he was called here why wouldn’t he tell you? You had told him; but perhaps Orson didn’t want to add to your anxiety. Or perhaps he’d come to your aid – to back up your story. You wondered if that would at all be welcomed. “Shut the engines off, but stay here. And stay cool – this shouldn’t take too long.” “Yes M’am.” You patted his shoulder as you rose from your seat, taking a deep breath before swallowing hard. Jerod caught your wrist; “Y/N.” You turned back to him, “Be careful.” “I will. You too.” Though you weren’t exactly sure why you were saying that. But, you reminded yourself, you weren’t to trust anyone in the Empire these days. You hurried down the ramp from your ship and were too inquisitive in the new look of his not to wander over and inspect. It was beautiful and classic, if obsolete. You stared up at the wings, the way the red reflected off them; harsh the light might have been, but the engineering was stunning. You slowed your pace, still staring at it – it was larger, but you reckoned that was because it had bigger engines and more power. But it was cut more economically, and though you thought you’d be asking for a death wish suggesting the old model was anything less than perfect, this one looked a lot less clunky. And you would bet it didn’t make that annoying whirring noise as it cut through the air.

You turned back to the walkway leading up into the fortress and took another deep breath. It wasn’t a long way to walk, but you bet already it’d be the longest of your life. You could already see a figure waiting for you at the top ready to lead you to god knows where.  You knew it wasn’t Krennic, he’d already be sprinting back down towards you if that was the case. You straightened yourself and began your march – time to be as professional and presentable as possible. Except you had to loosen your collar just slightly, damn this place for being so stiflingly hot it was nearly insufferable. How the hell Orson dare come back in the uniform he insisted on wearing was beyond you; how did he stand it? Mind you, Krennic would suffer for the aesthetic. When you reached the figure, an older man huddled in a black cloak – he stooped slightly in what you presumed was a bow - “High General F/N L/N. We have been expecting you. Please, follow me.” We!? Oh, you didn’t like this one bit. You didn’t think it would help in this situation, and you weren’t the quickest draw, but you still checked your blaster was on your hip – it made you feel just a little safe. Against Lord Vader, Y/N? You’ll be dead before you can even reach for it! You scowled at yourself; Not Helpful! You followed him down a series of passages, and realised you must be getting closer to the core of the planet… or volcano… where else could you possibly be led? Strangely enough, it wasn’t as warm here – and you wondered what exactly caused the temperature to drop. If it was a cooling instillation you were going to need that number just to give props to them. Eventually your guide stopped, and pulled to one side, holding his arm out to present yet another ramp. He stooped again; “Lord Vader awaits your presence.” Even though “Thank you.” came out of your mouth, what you were really thinking was Oh. Shit.  

*** You’d only taken two steps down but already had forgotten most of the things that you’d set out to say. Indeed, he was waiting at the other end of a circular platform – already you were beginning to feel uneasy. You weren’t even the tiniest bit force sensitive, but you didn’t think there was anyone in the Galaxy that couldn’t feel that aura. He was alone on the platform save for an odd looking bundle to one side, that you noticed but deemed irrelevant enough to ignore. You hoped more than anything that your fight or flight response would allow you to stand your ground, and argue your case, rather than back down and shy away from any conflict. You wanted your ship back – but you would not give Krennic or his work up to be there. And you’d given him your word. You kept your eyes on Vader, aware of the beads of sweat gathering on your forehead, and trickling down the side of your face. And you weren’t even sure that was the apparent heat. Annoyingly all that was filling your head was a million ways to die. You glanced down at the lava running below you and swallowed thickly again. God Damn… You raised your eyes again - You can do this. If Krennic can get out of here, then you can. You were about five steps away from the platform now – and were figuring out that etiquette was probably to let him speak first. Only the bundle you were so intent on ignoring moved at precisely the wrong second. You stumbled your last two steps – eyes wide, horrified, if you hadn’t simultaneously lost the ability to breathe, let alone speak, then you probably would have yelled something. There was only one reason that he’d been left on the platform. That wasn’t just a warning but a display. Krennic wasn’t dead, and – man that he was – probably didn’t even wish it. But that pristine white uniform was nearly dyed red. The only cuts you could see were the ones visibly across his face and anything that had cut through his uniform – he couldn’t even stay on his hands and knees properly, and his arms shook with the effort. You were frozen – not because you didn’t want to sprint across the platform to him, but in that doing so would prove the point. You stood up straight, fighting every urge in you to scream, or run, or cry. To get you both through this – you could do none of those things. His head raised slowly, and he turned those blue eyes on you, now desperate. Orson’s lips parted – but whether to say he was sorry, or to beg for you to leave you’d never quite know. You gave a single shake of your head, but barely moved. Save it. Stay alive. Before you turned your eyes back to Vader. “General L/N.” “Lord Vader.” Your voice at least sounded self-assured, which you thought was better than you could possibly have expected – near enough a miracle. You used that confidence to spur yourself forward, and took a step, straightening your back further – folding your arms behind you to keep it that way. “It’s been a while.” You tried not to flick your eyes to Krennic, who was still staring at you. You weren’t sure how best to tell him to quit it – so all you could do was try and tune him out. But that was hard, because he was hurting, and the only thing you wanted to do when he was hurting was hold and protect him. That’s what you did. You’d been doing that for years – even back when he didn’t realise it. And he did the same for you, but right now you were both balancing on a knife edge and you were one tiny wrong move from toppling you both off of it. “It has,” you gave a nod “due to project intersections – my team and facility have been busy on great things for the Empire – and then of course when I was then given the opportunity to make a difference in the war with The Resolution I’ve been on the forefront of many a battle. Now that I find myself grounded…” You gave a shrug, “I am participating in many a strategic meeting.” “A lot all at once.” It was his turn to take a step, “Your rise through the ranks has not gone unnoticed. Neither has your commandeering of The Resolution and your instrumental handling of many strategic battles in this war we wouldn’t have won without you.” Despite the desire to swell with pride at these remarks coming from Darth Vader himself, you took all of that with a pinch of salt, because there was a punchline somewhere. And you didn’t think it was going to be humorous; “…But also your disregard for Officers at higher rank.  Consistently.” You would have disagreed with that. You ‘d only punched Tarkin in the face the once. “Officer Tarkin’s handling of the situation on Scarif was unprofessional in itself. We lost many lives, so much more data. A good outpost; before we think of the Star Destroyers and lives lost in the battle itself.” Okay, maybe it was the only physical punch you’d ever given anyone you disagreed with. “Perhaps building something not so problematic would lead the issue not to lie with the Governor?” If he was asking you to place the blame on Krennic, you would deflect. “Tarkin gave the order and I didn’t witness him attempt to evacuate. If you would ask me to change my log, my apologies, but I will not.” You were surprised you could just say that out loud. And thought maybe later you’d give yourself a slap on the wrist. Ballsy! “You were summoned here to explain yourself. And that you have at least done. But if you think that’s an excuse.” You blinked a few times and then allowed your eyes to return to Krennic, and whatever had just clicked in your head was also obviously on his face. Vader and Tarkin were in league here. This was more than likely a trap. And you and your lover had both just walked into it. That put you on the offensive; “I firmly believe that Scarif should not have been lost to stop Rebels in the way it all happened. The Death Star plans are worth saving – but the cost is too great in numbers for my liking and all I wanted Tarkin was to be aware of exactly what he had cost the Empire.” Then you took a breath, and added “Sir.” “Another great loss, Y/N, is yours in our ranks. And we can give you that back.” You noticed that his walk track changed, and each step was now towards Krennic, whose blue eyes flickered to obvious fear noticing this. But at least they were off you. Orson could barely move, but he still attempted to move away. “All you need to do is hand over the plans that you already have.” You answered without a moment’s hesitation or second thought; “I don’t have them.” “Come now, Y/N.” You froze for a second time, as this voice came from behind you. “We all know that isn’t true.” Tarkin was practically right behind you before you heard his footfall. “All you need to do is hand them over, and all this will go away.” You turned your head towards him, “I don’t know where they are. And I will not hand Director Krennic’s life’s work over to you. That is his to give.” Especially not Tarkin. It was hard to keep the spite out of your voice. Tarkin raised an eyebrow with a deep sigh and he crossed the platform towards Vader, hands crossed behind his back; “I rather think the Director incapable of doing anything right now…” and you didn’t miss the smug smirk across his face; “You BASTARD! You did this!” You took another few steps, quite prepared to shove him into liquid fire. But the next step Vader took was firm and too close, and you had to stop. Allowing Tarkin to turn to you; “Oh no. You did this. Y/N.” You glared at him, voice bitter; “I suppose you want an apology too?” “Wouldn’t say no.”  You scoffed, and couldn’t help yourself. No. Way. “But I know I can forget it.” He nodded to Krennic, “Can he?” “The choice is yours, General.” Vader and Tarkin stood together, and there was not a person in the Galaxy that could stand with you against them, the one man that would was bleeding on the floor and they had caused it. “Hand the files over, or your Director dies.”

You blinked hard for a moment, and thought you might just have misheard. But here in this situation, there was absolutely no way you could have. They were about to bargain with you for Krennic’s life! How the hell were you supposed to negotiate your way through this?! You had to get both of you out of here alive. You wouldn’t leave without him, and they were counting on that. “I don’t have it.” You gritted your teeth – he’d hidden it and you’d asked him to, so what the hell did they expect you to do with that-!? “You honestly expect us to believe that?” Tarkin chuckled, and you were about ready to kill him, “This is his life we’re talking about now. Surely you care about that.” You took another deep, slow breath and looked to him again. Krennic gave you the same small head shake that you’d given him - and you could have killed him too. There was no way you were letting him die. But you knew exactly what he meant. The problem was, if you still refused, and they killed him… And then killed you, what would that accomplish? You couldn’t live without him and they knew that just as much as you did. They’d likely leave you alive and broken just to spite you. There was silence for a moment, and it was just a second too long for Tarkin’s liking; “Have it your way.” Krennic went from looking at you to the floor almost immediately – reaching for his neck. For a moment everything felt very surreal, you’d heard about this and you’d heard about it from Orson himself – but actually watching him choke for breaths he couldn’t take was more sickening than anything you could have possibly seen in a warzone. And they could tell it was affecting you, by the visible pain on your face – tears were already stinging your eyes. “Stop it! You can’t just-” “Can’t we?” You looked between them again, Krennic’s forehead was to the floor now and he had seconds if that. “He didn’t DO anything!” You were desperate and this time you sounded it. “Director Krennic has done a great many things, General, he’s lucky he hasn’t met an untimely demise before this.” You tore your eyes from him again, this was unbearable – and you couldn’t stand by and watch him die. Not for anything. Not even if he never forgave you. “STOP IT!” This time you screamed it; “I’ll give you what you want just let him GO!” You knew they’d need more than just your word, and though you probably couldn’t have hated yourself any more – you pulled the disk from inside your uniform jacket. Vader released the Force Choke and even just hearing Krennic take a ragged breath and spluttering cough had relief flooding you. Tarkin stared at the disk suspiciously; “What is that? The data packs on Scarif were huge. It took an entire tower to transmit things like those plans, you can’t honestly think we’d belie-” “They’re access codes. All of them, to every file he has on the project.” They turned to each other in silent conversation before Tarkin seemed satisfied, and crossed to prise the disk from your hands. “Well. At least we know you can make one good decision Ms. L/N.” You narrowed your eyes at him not calling you by rank, but you were still aware your lover was taking breaths that sounded painful, sprawled out on the floor. “I’ll see you reinstated to The Resolution. Even without an apology. I have been thoroughly entertained.” He stepped back to Vader, satisfied. “Well, I believe we’ve got what we wanted, Lord Vader.” He turned back, with that same smug smirk. “And now we can impart the rest of the information.”

You flinched, surely they had both done enough. What else could they possibly do. “Director.” Krennic raised his head from the floor, breathing still shaking his body. He wasn’t yet ready to speak. And you didn’t think you’d ever seen Tarkin look crueller. “Orson Callan Krennic, you are hereby stripped of rank-” You couldn’t help but gape, what the FUCK!? “-and office. You will no longer work for the Advanced Weapons Division, or the Intelligence Bureau. Or hold a position within the Empire ever again. You will be blacklisted throughout the Galaxy… Good Luck finding a job, Krennic.” You could only stare in disbelief, hurting him wasn’t enough, now they had to break and humiliate him? And Orson had never been very good at hiding his emotions. But Tarkin and Vader had just turned him from Director to Civilian. And you had absolutely no leverage to waltz into someone’s office and demand it be reinstated. ‘Make yourself indispensable,’ you had said ‘and you’ll be safe.’ all it sounded like was the biggest lie. Tarkin turned back to you, smile almost cheerful, and he waved the disk. “Congratulations, General. You’ve done this yourself.” He swivelled his head back to Krennic, with a tut, “It’s not like he was much use to the Empire anyway…”

You couldn’t talk either, for different reasons. They were about to walk away with Krennic’s life’s work. And leave you with a broken man whose work you had just handed over. There wasn’t any way you were coming out of this intact. You had promised him you’d never give it up – you had broken that promise for his life. And yet Tarkin had taken it from him anyway. “Welcome back, General - you made the right choice. I look forward to seeing you in the air again.” If you thought you could even reach for your blaster right now with your emotions racing the way there were and your hands shaking, you’d have sent a bolt through his heart. By the tone in his voice he wasn’t even really addressing you, but Krennic; yes, Orson she did choose her own ambition over you. Whereas the reality couldn’t have been more different; his life over his work. And nagging in the back of your mind somewhere - and perhaps your only consolation prize, was that they still didn’t know about the fault. “I suppose you want to move now?” Tarkin addressed you again as he turned away; “With your ship reinstated I see no reason to make you stand around here and wait for any more. He’ll probably need medical attention, General. You may wish to see to that.” With that they both left. And you sprinted.

“Orson! Orson! Oh my god-!” The bleeding was a lot worse than it looked, by the way that he was huddled. But he pushed you away, devastated; “You gave it up-! You PROMISED ME!!” “It was your LIFE! Your LIFE! I couldn’t LOSE YOU! I can’t LOSE YOU!” “MY LIFE-!? THEY JUST DESTROYED MY LIFE--!” He choked again, finding the strength to push you once more “I have nothing. Leave me.” “I am NOT leaving you! Don’t you dare say that… I…” You were already both crying. “Orson, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry-! If I’d have thought for one second that they’d…” Your eyes traced his body; hurt and bleeding - all you wanted to do was protect him from everything, and you were regretful most of all for not being able to protect him before now, if you’d have got here earlier, could you have spared him this? And then you were sobbing and this time he let you pull his fragile body into yours – which only made him sob into your uniform, hands tangling in your jacket he buried his head in your chest in an attempt to hide himself from the world – and your arms could do nothing more than hold him. You weren’t even sure you’d done your job at protecting him now – you’d failed at the only job that really mattered; “Baby, I’m so sorry…” --- @menndelsohn​ @3134045126​​ @happyskywhale​ @wltz-bby​ #MendoTagSquad

[vagrantblvrd]

Sky Factory Android Shenanigans is giving me so many ideas?

That super cliché sci-fi AU where Michael’s an android on the run (because reasons???) and he ends up on one backwater planet/colony somewhere. Parts on the fritz thanks to a run in with some black ops/assassination squad and he needs repairs but doesn’t know who to trust?

Broadcasts reporting him as, idk, malfunctioning and the whatnot and a danger to the public – do not approach or engage – and call the authorities if you see this unit.

(Unit, like he’s not a person anymore, had his autonomy stripped away along with his humanity and goddamn him for being stupid enough to trust whatever organization he signed up for that got him killed, turned him into this and fucked him over again with all the secrets it was keeping he hadn’t even guessed at before stumbling on them, hence the android on the run part of things? But yes.)

And then he overhears someone talking about this lunatic living on the fringes of whatever settlement he’s come to. Like something out of the true crime stories he used to follow when he was a kid – or is that just another implanted memory?

Shady as hell and rife with con-men and thieves and worse, perfect place to hide out for a while until his stupid body shuts down and he dies for real out here.

Half-blind most days because that shot to the head and it acts up at the worst times. Almost gets him killed a few times when some of those thieves and worse ambush him in an alley and it’s sheer luck he manages to get out of it without suffering more damage.

Anyway, anyway, he hears about this lunatic who’s supposed to be some kind of mechanical genius, right? Doesn’t run a real shop, lives out by the main scrapyard like a weirdo. People bring their busted machines and gadgets and the whatnots to him and he fixes them up nice and pretty-ish. (Cheaper than the officially licensed technicians near the spaceport and a hell of a lot more discreet to boot.)

So.

Michael makes his way there, half-convinced he’s walking into a trap but it’s take that risk or end up being a pile of spare parts in the guy’s scrapyard anyway, right?

And at first the asshole doesn’t even respond when Michael knocks on his door, pretends he’s not home or whatever and Michael’s just.

At the end of his rope and angry and defeated and he starts yelling at the fucker until his vocalizer glitches out, and that’s when the door snaps open, sending Michael tumbling inside where he lands on his face because his everything is fucked up and he doesn’t react fast enough.

Looks up to see someone staring down at him, implants and augments like whoa because no human has an eye that glows red unless it’s in one of those old horror holovids.

“What do you want?

Surly bastard, which lines up with the things Michael overheard before.

Loner who doesn’t really gt left alone because people need things, don’t they, and there’s not a lot of  money coming into a place like this. Old mining planet/colony where the companies pulled their operations out when the mines ran dry and only the worst kind of people come by anymore.

The few decent people left behind too poor to relocate, so it’s a shitshow and as someone with the skills to he has he gets visitors more often than he’d care for. (Customers or someone hoping to take what he has any way they have to, which explains the weapon in his hand and Michael’s almost to point he’d just let the fucker shoot him to be done with it, but.)

He stands up, servos and whatever else he’s made of these days creaking and groaning and this little flash of light that may be actual sparks coming off him and he sees the guy’s grimace at how bad off he is.

Like Jesus, if he wasn’t what he was Michael knows someone would have scrapped him a few planets back, but whatever.

The guy – Ryan, of course it’s Ryan – flips the lights on and they get a good look at one another.

Michael’s headed for a full-system shutdown and Ryan?

Looks like he’s been through some shit. Enough augments and implants that the legal system would be hard-put classifying him as human anymore, leaning past cyborg and dangerously close to being an android himself like some of those soldiers Michael’s seen who got caught up in the outer worlds skirmishes a few years back.

A lot of them look cobbled together from whatever parts he could find out here, which makes sense if the guy’s here of all places. (People don’t end up somewhere like here if they have resources to call on, you know? And no one ends up somewhere like here if they’re not in some kind of trouble, so. Yeah.)

They regard each for a long, long time.

Michael knows Ryan recognizes him, but he’s too tired to bother running – been doing too much of that as it is – and he wouldn’t get far in the shape he’s in if he tried

Last resort and the way that goes and Ryan sighs, gesturing for Michael to follow him and he does because what else is he going to do?

Ryan fixes him up, this long on-going process that takes a long damn time because Michael’s so busted up. Has this little helper bot he’s built out of old construction bots or something because its still sporting that distinct yellow paint job, little black and white stripe along its side.

Beeps and chirps and boops whenever Ryan asks it to bring him this tool or that, dig through the bins along one wall for parts or whatever. Hovers along just behind him when they’re not in the workshop/lab loyal little helper and kind of cute in a weird kind of way.

Ryan calls it E.D.G.A.R. and when Michael asks what the acronym stands for Ryan shrugs because hell if he knows, he just thought it was appropriate, which what does that even mean???

Ryan and E.D.G.A.R. dig through the bits and pieces he has stashed in his workshop/lab/lab, cannibalize worker androids – makes and models who didn’t start out as humans like Michael did – for some of it. Searches through the scrapyard to find parts he can modify for the rest.

Once he gets Michael functioning to a high enough level he can lend a hand Michael’s out there too, digging through piles of appliances and machinery and trying not to look too hard at the scattered android parts and chassis tossed in there too. (Some look too human, synthetic flesh torn and weathered from being unprotected from the elements for who know how long)

They don’t really get friendly, the two of them, but Ryan forgets to play the curmudgeon the longer he works at fixing Michael up.

Doesn’t ask who Michael is or how he ended up here, doesn’t seem like he’s waiting on the authorities to come claim him either.

Kind of a confusing time for them both because it’s clear Ryan’s got his own secrets, you know?

More than just some guy who picked up what he knows ‘along the way’, no.

There’s an order to his workshop/lab/lab Michael recognizes from the days right after those fuckers turned him into a machine, the way he works.

Meticulous as hell and so precise and just. More care than any of the hacks Michael’s gone to since he’s been on the run.

And then!

And then there’s – Michael doesn’t know when the shift happens but he bitches about something and Ryan laughs, quiet little huff of air and this tell-tale quirk to his mouth, and he gives Michael this. This look.

Something thoughtful to it he doesn’t really understand, can’t fucking compute, but who cares, right? Because Ryan’s less of a bastard after that, they get along better and Michael stops worrying Ryan’s just waiting for the right moment to turn him in, thinks his luck might be changing on him – so of course that’s when things go to shit.

Someone must have seen Michael before, recognized him and figured out he went to Ryan for help because the people chasing Michael?

They find him.

Assassination squad(s) and both of them unprepared for it and Ryan gets hit, gets hit bad.

More machine than man, but there’s still enough squishy human left to him that a bullet/energy weapon shot in the right place will kill him, you know? (Besides, all those augments and implants are hooked up to his squishy human parts in amazingly delicate ways and it’s real fucking easy to use that against someone if you know how.)

Michael doesn’t get away unscathed himself, but of the two of them he’s far more functional. And even though Ryan didn’t have the right parts and components to bring him up to factory specs again, so to speak, he did a damn good job with what he had on hand, you know?

There’s also the fact that the people who made Michael what he is now didn’t expect him to turn on them, thought they had a nice loyal dog in their hands and they made a mistake giving him the teeth and claws they did. All these built-in weapons because he’s a prototype, isn’t he.

New war machine to sell to the highest bidder and better than all those soulless robots people were using before because there’s a human mind in there capable of making the kind of decisions and choices and whatever else a simple computer program or AI could ever hope to. (Real fucking close to the complex sort of AI they’d need for that, but not close enough to satisfy the corporations or military forces who would commission them.)

So.

Michael gets them out of there, follows E.D.G.A.R. to this ship Ryan’s got hidden away – looks like shit but Ryan – stubbornly hanging on – insists it’ll get them to safety, just don’t fly them into the sun or a fucking planet, for Christ’s sake.

Michael gets Ryan into the medbay which – surprise, surprise – looks like a smaller version of Ryan’s workshop/lab/ than a medbay, but who cares at this point.

Hooks him up to machines to keep him alive until he can give him proper medical care and gets them away from any pursuers.

When he goes back down to check on Ryan it’s to find the asshole directing E.D.G.A.R. to open up this   pod on the wall. (Looks more like a casket.)

Human shaped and something about it unsettles Michael who demands to know what’s going on, because Ryan shouldn’t be doing what’s he’s doing.

Seriously injured and lost a lot of blood and any normal human would be dead by this point, and Ryan.

He sighs, gives Michael this look because they both know he’s not going to get better from his injuries, you know? Squishy human parts all fucked up and augments and implants malfunctioning worse than Michael had been when he went to Ryan.

Only a matter of time and Ryan knew something like this would happen one day – all the things Michael was careful not to ask Ryan the same way Ryan didn’t ask Michael because secrets. (And Plot Reasons, but c’mon, you know how this works by now.)

E.D.G.A.R. cracks the pod/casket open and oh, wow, surprise, surprise there’s an android body inside it.

Looks a hell of a lot like Michael’s, but this one is a little bigger, bulkier. Looks like an older version, one that was modeled more after the construction androids, used for heavy labor and the whatnot. No synthetic flesh cover its frame, all powered down and waiting and -

“Don’t do this,” Michael says, because Ryan thinks he knows what he’s doing but he doesn’t.

He doesn’t.

(Michael doesn’t know what else they can do, but this - there has to be another way.)

Ryan gives Michael this sad little smile and it’s horrifying because internal bleeding and everything else, and he’s just.

“Michael,” he says, and he sounds so tired. “Why do you think I knew how to repair you?”

Because Ryan didn’t end up in some backwater planet/colony by accident, you know?

Doesn’t know the things he does because he read about it somewhere or had a job working in a goddamned repair shop on one of the inner worlds.

None of those easy little lies Michael kept telling himself, no.

Ryan used to work for this corporation, big on advancing science and all that bullshit that had major funding provided by the military and so on and so forth. People real interested in cutting down on human bloodshed and what better way than to create machines to do it for them?

Things went wrong along the way, and they got desperate as project after project failed to live up to expectation. (Some key component missing and it wasn’t until someone decided morals and ethics were oh so troublesome they made any real headway.)

People like Michael and accidents here and there, soldiers offer a second chance and there’s an experimental program that hasn’t been revealed to the public. Dangerous, of course, but -

Some people got a choice in the matter, sold their souls for that second chance. Others like Michael never had that luxury.

And Ryan, oh. He was part of that, wasn’t he.

Designed the androids because the science of it all, but he never expected things would lead where they did.

Got to watch as his creations were used in the worst possible ways, saw the early days where human brains couldn’t cope with the transfer progress. Breadth and depth of what makes a human mind (soul?) shoved into a computerized/cybernetic shell of its former self, most without warning and the fallout -

Most committed suicide, some went mad. The others had to be destroyed as they decayed.

And Ryan.

He tried to expose them, did what he could and it almost, almost worked.

But one man against a vast conglomeration fueled by greed and corruption and it almost killed him. (Should have, maybe that would have been better.)

He had a handful of augments and implants before everything went to hell to help him in his work, but afterward.

Well.

Squishy human bodies are just that, aren’t they. Get injured so badly they can’t be fixed and he ended up needing more and more until he might as well have been one of those androids he created once upon a time. (Poetic justice to it, or so he thought when he bothered to think about it at all.)

And anyway, anyway, that doesn’t matter at this point because it’s either transfer his squishy human brain-stuff into the waiting android frame or die.

Before all this, before Michael, Ryan might have chosen death. Figured it’s what he deserved for his part in things, no way he can expose the people responsible when he’s failed before, but.

Michael makes him want to try.

(Ryan knew, you see, while he was fixing Michael that the idiot would go right back out once he was done and try to do the impossible. May have drawn things out longer than he should have to prevent that from happening because he likes Michael, okay? Too much, maybe.)

This isn’t the way he saw things going, but he doesn’t want to die now. Doesn’t want to leave Michael alone to fix Ryan’s mistakes. (And maybe it’s not all on Ryan to fix, but who else is going to do it?)

So.

Michael hates it, hates it so much but he does what Ryan tells him to do. Gets him hooked up to the right machines, boots up the right programs and whatever else and watches Ryan die as he turns himself into an android.

He doesn’t know why Ryan’s doing what he’s doing, thinks it’s because he doesn’t want to just fade away into nothing, but Ryan tells him later.

Tells him everything as he’s figuring out how his new android body works, the two of them following gossip and rumors surrounding this broadcast someone’s sending out about the people responsible for making Michael what he is. Things said people are trying to shut down, shut down hard, but can never catch.

He tells him and Michael listens and it’s not easy, God is it ever not, but they come to an understanding  or something like that.

Ryan didn’t know, not for the longest time and when he did he tried to do something about that, and that has to count for something.

(He saved Michael’s life or whatever the hell you’d call it when he turned up on his doorstep, and that counts for something too.)

And just.

Michael’s got his own mistakes too, okay.

So.

They figure things out, and Ryan fixes up his android body so its face looks like his human one and he maybe upgrades it, Michael laughing at him when Ryan goes on and on and on about laser hands or whatever the hell. (Ridiculous and impractical as hell, but goddamn does it sound cool.)

Also, also? Ryan doesn’t have the combat training/protocols Michael does so ~training. Partly to get him used to how his new body moves, partly because they don’t have access to adequate things at first and Michael runs him through the basics, right?

And he teaches Ryan how to compensate for it when his targeting whatevers are on the fritz and Ryan proves to be a better shot than Michael? (New ways to bring old cliches and tropes into play, is what I’m getting at here.)

Those moments where Ryan comes up against the limitations of his new body, realizes what he’s lost when he chose to become an android and Michael just being there because he’s the best person to understand what he’s going through?

The two of them becoming this amazing team over time that is an actual threat to the people after them? (And E.D.G.A.R., because Ryan is too damn fond of the bucket of bolts.)

They run into assassination squads and whatever else and finally, finally find the source of the broadcasts and of course it’s Matt and all these misfits and outcasts with grudges against the assholes after Michael and Ryan and it’s just.

Shenanigans in space as this group of supposed space pirates/smugglers/criminal types take on a corrupt corporation because reasons.

Also, yes, totally FAHC AU in space, but different ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

================

More of this AU with Jerevin this time???

[toxoiddiamond]

T H E B A S I C S Given Name: Joel Porter Nycroft Nicknames: No nicknames, but he goes by the name Joel Winters professionally. Age: 40 Birthday: May 25th Zodiac Sign: Gemini Birthplace: Liverpool, England Current Location: He is constantly touring, but he has two homes– one just outside of London, and one in LA. His London-ish (as he calls it) home is where he spends his time off, and his LA home (which is a condo) is where he lives while the band works on recording new albums, since that is where their current label is based. Speaks: English and French (not fluently, but decently well). Dominant Hand: Ambidextrous Education: High school dropout, never bothered to get his GED or anything since he never really needed to. No college education, obviously. He is very smart though, and reasonably well-educated. Occupation: Lead singer and guitarist of internationally famous band No Rest for the Londoners, often shortened to simply The Londoners. Vehicle: It’s been a very long time since he’s had to drive himself anywhere– and that’s probably for the best, given the fact that he is under the influence more often than not. He has drivers that take him anywhere he needs to go, or, if the place is within walking distance, he’ll just walk over. Worldly Possessions: Though he’s quite wealthy, he doesn’t live too ostentatiously. He does tend to buy expensive/high quality things that will last him a long time, especially if it’s an instrument or anything to do with music, but he doesn’t spend excessively. He has some artwork on his walls that he splurged on, a shelf for his various awards (which he keeps hidden in a closet in his home studio because he feels weird having them out on display for all to see), nice (but not ridiculously expensive) clothes and bedding and such, furniture he had custom made by a local carpenter, etc. Then he has all his instruments and music equipment, which make up the majority of his possessions. Pet(s): He can barely take care of himself, so he has never even considered owning a pet, but he does like animals a lot. In the future, once he has his shit together, he would be totally open to having pets.

A P P E A R A N C E Height: 6’0” Hair: Dark with a few flecks of grey. Long-ish and usually a bit of a mess unless he’s going somewhere fancy, in which case he will slick it back. Facial Hair: He usually keeps his beard quite full. He trims it now and then, but it’s rare for him to actually shave it all off. Eye Colour: Brown Skin Tone: He doesn’t spend a lot of time outdoors, so he’s pasty. Clothing: For the most part, he looks pulled together– jeans and t-shirts, the occasional cardigan, peacoats in colder weather, classic black suits when he attends special events. He doesn’t exactly dress like a “rock star” and has never cared to try and be edgy or fit a certain persona. Distinguishing Marks: Faded track marks on both his arms from his past heroin abuse– he makes no effort to hide or cover them, since he figures everyone knows about his drug problem anyway. Face Claim: Jim Sturgess

H E A L T H Physical Health: It could be better. What with the fact that he’s constantly high or drunk (or both), his health is not great. He is constantly exhausted, often feels sick, has a weak immune system, and is pretty much just a mess. There’s been more than one occasion throughout his career when he’s passed out from sheer exhaustion, or had to reschedule shows due to illness (though he considers that a last resort). Physical Abilities/Limitations: Joel is an extremely talented musician. On top of the fact that he has a lovely singing voice, he can play guitar, piano, drums, and bass. He can’t read music at all, but has a knack for playing by ear, which drives the rest of his band absolutely nuts because anytime they try to ask Joel what key he’s singing/playing in, he just shrugs. Addictions: It would be faster to list the things he’s not addicted to. But mainly, he’s addicted to alcohol and cocaine. He used to have a serious heroin addiction, but hasn’t touched heroin since his late twenties. He also abuses Xanax, though he doesn’t realize that’s what he’s doing– he figures that since his doctor prescribed it, it’s fine to use it on a regular basis, but it’s really doing more harm than good. Allergies: None Mental Health: Terrible. Like, catastrophically bad. Joel is pretty much always on the verge of a mental breakdown– he has had several over the past few years, but has not gotten the help he so desperately needs in order to get his mental health back in order. He has gone to rehab many times, but wasn’t really given much help in the mental health department; he was just told he needed to relax and that once he was off the drugs he would feel much better. Turned out that wasn’t true, so he has always gone back to the drugs after leaving rehab. He is constantly considering suicide, and has attempted it twice; once when he was fourteen, and once when he was thirty-two. The second attempt was passed off as an accidental drug overdose to the media, though it was not accidental at all.

H I S T O R Y Summary: Joel was born and raised in Liverpool. His father left when he was just a baby, so Joel never knew him. Unfortunately, his mother was neglectful and uncaring– she was addicted to drugs and ran with a bad crowd, and her only real concern was where her next fix would come from. Joel was often left with neighbors or other family members for long periods of time before his mother would remember to come and get him. More than once, authorities were alerted to the fact that Joel’s mother was not taking care of him, but nothing ever really came of it. From an early age, Joel was interested in music, and began teaching himself to play guitar when he was ten years old. He always had a knack for playing by ear, so he never bothered to learn to read music. He spent a lot of time in a local music shop playing around with various instruments, and the staff let him hang around since he didn’t bother anyone and they kind of felt sorry for him. It was there that Joel taught himself to play both piano and bass. At the age of 14, Joel was pressured by some of his mom’s friends into getting high with them. Although Joel didn’t want to, he was made to feel that saying no wasn’t an option, so he did heroin with them. He doesn’t remember much of what happened that night– just that he went with them somewhere, Joel was absolutely scared out of his mind, and then he woke up the next morning on a park bench. From then on, Joel began to get high regularly, and did favors for his mom’s “friends,” mostly running drugs and bringing back money. It was around this time that he attempted suicide by purposely overdosing, but he woke up the next morning– still in his bedroom, intensely sick and much worse for wear, but alive. Joel dropped out of high school at 16– he would have failed his classes anyway since he’d been skipping school so much and his grades had plummeted. At 17, his friend Michael invited him to London– Michael was moving there and saw an opportunity to get Joel away from all the bad influences in his life. They moved in with Michael’s aunt for a while, and Joel took a job in a record shop to save up money. Eventually they struck out on their own and decided to put a band together, something they had talked about for years. After finding the perfect band members (something they still insist was fate), they began writing songs and recorded an EP in Joel and Michael’s basement. After playing a few local shows, word of mouth begin to spread, and before they knew it, they were approached by a manager offering them a contract with a major label. They took the deal, and the rest is history. Job History: His first “job” was as an errand boy for a shady group of drug dealers. He then worked in a record store for almost three years, and during that time, helped form the band and started playing the occasional show. Obviously that worked out because he is a very famous, successful musician now. Fondest Memories: His first rock concert when he was ten years old. Running away from Liverpool– he’ll never forget the feeling of freedom as they drove past the city limits. Performing in small venues and getting such an unexpectedly good response. And, of course, the first time they ever performed in a sold-out arena; the first time he heard the audience singing his own lyrics back at him, Joel almost cried. Worst Experiences: The majority of his childhood. And… a lot of his adulthood, actually.

C O M M U N I C A T I O N Speech Pace/Style: Though Joel can be very charming, he’s not exactly smooth. He’s kind of a dork, and most of his charm comes from the fact that people find it endearing how weird and awkward he can be. Depending on whatever drugs are in his system, he can either talk a mile a minute, or he might speak slowly, possibly slurring his words (though the slurring isn’t always noticeable with his accent). Accent: Very, very English with a distinctive Scouse accent. When he speaks, there is absolutely no doubt about where he’s from. Favorite Phrases or Words: He uses a lot of typical Scouse slang, such as “made up” for “happy,” or “cob on” for “bad mood.” His bandmates tease him about his weird accent/dialect all the time, though it’s all in good fun, of course. Usual Curse Words: Fuck, and any of its derivatives.

P E R S O N A L I T Y, M I N D S E T, A N D B E L I E F S Personality Type: ENFP-T Sense of Humor: Joel is charismatic and funny– he loves to make people laugh and can be quite a goofball when the mood strikes him. He often uses humor as a way to deflect or distract from his issues, so a lot of people who don’t know him well are surprised to find out that he’s as depressed as he is. When it comes to entertaining people, he will do just about anything to get a laugh, as long as it’s not offensive in some way– self-deprecating humor is his go-to, though. Habits: He tends to fidget a lot– wringing his hands, scratching at his arms, bouncing his leg when he’s sitting, especially during interviews or before a performance. Fears/Phobias: His biggest fear is ending up alone. He doesn’t even like being alone in his house, so the idea of being abandoned or rejected by the people he cares about is what really scares him. Loneliness is his worst enemy, and honestly, anytime when Joel is left alone with his own thoughts is just not going to end well. Strengths: Joel is a creative, kind, and thoughtful person who genuinely likes being around others and getting to know them. He loves doing nice things for people, making people laugh, and is charismatic as hell. People seem to naturally flock to him and enjoy his company– he’s kind of the life of the party. Joel always does his best to be kind to his fans as well, especially kids, and would never deny anyone a picture or autograph, even if he secretly would rather be doing anything else. Flaws: As lovely as Joel can be, when he’s deep under the influence of drugs, it’s like he’s a completely different person. Selfish, combative, and a chronic liar. When he starts spiralling into depression, it’s impossible for him to pull himself out of that tailspin, and that is how he’s ended up in this vicious cycle of getting depressed, doing drugs, getting more depressed, drinking the pain away, getting even more depressed, etc, etc. Hopes/Desires: He really, really wants to get clean and sober, but doesn’t know if it’s really possible for him. He hates that he’s so reliant on drugs and alcohol to even get through the day, but he’s felt so awful and depressed (more than usual) every time he’s gotten clean that he doesn’t see how he can live like that. Self-Esteem: It could not possibly be any lower. Joel considers himself to be a burden on everyone he knows and pretty much thinks he’s a waste of space. It would only take the tiniest nudge for him to attempt suicide (again). Religion: He doesn’t believe in any kind of god or higher power. In fact, he really hopes there isn’t any such thing, because he’s pretty sure that if there is a god or any kind of afterlife, he won’t end up going anywhere pleasant when he dies.

R A N D O M Sleeping Position: Curled up in a ball on his side. Boxers or Briefs?: Boxers Day or Night?: He doesn’t have a preference– it really just depends on whether he has something to do or not. Top or Bottom?: He can go either way. Partying or Relaxing?: Usually partying, unless he has someone to relax with.

R E L A T I O N S H I P S Closest Friend: He is close to all of his bandmates: Michael (Joe Anderson), Dawn (Sofia Boutella), Holly (Devon Aoki), and their newest/youngest bandmate who replaced their former rhythm guitarist, Ryan (Justin Nozuka). Out of all of them, he is definitely closest with Michael since they grew up together. Relationship History: Not a lot of long-term relationships. He briefly dated Dawn back when they first met, before the band blew up, but they quickly decided they weren’t compatible. He has dated around a bit, some men and some women, mostly people who are also in the public eye (actors, models, musicians, etc), but none of those relationships lasted longer than a few months. Sexual Partners: A lot. He was definitely promiscuous when he was younger, lots of flings and one-night stands. As he got older, he lost interest in having a new partner every night and started getting into more actual relationships, though none of them lasted longer than a year. Thoughts About Sex: He enjoys it. He especially enjoys it when his partner doesn’t leave immediately afterward. Joel really likes to cuddle after sex, so it’s always disappointing to him when it turns out his partner isn’t interested in cuddling.

P A R E N T S Name(s): Donna Nycroft Age(s): She died at the age of 57 Social Standing: Not good. She was widely known to be an addict, and ran with a shady crowd to help fuel her addiction. Occupation(s): Drug dealer, occasionally traded sex for drugs or money, occasionally took part-time jobs if she was really desperate, though she could never hold down a legitimate job for very long. Religion: Nope. Quality of Relationship With His Children: Horrible. She never cared much for Joel, and only kept him because she got child support money from his father every month. She paid as little attention to him as possible and didn’t care at all what he did or where he went. When he first got famous, she tried to sell her “story” to a bunch of tabloids and started trashing him in the media, but the drama died down quickly because Joel refused to address anything she said and pretended he didn’t know who she was. Joel was honestly not sad at all when he got the news about her death. He pretty much said “oh… okay” and moved on immediately. Living/Deceased: Dead

D A I L Y L I F E Living Arrangements: Joel has two homes– one moderately large home on the outskirts of London, and a condo in LA. His London home is a bit secluded and private, and is where he likes to go during his off times, as he can escape the press for the most part. His band mates will often come and stay with him as well, partly because they don’t want him to be alone, and partly because they all have a great time together, especially when there’s not the pressure of recording or a tour. His LA home is where he lives while they work on recording, since their label is based in LA. The house in London is fairly large, but not a mansion by any means– it has four bedrooms, one of which Joel has converted into a music studio where he can practice, write songs, mess around with instruments, etc. Two bedrooms are currently guest rooms, and then there is the master bedroom, of course. The place is decorated with custom furniture Joel had designed and made by a local carpenter, and it is all very nice-looking and comfortable. His condo is decorated in a very minimalist, functional way, which suits Joel just fine. Lots of open space and windows, furniture with clean, modern lines, a few splashes of color here and there, and not much else.

[taesbetch]

01 | Den Of Hybrids

Pairing: BTS  x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Word Count: 5.1k

Summary: Taking care of six hybrids can be a pain in the ass but when a stray needs y/ns help, y/n brings him home to his new family. Follow Y/n as she tries to help Taehyung (The new hybrid in town) fit in and continue to keep the other six alive along with other troubles that life brings.

Next |

“y/n. hey, wake up!”

You groaned as your body was shaken furiously by the one and only jeon jungkook. That fucking bunny was the end to your peaceful rest almost every morning. Hearing growling next to you, you awaited the routine argument between your eldest hybrid and your youngest.

“Y/n I’m hungry” Jungkook whined as he continued to shake you back and forth. Answering him with a groan you desperately tried to fall back into the slumber you were so rudely pulled from.

“Jungkook, fuck off and make your own food!” Jin growled his ears perked up, suddenly wide awake.

“I’m banned from the kitchen remember, she said I was never allowed to touch cooking supplies without you or Namjoon present” Jungkook answered, unbothered with jin’s annoyed tone as he continued to tug at the white sheets covering your body.

“we’re trying to sleep” jin grumbled as he rolled over, placing the pillow over his head.

“well if you slept in your own bed, you wouldn’t be interrupted,” Jungkook said sassily as he placed his hands on his hips, a small pout making its way onto his face.

A small growl made its way from jin’s lips but that was all he replied with knowing that jungkook held some truth in his statement. Knowing that Jin only slept with you because your attention was mostly occupied with the younger hybrids you let out a sigh and decided to give him some peace and quiet by distracting the alert bunny.

Jin was the first hybrid that you had bought. You may have been sixteen but lying about your age to save what was classified as a ‘senior hybrid’ didn’t seem like a sin to you. ‘senior hybrids’ were often overlooked as they are said to of passed their ‘prime’. Which to you seemed like utter bullshit, to put a timer on someone’s ‘prime’ was stupid as each person is different. When you saw jin argue with the person selling him because they forgot to pack him lunch you knew he was the hybrid for you.

“Okay, I’m up,” you said as you sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Slipping your feet into the slippers sitting by your bed a yawn escaped your lips as jins arm tried to pull you back into bed.

“Breakfast!” Jungkook cheered as he bounced around excitedly.

6am

This is when your day starts. This is when the chaos begins.

With jungkook happily escorting you down to the kitchen, you smiled as he looked back at you every couple of steps, making sure you were still following him. When you first were left the mansion of your grandmother you felt a little overwhelmed. And though you had Namjoon to help you out the idea of keeping a mansion alive scared the living shit out of you.

Namjoon was your grandmother’s hybrid, he pretty much watched you grow up which is why the two of you have such a strong connection. When she passed away, she left everything to you, her favourite grandchild.

As you made yourself and jungkook some breakfast you smiled at how far you had come. When you were first given your fund trust, you had panicked. 500 million was enough to keep you more than comfortable but you didn’t want to become one of those kids who did nothing and had everything.

So, you used the money given to you for the house maintenance and your hybrids and used your job to buy yourself clothes and anything materialistic.

“Bacon and eggs! Baconnn and eggs!” jungkook chanted as you brought his plate and yours over to the table. the two of you sat down, jungkook in front of you at his usual spot.

You watched fondly as the boy gobbled up his food. When you turned eighteen you had seen an ad for a sixteen-year-old rabbit hybrid being sold for nothing. This waved major warning signs as these hybrids were usually sold into trafficking rings. Immediately, you contacted the owner and told him you would take him. When you brought him home to Jin your dog hybrid and Namjoon your lion hybrid you were a bit worried he wouldn’t do so well as bunnies were prey animals, but the young and energetic bunny had a blast. Quickly figuring out that his knack of destroying things was the reason his owners gave him up you took extra pre-cautions, knowing that you would never give this bundle of joy away.

7am

Looking at the empty chairs you realised you had let time slip by. Getting up with your plate you began to cook breakfast for the other hybrids as jungkook skipped upstairs to get ready for the day. Letting the food simmer, you began your marathon around the house to get the hybrids together.

Each hybrid had their rooms altered to there needs, all of them had a second floor and special functions.

Since you were on the first floor you ran to Namjoon’s room first “Namjoon! Breakfast in ten!” You yelled as you swung open his door. You smiled as you saw him awake and dressed as usual.

“Ill plate it, while you wake up the others” He smiled as he turned towards you. sending him a flying kiss you raced to the next room. Hoseok was your horse hybrid and boy were you in over your head when you got him. A horse hybrid needs access to the outdoors and needs to have the freedom to shift whenever they need. they also have dietary needs and must eat twice as much as any other hybrid.

“Hoseok! Breakfast in ten” You shouted as swung his door open, slamming it shut just to make sure he wakes up. Hoseok was a stray; he didn’t like talking about his past so you didn’t push him. As long as he was happy and healthy now, you didn’t mind that he kept that to himself.

Running up to the second floor of the house you skipped jungkook’s room as he was awake and ran to jimin’s slowly opening the door as you didn’t want to scare your second bunny.

You got jimin and your cat hybrid Yoongi at the same shelter and clearly, something shady was going on as jimin is scared out of his mind and Yoongi is cold and aloof. the two had obviously reacted differently to the shelter and were now reacting differently to you. Jimin, although frightened and timid was making an effort to connect with the others, he loved cuddle time but would never confidently come to you and demand it. Yoongi, however, was often pouty and moody, sending you glares and swatting your hands away when you would try to come near him.

“jiminieee” you cooed softly as you walked into his room. The boy would often shake under his bed, terrified after being woken up by loud banging and shouts of breakfast.

Kneeling down you smiled softly as you saw the boy with his favourite blankie wrapped around his head. He tried his hardest to smile at you even though his body shook with anxiety.

“breakfast in ten sweetheart,” You said as you backed up, giving him room to crawl out. Watching him crawl towards you, you gave him his morning hug laughing at how utterly adorable he was. Leaving jimin’s room you ran over to Yoongis, knocking obnoxiously hard just to annoy him – he didn’t like it when you entered his room so instead you shouted from the outside. “Breakfast!!!!!” you yelled knowing your voice would also alert the semi-awake dog hybrid in your bed on the top floor.  

Running upstairs you gave Jin a head rub as you walked past each other. The sleep hybrid going down to eat, you going up to get changed.

Pulling off your pyjamas you quickly changed into a jumper and some leggings. Today was restocking day, which means you need clothes that are comfortable and clothes you can move in. taking all seven hybrids to the shops was maybe the hardest thing you’ve ever done but in order to get everything everyone needed, they all had to come.

“Good Morning everyone,” you said as you strolled downstairs, still slightly tired but ready for the day. The group mumbled a good morning back as they ate their food. Walking around the table you gave them all kisses on the head.

“Don’t forget your lists, we leave in an hour” you said as Yoongi fought of your love before giving up and letting you kiss his head as well.

“in an hour!”

You jumped in shock as jungkook appeared out of nowhere, pouting his lips and whining like the baby he was.

“yes jungkook, an hour. I’m not leaving any earlier” You said sternly. There have been a couple of times when jungkook has pleaded you to take him early. His need to get things done not coinciding with the schedule of everyone else, but boy was it hell.

He whined again before stomping back up to his room to occupy himself for the next hour.

Your work as an author meant you were able to take the hybrids anywhere at any time, they wanted. However, for poor young jungkook re-stocking day was set which meant that he would have to wait today, something he was not used to at all.

“Y/n, I put the mail of today on the table, I can go through it later if you like” Namjoon suggested as he put his plate in the sink, checking the other hybrids plates to see if they had finished.

“That would be great, thank you,” You said gratefully.

“Y-y/n”

Turning around you watched as jimin shuffled towards you, his ears low and a soft blush covering his cheeks.

“yes jimin” You smiled ass he played with his hands.

“c-can you h-help me with my list” he asked as he pulled a piece of paper out of his back pocket.

“Of course I can! Come here, let me see it” you said as you signalled for him to follow you to the kitchen counter.

As he passed you the list you were shocked at how little was on it. This may have been jimin’s first re-stock day as you only adopted him a couple weeks ago but you were sure you made it clear that they could put anything they wanted down.

“s-s-sorry did I put to much” he whined as a small tear escaped his eye. Your heart broke as you denied his assumption.

“no actually, there’s barely anything on here. In fact, these are things you need but…where’s the stuff you would like?” You asked him as you grabbed a pen laying near the sink reminding yourself to scowl jungkook for leaving things on the counter.

“things I…like?” he asked quietly, his mind drifting into deep thought.

Seeing Yoongi glide through the living room you signalled him over. Even though he rolled his eyes in annoyance he made his way to you, wondering what it is you wanted.

“Yoongi, can I please see you list?” You asked as jimin started writing things down. Yoongi passed you his list, his eyes watching you carefully as you looked at it.

“nawh, you guys, its okay too put more – anything you like you can write down,” You said as you put his list on the table. Yoongi looked at you in shock before confusion covered his face.

“anything?” he asked.

“Yeah! Jungkook has a 6ft basketball hop on his list. Usually, I approve the lists beforehand but this time I’ll let you guys have fun. Go nuts, whatever you want mkay!” You smiled as you placed your hand on jimin’s head.  

---

“Okay team. This is the plan.” You said, turning the car off. Here you were at the best shop ever. Towns had everything you could ever need. hybrid needs, human needs, clothes, food – EVERYTHING. So here you sat in the parking lot. Your black van filled with your hybrids, ready and excited to shop for there things.

“Jungkook, your shopping with me. Namjoon, you and jimin will go together and the rest of you will go alone. We’ll meet at register 5 in an hour and a half.” You said, looking at everyone seriously. This wasn’t a game. Oh no, re-stock day was the most intense days ever.

“Understood?” you asked. They all nodded before everyone made their way out of the car, racing towards the shop's doors.

You chased after jungkook, knowing exactly where he was trying to go.

“No, bad bunny” you said as you gripped his arm. Jungkook whined as you got a cart and dragged him to the clothes section.

“Y/n!! let me check if there a new addition out” he pleaded

“We aren’t here to look, we're here to shop and get out. Checking out new additions isn’t on the list so it's not happening today” You stated as you threw things he had on his list in his cart.

“Okay well, can I check if they have my hoop! Sometimes they have one in store” He suggested his excitement clear as he bounced slightly, his smile wide and his hands clenched into fists.

You looked at him with your hands on your hip. The bunny had a knack for not giving up so you knew you’d lose this argument eventually.

“Okay, fine. Go check out if they have your basketball hoop, but if they don’t – you come right back here okay! I'll be here, in the medication section, where you left me. Okay?!” You asked as he squealed with excitement.

He nodded at you waiting for you to give him the all clear.

With one last sigh, you waved him off, watching as he ran away happily.

It had been ten minutes and you suspected your hybrid had gotten distracted, knowing that you shouldn’t have trusted him you started moving out of the hybrid medication aisle, getting ready to hunt for your youngest when-

“Y/n! this man wants to take us away!” Jungkook shouted as he rushed over to you, holding the arm of a hybrid you had never seen before and being followed by who looked like a stray catcher.

They stray hybrid looked at you, his eyes pleading you to help him. Looking at the determination in jungkook’s eyes you soon realised there was no way this stray was being taken away.

“Sorry sir, is there a problem with my hybrids?” You asked as jungkook dragged the strange hybrid behind you, glaring slightly at the neatly kept man. He certainly worked for the government.

“my apologies, I didn’t know they were both your hybrids,” the man said eyeing the dirty stray standing next to your well care for hybrid.

“I just adopted him, that’s why we're here, we're getting him what he needs” You stated giving the man a friendly smile. He looked at you understandingly before nodding his head.

“my apologies then, have a nice day,” he said. Before leaving he shot the unknown boy a dirty look before walking away. You watched him go, making sure he was out of earshot.

“Nice to meet you, I’m y/n” you said as you analysed the boy. He was tall and had ears that resembled your dog hybrid, by the look of his clothes you could tell that he must have been on the streets for a long period of time.

The boy looked nervous, he remained silent as his gooey brown eyes dropped to the floor.

You looked at jungkook who just shrugged at the boy’s behaviour.

” I told him he could stay with us” Jungkook smiled happily. You looked at them in shock not knowing quite what to do. Obviously, you weren’t about to let the hybrid go a night without shelter, but his situation was unknown.

“Do you have a negligent owner?” you asked softly, not wanting to upset the boy. He gulped before nodding his head – jungkook giving him a sympathetic look.

“how long have you been on the streets?” you asked, anger filling your body of the thought of this poor boy not being cared for.

“half…half a year” he whispered his eyes watering. The pain in his voice was enough to have you making a decision on his future. You were going to spoil him as much as you spoiled your other hybrids and love him as much as he would let you.

You sighed before wiping out your phone, people piss you off. If they couldn’t care for a hybrid, they shouldn’t have gotten one. They are half human, they have emotions.

“would you like to stay with us. Say the word and i can adopt you” you asked, your eyes soft as the boy struggled to look at you.

“but…how?”

“Y/n’s got connections! If you’ve been neglected, they look at your last visit to the doctor! And if you haven’t gone in a while, an owner like y/n can take you in because she’s the best!” Jungkook explained enthusiastically.

“a-are you sure? Wouldn’t two hybrids be too many?” he stuttered his eyes wide with amazement.

Jungkook laughed as you gave him a cheeky wink.

“there’s six of us, silly” Jungkook laughed.

“SIX!”

“Yep! And we’ve got room for one more, so what’d ya say?” You asked, your thumb hovering over the call button of your hybrid centre friends.

“i…I would like that” he answered, his eyes dropping back to the floor

“Than its settled, what’s your name and what kinda hybrid are you honey?” you asked him as your phone rung your friend. Bringing the phone to your ear he looked at you and jungkook before gulping and answering.

“er,im a dog hybrid and its taehyung, Kim taehyung”

“Jungkook, go help taehyung pick out some clothes – call Namjoon and tell him were extending the time to two hour- oh hey!” You said to jungkook who nodded at everything you were saying before your friend answered the phone.

“I need you to check out Kim taehyung’s doctor appointments – the boys coming home with me,” You said as the two hybrids walked off to the clothes aisle.

“Is this real? Am I really going to get adopted?” Taehyung asked jungkook as jungkook chucked clothes at him.

“Well duh, Y/ns not just gonna leave you here. And once she’s decided you're going to be a part of our family, there’s no way she’s going to let anyone take you away” Jungkook stated before placing his hand on the boy's shoulder.

“Welcome to the family”

---

As everyone loaded their things into the van, all the hybrids cooed over how adorable taehyung was. Jin was thrilled to have another dog hybrid around and jimin seemed excited to have someone the same age as him.

You smiled as you left the parking lot, the voices behind you getting louder as taehyung conversed with everyone. It was nice to hear them getting along so well with the new addition to the household. You didn’t want to tire him out but the builders you called were still getting his room together, so you would have to stay out a little longer.

Good thing you knew exactly where to take them.

---

“Why are we here?” Yoongi groaned.

“the builders are at our house. y/n said their building taehyung’s room” Namjoon answered as he patted taehyung’s back happily.

“you’re gonna love it! We have a pool and quad bikes!” hoseok said excitedly.

“a-and Y/n is really nice!” Jimin chimed in, knowing how taehyung must feel. Jimin remembered when he first joined the family, hearing from the other hybrids that Y/n was friendly really helped him settle in and now that he knows for himself how great of an owner, he thought he should do his part and help taehyung.

Taehyung tuned in at how genuine each hybrid sounded. He was still completely flabbergasted at how someone could care for six hybrids. The boy always believed that each human had a love cap. And once they were out, that person was no longer capable of loving anything or anyone else. But as he looked at the other boys laughing with each other – clothes on their bodies, the car packed with items they wanted and their love for you evident – he thought that maybe he was wrong.

--

“Hoseok! You need to shift!” You shouted as you packed away the last of your shopping. All the hybrids ran around you, putting their stuff in their specific spots. You smiled at taehyung as he watched in awe at the house’s operation.

“Put your stuff down here, ill take you to your room in a second,” You said as hoseok walked into the kitchen, his face twisted in protest.

“Ugh! Nooo I don’t want to!” he whined as you walked over to the hybrid maintenance cabinet where you kept all the hybrids medication. Each person had their own cabinet filled with health care for when they got sick. Each hybrid has their season of sickness when they need extra vitamins to make sure they’re in tip-top shape.

“The Doctor said three times a day” You stated as you labelled Taehyung’s container, putting everything you bought for him in there.

“Y/n! Y/n!” jungkook yelled as he bounced over, dragging a very afraid jimin behind him.

“I feel fine I swear!” Hoseok answered, hoping he wouldn’t have to go.

“you said that last time and you got sick. I'll take you to the field, you love the field!” You answered, looking at the horse hybrid, there was no way you were going to budge, he was going to shift no matter what!

“Y/n! Y/n! Y/n!” Jungkook repeated bouncing behind you. Taehyung looked between you and jungkook in shock, wondering how you were able to ignore the hybrid behind you.

“I do love the field…” he nodded, finally coming around to the idea of shifting.

“Namjoon, you’re coming too” you yelled to the man sitting on the couch. His ears perked up as he looked at you excitedly.

“Y/N” Jungkook shouted loudly. Taehyung was absolutely floored, if he had shouted at his owner the way jungkook just had he would have been punished, but here you were standing calmly as you addressed Namjoon.

“really?!” Namjoon asked excitedly causing you to laugh. He was a hundred percent the most mature but it was moments like these that you loved, when he let his childish side show you loved it.

“Of course! I haven’t forgotten about you” you answered as he jumped up doing a small happy dance.

“Y/NNNNNN!!!!!”

“both of you go and get ready!” You exclaimed as you shooed them off. The two of them running to their rooms.

“Y/N-“

“YES, my dear hybrid bunny. Whatever is the matter?” you said turning to the boy who had been yelling at you.

“Can I take jimin and taehyung into our gym?” he asked, a pout on his lips. You had to put a lock on the gym room and hide it from jungkook. There was a time when jungkook would live in the gym, it so bad that he would steal dumbbells from the gym and hide them under his pillow, so he could lift in the middle of the night.

“I’m gonna toughen jimin up” he said as he fake boxed jimin’s arm, hitting him softly.

“Hey, don’t hit your brother! You know he doesn’t like that” you said as you pulled the boy from jungkook’s energetic wrath.

“I dunno kook…can you take Jin? Jimin hasn’t shifted in a while so I was thinking of taking him to the fields and taehyung just got here” You explained as you scratched jimin’s ear.

“ugh, fine” he grunted before walking off to find Jin.

“What’s the field?” Taehyung asked shyly as hoseok and Namjoon came back with backpacks.

“well y/n opened up a business. She created a placed where hybrids can shift outside safely and be supervised and cared after” Namjoon explained as he grabbed the car keys.

“Do you wanna come? Even if you don’t have to shift it’s a nice place to relax.” You asked as jimin went to pack his bag.

Taehyung nodded, agreeing to join you.

---

Watching hoseok frolic around you waited outside a changing room for Namjoon to shift so you could collect his clothes. As your lion strolled out you smiled before rubbing his fur. He was stunning, and everyone agreed as they looked at him in astonishment.

You liked to make sure that their shift bodies were just as well kept as their human bodies, they were a half-half after all.

“joonie, we need to get your mane trimmed” you stated before picking up his clothes. With your back turned you saw the lighting behind you change before hearing the voice of one of your workers.

“Hey boss!”

Turning around you saw the glowing skin of Jackson, a very dedicated worker. “Hey Jackson! Do you mind giving Namjoon mane a trim?” you asked as Namjoon walked in circles before stretching his body.

“Of course, I can, I just wanted to say thank for letting me bring my cat to the social den, she’s a lot happier” he stated as he too gave Namjoon a pat. Jackson was without a doubt namjoons favourite worker.

“well she can come anytime and don’t worry about paying, ill cover your membership” you smiled at him.

“Oh- wow, thank you so much, wow I really appreciate it” He gleamed his hand coming to his cheek as he blushed with shock.

“You’ve been with us for years, it’s the least I could do. also, don’t be hesitant to bring her with you when you work. I would hate for her to be separated from you for such a long time” you stated as Namjoon circled you, rubbing his head against your hand.

“Thank you very much, I better take this big boy before he dies from anticipation,” He said with a chuckle.

You laughed before giving Namjoon the signal that he can go. The two of them left as jimin entered the changing room.

“What’s the social den?” Taehyung asked you waited for jimin.

“it's for new hybrids and their owners. You pay a membership and you go and socialise with other hybrids and their owners. It’s a good way to make friends and help your hybrid adjust” You answered.

Taehyung nodded before looking around nervously.

“you...arent gonna make me go are you?” He asked. You laughed before shaking your head.

“I think you’re surrounded by more than enough hybrids at home” you replied. Grabbing jimin’s backpack you pulled out his holding sling and slipped it over your neck like you would a handbag.

“What’s that for?” Taehyung asked.

“full of questions, are we?” you joked “Jimin is a very shy bunny so he prefers to chill with me, this way I don’t have to hold him, and he can hide if he gets anxious”.

A white bunny tried its hardest to push open the changing room door. You quickly opened it for him with a soft giggle as you bent down. Opening the pouch for jimin to hop into, you helped him out adjusting the sling so he sat comfortably next to your stomach.

Taehyung smiled as he watched jimins head pop out of the sling.

“Let’s sit and drink tea like the rich bitches we are”

--

As you sat and watched Namjoon play with the other lion hybrids at the observation café taehyung sighed in contentment. You checked on jimin who was having a little nap.

“You’re right, this is relaxing,” Taehyung said “So you run this place? Is that how our house is so big?”

Your heart swelled when he said ‘our house’ it was nice to know he was coming to terms with the adoption.

“well I run this place, but It doesn’t cost to come here. The only thing that requires paying for is the grooming and this cafe. But day-care is free. Our house was given to me by my late grandmother, she left me the house and Namjoon” You explained.

Taehyung played with his mug as he nodded his head.

“so, do you do a lot of hybrid work?” He asked as he watched the people in the café, their smiles matching the ones he had seen on his hybrid brothers. He had never seen this much happiness before. It was odd for him.

“I do own seven hybrids” You laughed “it would be strange if I didn’t try and help out where I could” you shrugged.

Taehyung hmmed in agreement before taking a bite of his sandwich. You were going to as him a question about his past when you saw hoseok coming back from his trail run.

“Looks like its time to go home” You said before carefully standing up trying not to wake your sleeping but failing miserably.

--

When you got home you immediately took the gym keys away from jungkook much to his dismay.

As the hybrids gathered in the lounge to watch re-runs of keeping up with the Kardashians a letter that sat on the counter caught your eye. Its electric blue envelope sent shivers down your spine, the design of it bring back memories of someone you would rather forget.

As you picked it up, the laughs of the hybrids halted as they sensed the change in your demeanour. Reading the letter, your stomach filled with dread. The news the letter presented made you want to vomit in horror.

“what’s wrong?” Namjoon asked worriedly as the seven boys waited for you to explain. Turning around to them you let out a huff of frustration.  

“Aunt May is coming over”

[lisinfleur]

Mishaps - Chapter 05: Pretty Little Lies

Author's notes: I believe we are approaching the end of this story. I don't know, it is growing by itself hahaha I hope you guys enjoy!

Warnings: Some angst, some disgusting things like puke, mold, Aethelwulf being a bastard, stuff like that... 18+.

Words: 2720

Without a proper space in his office, Aethelwulf had to spread his investigation post-its and stuff all over his room. Colored lines were connecting a pin to another, creating different threads from the docks to the Lothbrok Trading Company head office, where almost all the colors were finishing their ways. Each Ragnarsson had his own color and a pin marking his position at the company was also marking the initial spot of the thread that would pass through the whole sort of business, Aethelwulf was sure that Ragnarsson was connected with.

Black for Ivar - passing through the whole chain of nocturne clubs and houses that family had under their reign. Blue for Sigurd - this thread kinda messed up, passing through different points, always crossing pins where the other threads were already tied, not really delimitating any real place for the fourth son of the line of heirs of Ragnar Lothbrok. Red for Ubbe - this one crossing the docks and all the transportation of goods and stuff the company was making. A golden line for Björn, the one he wanted the most behind bars - his thread was the longest due to the multiple trips the older of the Ragnarssons was always doing, visiting probable allies in their shady negotiations covered by the international relations of the company.

But it was the green thread that was straight connected to your case in a different corkboard: passing through the whole city map, swirling around every pin marking a drug dealing spot and then stretching itself to a secondary board where it would connect to your picture, the green thread started on Hvitserk's picture near the Lothbrok Trading Co. head office.

From all his brothers, Hvitserk was the only one to open a small breach through what Aethelwulf was expecting to catch all the others and you - whose informations were entirely spread over the secondary corkboard, connected by a white thread - were his bigger mistake, his stumble. The first one in years watching every member of that damn family seeking for his door to a good and fat retirement.

Heahmund, of course, had rejected his theories about Hvitserk's involvement in your kidnapping - that ass-licker would never see things the same way Aethelwulf was able to see! However, his stupid suppositions about a possible escape - once you were living out of your own identity for too long and could probably have Hvitserk's help to find a place to hide and be yourself - kept Hvitserk into the case and it was enough for Aethelwulf to collect some more clues to his own investigation. Starting by the drug spot near your work, now marked with a big red "X" made with a permanent marker on the map: the place was completely shut down not far from your disappearance, which made Aethelwulf think Hvitserk could be there for taking care of this closure when he accidentally stumbled on you.

Some other places on the map had the same red "X" marked on them - other spots Hvitserk was closing. In contrast, no new spots were being opened, causing Aethelwulf to think maybe the boy was thinking about reducing his negotiations to the big fishes only. Ubbe was also doing the same contraction movement: some small contracts were closed by the company, reducing its suspicious routes and increasing the legal ones with a bigger volume. Maybe something connected to the big wash machine that the whole company was, washing their money for decades until now. Maybe the heirs were afraid of losing their empire and were reducing their activities to maintain the fortune instead of increasing it.

It wasn't of Aethewulf's business what the little pigs were doing with the old boar's heritage. What he knew was his time was running short. If the little bastards decided to clean their business then he would have no reason to put them behind bars and the whole shit they did for years would be unpunished.

And there goes his retirement...

No way!

After Heahmund assumed the head of the investigation, they had stopped visiting the Ragnarssons apartments. And Aethelwulf received a notification about the attempt of installing cameras near the gardens of Hvitserk's building parking lot.

But no one would reprehend him for having cameras installed on your garden. Not that he was really thinking about you coming back home as if nothing had happened - the way Heahmund was expecting to happen, putting all his coins on a voluntary disappearance theory that sounded stupid from the head to the tiny toe. Aethewulf was just sure Hvitserk didn't visit your home before your disappearance and knowing you as he knew - and God, he knew you! - that house would be the first safe place you would think to hide from a captor.

In whatever case, that place would be surely a spot for you and, as soon as you decided to show yourself, he would track your steps and then, bang...

Hvitserk would be his.

That was his initial idea, but after more than two months of waiting, Aethelwulf wasn't really looking at those cameras anymore. He wasn't expecting you to appear. To be honest, if you weren't dead, he was already starting to think you could be involved in their schemes. Or really disappeared with Hvitserk's help. It wouldn't be so unlikely.

"Shit..." Aethelwulf cursed.

He was losing the track again. It was becoming cold and Heahmund was already talking about making your case an archive. He had to find something, he had to...

Beep... Beep... Beep...

"Fucking shitty rats! When I find this damn girl I gonna move her to a fucking apartment where I can be sure no fucking rat will... Wait..."

He was already pissed off from rats of your garden triggering the movement sensor of his cameras. But this time, the images on his screen weren't a rat. Surely it wasn't a rat.

"Eureka..."

His eyes couldn't really believe in your figure standing at the door, opening the house that was closed for months! But there you were, opening the door, coming inside, giving him the major chance to discover everything about Hvitserk's involvement with your case on first hand.

Aethewulf picked up his car keys, transferring the video from his camera to his cellphone to follow your steps properly. His heart was rushed into his chest. His mind working faster than he could really follow his thoughts.

To follow her. To be sure she's at Hvitserk's. To make an anonymous denounce to the stupid channel Heahmund left him responsible for. To be the one to broke Hvitserk's house. To expose those bastards...

Aethelwulf's lips curved in a smile.

"I got you, little pig. Time to make some bacon..."

"We're already together for months, Hvitserk. And they aren't on your back anymore. It's not like I have anyone to care about me for longer than a month. I just want to pick up some of my stuff, to see my plants, my things... I had food in my pans and my garden must be utterly dead by now."

Your voice echoed in his room while Hvitserk was near the window, both of his hands in his waist, a frowned expression in his face while he was shaking his head no, lightly.

"You don't understand..." he said, sighing.

"What I don't understand, Hvitserk? What is this for you, after all? Am I still a kidnaped person? A prisoner? I thought we had passed this phase."

In other situations, you would be thinking you went mad by those words. But now, did it really matter anyway? You loved him, he loved you, you knew who he was and you wouldn't tell anyone. Why keeping you locked?

When would he trust you?

Should he trust you after all?

Hvitserk could feel something was hidden about you and maybe it was exactly the reason why he didn't have felt safe enough to let you go free or create some kind of stupid excuse for the police to leave your heels and his about the time you went missing. Nevertheless, he had to agree with you: the longer the time you were missing the harder would be to create some kind of excuse for this.

And you knew you could deal with the police better than he could imagine - after all, you still had the "tired of not being myself" card on your sleeves. Maybe, if he could trust you to a simple thing like going to your house to pick up your plants and some clothes for you to stop using his shirts everywhere around his house, you could trust him with the whole story of your life and the fact that you could free him from any stupid charge with a snap of your fingers.

"Annie, things are bigger than that! If something goes wrong, my brothers will be on the line after me. Ubbe is trying to get himself clean. So am I... It could ruin everything for us!" he insisted.

And you felt your eyes filling with those silly tears that were coming from nowhere, because of anything in the last weeks.

You never were so emotional.

And your period wasn't coming...

One more reason for you to want to leave that house to buy a pregnancy test and be sure of your suspicions. You didn't want to tell him you could be pregnant without even telling him your true name!

But your tears caused Hvitserk to sigh.

He couldn't lock you forever and he knew that. If you were so sure you could go, maybe you should have a plan...

"What if the police find you?" he asked looking at you.

"I'll send you a message and tell them I wanted to leave for a while. I'll pull the damn situation on me. I'll invent something, Hvitserk! I won't fucking deliver your whole family. I just want some of my panties!" you shouted, sitting, completely annoyed with those ridiculous and unjustified sobs cutting your words.

You hated to be so emotional and it was only making you want to cry a little more! Shit!

"I could..." he started and you rolled your eyes.

"Hvitserk, you couldn't go there and pick them up for me. How will you explain the fact that you have the keys to a missing person's house?"

He sighed, annoyed. Defeated.

And you got up, holding his shoulders, looking into his eyes.

"Trust me," you said, catching his eyes on yours, "We cannot be together if you can't trust me, Hvitserk. I know your secrets and I won't tell them to anyone because I love you. And I don't want these secrets to separate you from me. You need to believe me. I cannot be locked here forever! What kind of relationship will be this? What if I get pregnant someday?"

A low card, you knew. But what could you do?

His expression became surprised, not only for you to be thinking about a future by his side in such proportions, but also because he knew you were right.

"Will you ask me to have our child into your room to be sure no one will find about my records at the hospital? Then what? Tell our son or daughter he cannot go to school or have any friends because no one can know his mom exists in his father's life? When we tell a lie, it becomes bigger and bigger and bigger until it becomes the truth or until it explodes into something pretty harder to control."

You knew exactly what you were talking about. Just as the lies you were telling together to the world, you had your own lies you wanted to break with him.

You just needed him to trust you. Then, you would feel safe to prevent that enormous clock-bomb to explode in between the two of you.

"Fine," he muttered, causing your heart to rush into your chest. "Go. Go to your house and come back here as soon as you can. You're asking me to trust you... Please... Don't prove me wrong."

He was afraid. But that was the final proof you needed.

Hvitserk gave you the keys to your house and your cellphone. And you cupped his face, kissing him softly after getting dressed in the clothes from the day you disappeared.

"I won't disappoint you, babe," you promised, kissing his lips one more time. "Before the night falls, I'll be back."

Months since the last time you saw the streets, but yet, nothing was really calling your attention. You just wanted to do things right and end up that worried expression you left on Hvitserk's face. So, you ignored the whole stuff around, coming out of his building to see you weren't that far from your work all that time. You knew how to go home and you took the shorter way, reaching your house almost an hour after leaving Hvitserk's apartment. You opened your door looking around to be sure no one would see you coming in - and almost throwing your whole soul up in the living room floor.

"Fuck!"

The whole place was smelling rotten food and you were sure there was a whole new ecosystem on the pans over your cooker: two months after you cooked that meat and vegetables, the whole thing was covered in a living fungus you decided not to touch or trying to clean up: everything went to a bag and you tied the bag up, trying not to throw up again.

Surely you wouldn't be able to be there for too long, so you went to your room, made a small bag with your clothes, picked up the money you had hidden into your house and the charger of your phone, some of your stuff and documents - they were useful to your objectives after all.

With everything you needed, you left the house after locking the door and passed through a drug store, buying the tests you needed and leaving the surroundings of your house before someone known could see you.

In a public bathroom, you made the tests following the instructions of the boxes, waiting anxiously for the results.

And there they were...

  Two lines. A cross.

You felt your eyes full of tears and you couldn't really explain why. You couldn't say if it was the fear of the unknown world you were going into or if it was the sensation of getting into a whole unexpected situation, the doubts about his reaction, your fear of his reaction to the truth you were intending to tell him. Or if it was the simple sensation of knowing someone was growing into your belly the way you thought would never happen in your life. A mixture of feelings caused you to cry for almost half of an hour locked on that bathroom.

But when you came out you were sure of what you had to do. You picked up the tests placing them on your bag and headed up to Hvitserk's apartment. You would talk to him and tell everything. From the very beginning of your life to the very end on those tests.

For the sake of that innocent into you, you would make things clear and put an end to that mystery.

 With his car stopped near the entrance of Hvitserk's building, Aethelwulf saw with a grin when you came to the door, talking to the doorman. In a few minutes, Hvitserk came, kissing your forehead and pulling you in after looking around, clearly trying to see if someone was watching them or seeing you coming in.

With his cellphone, Aethelwulf took the right pictures of Hvitserk pulling you by the hand and looking around, suppressing the ones where he was kissing your forehead - your relationship wasn't useful to him.

With a satisfied smile in his face, Aethelwulf called the denounce channel, speaking while swirling the handcuffs in his hand, anxious...

"I have information about the girl you're looking for. Mary Ann Watson came into our building at this moment with a dweller. Yes... His name? Oh, Hvitserk Ragnarsson, sir. He was pulling her by the hand. I'm sure it was the girl. Yes, I can give you the address...".

It was a matter of time now...

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[darks-ink]

Disinterred CH.15

Chapter 15: Clean It Up

And Amity Park… Amity Park was used to dealing with the unusual. The impossible. The non-existent. So, really. Having a ghost and a clone of said ghost testify for the crimes of another ghost… It wasn’t that far out of there.

(Tumblr hates links and I want this to appear in the tags so… for author notes/full fic summary/links to the other chapters/mirror links to AO3 and FFnet, click here)

“We need to talk to detective Payton.”

The woman behind the desk quirked an eyebrow at him, then glanced at the group behind him. “If you have a crime to report, you can speak to whichever officer is available.”

“It’s more complicated than that,” Danny insisted. “It involves a case he was working on.”

She opened her mouth again, clearly intending to shoo him away. Jazz cut her off, however. “It’s really important, please. Can you just contact him and tell him that the Fentons want to talk with him.”

The lady glared at them shortly, but complied. The call involved a brief back-and-forth, but once Payton had heard the words “Fenton” and “case” he seemed to have made up his mind.

Sighing, the woman at the desk put the phone down again. “He’ll be here in a few moments.”

“Thank you.” Danny grinned, just a little too pleased with the small victory. Hey, he would take whatever he got right now. Any distraction from the upcoming conversation was more than welcome.

When Payton appeared he looked more than a little resigned at the sight of their group of teenagers. “I thought that the Fentons wanted to talk to me?”

“We’re temporary stand-ins for his parents,” Sam said with a shrug. “They’re… occupied.”

Payton sighed but, to his credit, didn’t otherwise react. He simply led the four of them to an empty room so they could talk.

“What is this about, then? Because I’m guessing that the ‘case’ you wanted to talk about is yours?”

“Yeah,” Danny confirmed with a nod. “We… We kind of left our some details.”

“You are aware that it’s illegal to lie to the police?” Payton crossed his arms, a mild glare send towards the teens.

“We didn’t lie!” Sam exclaimed, throwing out her hands. “We just didn’t tell the entire truth.”

“Is that so?” Payton didn’t look particularly convinced. Danny didn’t really blame him. In fact, he kind of felt bad for the officer. His involvement in the case certainly made it a lot harder than it had any right to be. Ghosts, in general, made work for the police difficult.

“When we talked about my… ghostly nature,” Danny started hesitantly, “we implied that my… more ghostly appearance was just a one time thing. It’s not.”

Payton nodded, now looking slightly more believing. “Is this related to your glowing green eyes during the confrontation with your parents?”

“Uh, yeah. I can trigger the whole transformation on command, but the glowing eyes happens for all sorts of reasons. Usually when I’m using my powers or when I’m experiencing really strong emotions.” Danny shrugged. “I kind of… use my more ‘ghostly’ form as a disguise of sorts, so people don’t recognize me.”

“But what would you need a disguise for?” Payton squinted at him, suspicion clear on his face. “Nothing illegal, I hope?”

Danny snorted in response, leaning back in his chair. “Hardly,” he said, before tapping into his powers to make his eyes glow on purpose. “Come on, it can’t be that hard to figure out.”

Payton scrutinized him for a few long moments, eyes gliding over him. Then the man sat forward, arms resting on the table. “You’re saying that you are Phantom? Well, that certainly explains why you laughed when I said that if Phantom thought you were okay, it was probably safe to trust that judgment.”

“What can I say, ghost hunting runs in the family.” Danny smirked, a rather Phantom-like expression, to drive the point home.

The detective continued to eye him, then sighed. “You do realize that this isn't going to change the decisions we made last meeting, right?”

“Yeah,” Danny agreed with a shrug. “I mean, I guess I’ll try for college but if I can’t get in I’ll just work for my parents. I’m already following their footsteps as Phantom anyway, might as well give inventing a shot too.”

Then his expression fell again. “But to get back to the original topic… I’m not just telling this for fun. It’s a secret for a reason.”

“Yes, I suppose it is,” Payton agreed, sitting back again. “What is it then?”

Danny frowning, running through his options. Apparently he took too long, because Jazz spoke up. “He’s not the only one. Not the only one with a human and ghost appearance, I mean.”

“And you’re telling me this because… you don’t think they deserve their secret if you didn’t get to keep yours?” Payton queried, cocking an eyebrow at him.

“No,” Danny bit out. “I’m telling you because he’s a jackass who uses his powers for bad purposes!” The vivid green light from his eyes flickered on the desk in front of him, but he ignored it. “He hurts people, he manipulates people! And he has gone too far!”

“And who is he, then?” Payton seemed genuinely intrigued. Apparently Danny’s rant had convinced him to at least play along.

“In human form or ghost form?” Tucker piped up. “Because he looks drastically different and he has no problem flaunting that fact.”

“In his ghost form he calls himself Plasmius.” Sam crossed her arms. “But the public usually calls him the Wisconsin Ghost, I believe.”

“The blue skinned vampire ghost?” Payton frowned. “I’ve heard of him, yes. Known to cause problems, picks fights with… Phantom.” The last word he said more quietly, realization of Phantom really being a 16 year old apparently striking him.

“That’s him,” Danny confirmed. “His human form is also well-known. Old family friend of my parents, current mayor of the town…”

Payton grunted. “You’re saying that the Vlad Masters is a ghost like you?”

“How do you think he won the election?” Jazz questioned with a scoff. “He didn’t stand a chance until he overshadowed most of the voters.”

“And that’s just one of many sketchy things he has done with his powers.” Tucker’s jaw visibly tightened at the thought of everything the man had done. Of what he had tried to do to him. Danny was glad for friends like these. “Stealing money, overshadowing business rivals to take over their companies, attempted murder of Jack Fenton…”

“Kidnapping Maddie Fenton, twice. Kidnapping Danny at least that often, including trapping him in ghost-proof bindings and electrocuting him,” Sam continued. “Sending potentially dangerous ghosts to Amity Park, in the hopes to either kill Jack or hurt Danny.”

“And that’s not even to mention that he tried to clone me,” Danny joined in. Then with a grimace, he added, “And emotionally abusing the one clone that survived. Well, as far as a ghost can survive, of course.”

Payton blinked, apparently stunned by the information overload. Then the last part processed, and he frowned. “He cloned you?”

“Not very successfully, but yes.” Danny shrugged, a faux casual air about him. “She didn’t quite come out right, and she wasn’t stable. But she’s with my parents now, and we managed to save her.”

“Which is also why they’re not here,” Tucker explained, leaning on Danny’s shoulder. “Hence Sam and I as the replacement parents.”

Payton remained quiet for a few moments. Then he sighed. “You are aware of how bat-shit insane this sounds?”

“Welcome to my life,” Danny said with a snort. “Or, well, you know what I mean.”

“We can’t just take your word for all of this,” Payton insisted. “It sounds… Well, it sounds too bizarre to come up with, but that doesn’t mean that it’s true.”

“And we can provide you with whatever proof you need.” Sam glowered at him. “We just need your assurance that you’re gonna look into it, and that you’ll do your best to arrest Vlad.”

Payton sighed, looking like he was very much regretting his involvement in this case. Again. “Of course. That’s literally my job, miss Manson. Although I do wonder how you expect us to arrest and contain a ghost.”

“Inventions to restrict his powers exist,” Tucker supplied. “You can probably move to arrest him the normal way, since he won’t be expecting you to know. Use some ghost-proof cuffs and you’ll have him before he realizes.”

“Fine. It’s a deal. I’ll need all evidence you have of his crimes, including witness reports,” Payton instructed, looking like he was trying to get back in control of the situation.

Danny nodded, then pulled out his phone. “I’ll call the Red Huntress. She was one of the people Vlad manipulated, and he straight-up tried to hire her to catch the clone when she escaped.”

Looking he was going to regret asking, Payton nonetheless asked. “I thought the Red Huntress didn’t like Phantom? Or ghosts in general?”

“Misunderstanding,” Danny explained, waving Payton’s concern off with his hand. “We got everything figured out, and she knows of both my identities.”

“Of course,” Payton groaned. “And I’m guessing you know who she is, then?”

“We all do.” Sam grinned at the clearly overworked detective.

The detective only groaned, but didn’t say anything. Danny figured he had a pretty good idea of what the agent was feeling like.

But it was for a good cause.

It took a few days to gather all the evidence the police required. The witness reports alone took a considerable chunk of time, considering the sheer amount of people in Amity Park alone that knew about Vlad’s shady business. Aside from the Fentons (all five of them) and Sam and Tucker, Valerie also had to be included.

And sadly, that was easier said than done, as she needed to reveal her identity for the report to count. After all, a judge wouldn’t just accept the statement of a masked vigilante that no one knew.

Thankfully she trusted Danny’s judgment (and, of course, the judgments of his friends and Jazz) and allowed Payton and his team to know. They were… less than pleased to discover that she, too, was a teenager.

Knowing that it had been Vlad who pushed her into ghost hunting in the first place… Well, that eased their moods a little. Besides, she and Phantom now worked together – and they trusted Danny to keep the people of Amity safe. From ghosts, at least. Human crime… Well, that was their job.

Additionally, there was some trouble with Dani’s witness reports. Law wasn’t exactly made with cloning in mind. Legally, Danielle Fenton didn’t exist.

But then, neither did ghosts.

And Amity Park… Amity Park was used to dealing with the unusual. The impossible. The non-existent.

So, really. Having a ghost and a clone of said ghost testify for the crimes of another ghost… It wasn’t that far out of there.

Most of the people involved who knew enough about the case to know that three of the people involved were ghosts… Well, they were just glad that the ghosts were solving their issues like normal people. Instead of, you know, blasting each other to bits on the streets.

When Danny first heard people mention it, it had been some of the other officers of Payton’s team. People who knew he was a ghost, but who hadn’t been told about his Phantom alter-ego. He immediately thought back of all the times he and Vlad had brawled and burst into laughter.

The officers looked at him like he had gone crazy, eyebrows raised. Between giggles, Danny managed to explain himself. “You- You really don’t know the half of it.”

That hadn’t really explained anything to the cops, but Payton coaxed them back to work before they could question Danny. The detective attempted to glare the boy into behaving himself, but failed once more. Now that he knew what the boy had faced off against, he wasn’t surprised.

Finally enough evidence had been gathered. The cops set out, armed with anti-ghost weaponry and ghost-proof cuffs. A cell had been prepared beforehand, covered by a ghost shield provided by FentonWorks. A special one, they assured, which would hold even the most powerful and skilled of ghosts.

Payton double-checked his gear. Then he gave the start signal, allowing his officers to pour into the mansion.

Within minutes the team returned, guiding Vlad Masters in their middle. The man was dressed, as always, in an impeccable suit. He frowned at Payton when his guides stopped him in front of the detective.

“Sir, with all due respect, but what on Earth is happening here?”

Payton offered the man a lopsided smile. Then in one swift movement he cuffed Vlad’s wrists together, preventing his escape.

“Vlad Masters, also known as Vlad Plasmius, you are under arrest for… Well, for a lot of crimes.” His smile grew a little wider, a little more genuine. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can be used against you in court.”

Vlad’s eyes widened, his gaze shifting between his bound wrists and the police officers surrounding them. Payton ignored him, continuing with his whole rights speech.

“Wait, no,” Vlad pleaded. “You must be mistaken- I have never heard of a name like ‘Plasmius’ before.”

“Save it for court.” Payton shoved the man forward, towards the van that would transport him. Several officers, all armed with ectoplasmic weaponry, would ride with him. The cuffs should prevent him from using his powers to escape, but better safe than sorry.

Then he turned towards the rest of the officers still waiting. He inclined his head towards the mansion that stood before them, looming in the approaching dark.

“Well then, let’s see how many sketchy things we can find in here. Sources say that he has an underground lab hidden, like some kind of supervillain.” He grinned at the crowd of police. “First one to find and enter it without disturbing actual evidence gets a reward.”

He clapped his hands together. “Ready, set. Go!”

And then the officers were off, leaving Payton to observe. The boy had been right. Arresting Vlad had been easy, as the man hadn’t expected them in the slightest.

How clever he thought himself. What a sham.

The Summer vacation hadn’t done much to calm Casper High’s rumor mill. The turbulent arrest of ex-mayor Vlad Masters right after the start of said vacation had spurred on all rumors. Not much was known about it, but that didn’t stop the teenagers. They whittled away, discovered the smallest details. Any slip-ups were gladly accepted and brought into the rumors.

So it wasn’t much of a surprise that they discovered that Danny Fenton had been involved as well. Not as a perpetrator, oh no.

As a victim.

Which, of course, combined well with the previous rumors of him being a ghost. It didn’t take long for the first theories to emerge, suggesting that Vlad was his killer. That he had played a critical role in the death of Danny Fenton.

And so when the school year started, against all odds… The rumors hadn’t died off. Quite the opposite. Even more people than before believed that the boy, now in his final year of school, was a ghost.

So they kept their eyes open for his arrival.

Eventually, their wait was rewarded. The doors of the school opened, and in the opening he stood.

Lanky, with unbrushed but shiny black hair. Icy blue eyes that, ironically, sparkled with life. A surprisingly healthy gloss to his pale skin. A playful but kind smile on his face. For once, he looked well-rested. No bags under his eyes.

Perhaps… Perhaps Vlad Masters really had been responsible for his death. Perhaps Danny Fenton could finally rest easy, knowing that the man was finally arrested.

His outfit was much like the usual.

The girl he had his arm wrapped around… much less so.

She, unlike Danny, looked uncertain. Shaky. A red beanie sat perched on her head, but messy black hair still spilled out of it.

Her eyes, blue as the skies, glanced around the entrance hall with vigor. She looked guarded, like she was expecting someone to suddenly attack her.

She had her hands stuck in the pockets of her oversized blue hoodie. A crease in her brow suggested, however, that said hands were clenched into fists.

Standing right next to Danny Fenton, it was very very clear that she looked almost exactly like him. A little younger, perhaps, but undeniably identical.

The crowd parted the let the two through. But they remained nearby, hovering around the two. Waiting. Watching.

In the end, it was Dash Baxter who decided that he’d had enough. He stepped forward, breaking from the line and into the circle of personal space that had been granted to Danny and his… whoever she was.

“Hey Fenton,” he bit, stressing the last name of the ghostly teen. “Who’s this?”

“Oh hey Dash,” Danny greeted as he turned to face the other boy. He pulled the girl next to him a little closer to his side, drawing a displeased hiss from her. “This is Danielle, or Dani.”

“With an i,” the girl muttered under her breath, barely audible.

“Okaaay.” Dash frowned, looking between the two. “That still didn’t answer my question of who she is.”

“Oh, right.” Danny flapped his free hand. “She’s my dead sister.”

Dash froze up, and sharp intakes of breath could be heard from everywhere in the crowd. “She’s your what?”

“My dead sister,” Danny repeated, finally releasing the girl to reach towards his locker. Then he looked over his shoulder at the crowd and grinned.

And stuck his arm right through the still closed locker door.

“Funny how that works, huh?” he said, with his arm still waving through his locker. He looked like was searching for something without being able to see it.

Dani, meanwhile, seemed to have gotten over her nerves. She leaned back against the lockers, standing right next to Danny. She was still eyeing the crowd, however, a little warily.

Soft mutters could be heard from the crowd, but no one had a real response. Sure, everyone had been convinced that Danny was a ghost. Hell, Dash had even seen the boy go intangible before.

But this was undeniable proof. And it was a lot less feeble than a whiffed punch by a jock.

Finally Dash got his thoughts back in order, though. “So why’s she here now?”

“Well,” Danny hummed as he finally pulled his arm out of the locker again. Held in his hand were several books for school. “You guys all knew I was a ghost anyway, so she didn’t have to hide anymore.”

He turned back to face his once-bully with a lopsided grin on his face. Then he shrugged. “Besides, where else is a ghost going to get an education?”

[laurens-lil-fics]

Hallucinate - Matt Murdock x Powered! Reader Part 4

Series Summary: When members of a criminal organization start flooding precincts all over New York, turning themselves in, Daredevil must investigate to see what new player has them running for the hills.

Chapter Summary: A couple days of radio silence makes Matt worry his new partner may do something rash. His solution? A sushi dinner downtown. But an uninvited guest could turn the whole night around.

Word Count: 2597

Warnings: Major angst, cursing, kidnapping

Author’s note: I thought this chapter would be hella short but it is, in fact, hella long. Dont worry, yall will get some answers soon. 

The third time was, in fact, not the charm. Neither was the fifth, or the seventh.

By the eighth call, (Y/n) finally answered, mumbling a simple command to leave her alone before hanging up.

Matt sighed deeply, repressing the urge to throw the burner phone out the window and start scouring the city for her heart beat.

It had been two days since the incident at the docks. She had refused to let him try to get her to ‘her place,’ insisting she didn’t trust him with that information.

When he tried convincing her to let him treat her wound she only pushed him away, eventually using what little energy she had left to fly off and leave him in the shipping container where they had taken refuge.

Both Daredevil and Matt Murdock hadn’t heard from (Y/n), which understandably put him on edge. 

Karen insisted it was because he had taken the charade too far and let himself get close to her.

He insisted it was because someone powerful enough to rip a yacht in half was on the loose in Hell’s Kitchen, unsupervised and seething. 

She had the addresses of the warehouses Mr. Mackie tipped Matt off to, she could have easily gone on her own to find Blum and kill him. Shit, he was probably dead already.

Groaning to himself, Matt ran his fingers over the case file he was supposed to be reading for a fourth time. He was too distracted to focus on anything that didn’t have to do with (Y/n) or Blum or anyone else involved with the two of them.

By the time he had forced himself to finish the case file, it was already noon.

He reached for his personal phone this time, deciding a call from Matt Murdock was the better approach. On the third ring she answered.

“Hello...?” Her voice was raspy, worn, like she had been crying or screaming, maybe a mixture of both.

“Hey stranger...” he smiled to himself, hearing her chuckle over the line, “haven’t heard from you in a while... everything okay?”

He could’ve sworn he heard her mumble something about him being mindreader before she responded. “Yeah... I’ve just had a lot on my mind and I haven’t felt like talking to anyone...”

“Well if it’ll help, I’m free tonight... Maybe venting about it will help you feel better?” He offered, his fingers tapping anxiously against his desk as he awaited her response.

“I dunno...” she sighed, “It’s a lot... and I don’t wanna bore you with the details. I’m not one to dump my problems onto other people.”

That would explain her reluctance to work with him.

“It’s not ‘dumping your problems’ if I’m offering to let you vent to me... plus as a lawyer, any and all ability to get bored was beaten out of me at law school.”

(Y/n) chuckled again, then the line went quiet. Matt didn’t break the silence, hoping she was taking that time to consider his offer.

“Where did you wanna meet...?”

Matt smiled softly, leaning back into his chair. “Theres this sushi place downtown, it’s small but the foods good... you eat sushi?”

“When it’s in my budget, yeah.” she responded.

Matt assured her he would cover it, though it took some convincing on her part to allow it. Once he gave her the address, he hung up. Now he just had to come up with a line of questioning that would be the most inconspicuous. 

Matt arrived just a couple minutes before (Y/n), worried if he showed up late even by a minute it would rub her the wrong way.

Why was he so worried? He told himself she’d open up to him more if she was in a good mood; that she’d be less likely to kill someone if he put her in a good head space.

From his moist palms he knew he was lying to himself.

He heard her walking up the block towards the restaurant, but still acted surprised when she lightly bumped him before telling him hello.

He could hear the fabric of a skirt brushing over her knees, the light click of her kitten heels, and he could smell just a hint of sweet perfume lingering on her skin.

“It’s a little more casual than I expected...” she trailed off, leaning a bit more into Matt as they entered the restaurant. 

“I’m sure you look beautiful... no one’s really going to mind if you come in a bit overdressed.” he assured her. He realized he had called her beautiful once he felt the heat rise to her cheeks. Matt Murdock sucked at playing it cool.

The two sat down in the corner of the restaurant, neither really knowing how to start the conversation once they had ordered their drinks.

“Okay... then I’ll start...” Matt cleared his throat, leaning in closer to her, “I haven’t known you very long... but you’re very sweet... I enjoy spending time with you. I just want to do what I can to make sure you’re alright... and I can’t do that if I don’t know what’s going on with you...”

The waitress interrupted them, bringing them their drinks and jotting down their orders, (Y/n)’s heart hammering in her chest the whole time.

Once she had left, (Y/n) sighed softly began fiddling with the wrapper from her straw.

“You know how I told you I went to school for photo journalism?” the nod from Matt prompted her to continue. “I never graduated... When I was working on my degree one of my professors told me I’d have to go out and take pictures for a big story if I wanted a real job... so I did...”

Matt cocked an eyebrow at this, “And what did you find?” he pressed.

“Nothing good...” She mumbled, glancing around the room, “I found out this company that had branched into the city my college was in... it was doing a lot of really shady stuff... But once they found out what I had they made my life hell.”

She stopped there, why she refused to say more, Matt didn’t know.

“And that made it harder for you to attend classes?”

(Y/n) hummed in agreement, her voice wavering for a moment.

“Part of me knows I did the right think trying to find the truth... but I also know if I hadn’t seen what I did my life would be so much easier... I wanna go back to school, I wanna finish my degree, but no one will hire me without it and I can’t pay for school without money... I ruined my own life...”

“That’s not true... Hey, it’s not true.” He reached forward, searching for her hand for a moment before gently holding it in his. 

“You did what you thought was right... you didn’t make that company do whatever it is they did, you didn’t force their hands. You only tried to expose it so people wouldn’t get hurt.”

(Y/n) was silent, save for a couple soft sniffles here and there. Matt could tell she was trying to fight back tears, had he known this was under the hard exterior he had seen during his nights with her as Daredevil, he would have opted to talk with her somewhere more private.

“You’re a lawyer... What do you do when the bad people don’t get what they deserve...? What do you do when you know they’ve hurt people, that they deserve to be punished, but they just... they’re not?”

Matt would be a hypocrite to tell her it was best to turn the other cheek. Shit, he spent his nights in a devil costume beating up people who got away with whatever crimes they had committed. People who the justice system just couldn’t stop.

But he also couldn’t tell her to keep fighting them, that could set something off inside her head, something that would give her that good old Frank Castle mentality.

“I may not look it, but I’m a praying man... sometimes you just have to pray that someone else will step in and give those people what they deserve.” That was a happy middle, right...?

(Y/n) slowly pulled her hand away, the sound of her wiping at her eyes not lost on him. “Sometimes prayers aren’t enough...”

Matt shrugged his shoulders, a soft sigh escaping his parted lips. “You’re right... but it’s still important to have hope... otherwise what they did to you will eat you up for the rest of your life and you’ll never move on.”

She seemed to be pondering what he said, all while refusing to look at him. All that pain, all that anger, Matt knew as well as anyone it wouldn’t go away in one night. But maybe this was a step in the right direction.

This time, she reached over, taking hold of his and giving it a gentle squeeze. She murmured a small thank you, to which Matt returned the intimate gesture and brushed his thumb over her knuckles.

The two frantically adjusted themselves once their food arrived, Matt was a bit ashamed that he had lost him composure the way he did.

The conversation became more lighthearted as the meal progressed, a great weight having been lifted off the two of them once they finally addressed the elephant in the room, or at least the elephant that only Matt seemed to be aware about.

This whole time Matt had been trying to figure out why (Y/n) had been after this Blum character, trying to find a way to ease her out of feeling like she had to kill him. Now he had a vague sense of what had happened, and was comfortable knowing his words had some sort of impact on her.

“So you really took Greek to impress a girl...? Guys really do that?”

Matt laughed and scratched at the back of his head, feeling bashful at the mention of Elektra and the lengths he had gone to so he could win her over.

“Yes, guys do that, Ms. (L/n). You’d be surprised just how many guys do, I bet you dated a guy back in the day who did the same thing.”

(Y/n) snorted at his assumption and washed down her last bite of fish with a gulp of her water. “God, now that you mention it I actually-”

“(L/n)? (Y/n) (L/n)?”

A voice from across the room caught their attention, and curiously sent (Y/n)’s heart beat skyrocketing. Matt didn’t have a good feeling about this.

“Little (Y/n)!” The person exclaimed with glee. He approached (Y/n), something Matt imagined would have had her up and shoving this stranger away. Instead she sat there, petrified.

“Never expected to see you in New York, why didn’t you give your old uncle a call?” 

(Y/n) remained silent as this man put his hands on her, giving her an awkward side hug before glancing Matt’s way.

“Is this your new boyfriend?”

“No, he’s not-”

“I’m Marcus, Marcus Blum, (Y/n)’s uncle.” The man introduced himself. Matt felt his blood run cold.

“Matthew Murdock.” His response was curt and to the point. He knew he should have put on a facade, pretended to not sense (Y/n)’s discomfort and played the role of the oblivious date.

But right now (Y/n) was a time bomb, and Matt would do anything to avoid lighting that fuse.

“Mr. Murdock, would you mind if I borrowed my niece for a moment? We need to catch up on family matters.”

Before Matt could even respond, Blum had his hold on (Y/n) and was leading her towards an empty corner of the restaurant.

The worst part was, she willingly stood from her chair, staring at Matt the whole way there like a fish out of water, pulled from the ocean.

“Don’t try anything,” Blum began, all traces of his cheery tone thrown to the wind, “one wrong move and you’ll be pumped full of lead in seconds.”

That meant there were people in the restaurant who worked for him, who had been watching them, probably listening in. They must had been very efficient, Matt hadn’t heard anything suspicious since their arrival.

“They’d never pull the triggers fast enough... not fast enough to save you, at least...” She murmured, pulling her arm from his grasp.

“I thought we’d agree you’d never come back to New York, (Y/n)... That your snooping days were over.”

“I don’t know what your talking about-”

“Don’t play dumb with me!” he snapped, checking his tone once the few people in the restaurant who weren’t on his payroll looked in their direction. “Who else could rip a yacht in half like that...? Who else would send my people scrambling into jail cells?”

“Maybe you pissed off the wrong person... and they’ve come for revenge... Maybe all the people I found years ago have returned as spirits... come to settle their scores.” She grumbled. Though her voice was level and her chest puffed, her heart beat was drowning everything out for Matt.

Blum leaned in close, whispering in her ear. “If you have any sense... you’ll leave New York tonight. Otherwise your boyfriend is going to learn first hand about everything you’ve lied to him about.”

(Y/n) states silent, her strong stature faltering as she looked away from him and towards Matt.

“I’m glad we could have this talk...”

With that, Blum brushed past her and sat at the table he had been occupying. It suddenly felt like all eyes in the restaurant were on Matt and (Y/n) once she returned to their table. 

To (Y/n)’s insistence, they payed the bill and hastily left the restaurant.

Roughly 30 minutes after (Y/n) left Matt at his apartment, having said their goodbyes, he received a call from her on the burner phone. The second he answered, she was rambling a mile a minute in his ear.

“If we’re going to make a move it has to be tonight, can you meet me at the warehouse on the east side?”

Her voice had lost its steely edge, it was clear she had cried during the walk to wherever she was staying since she wasn’t bothering to mask her voice at this point.

“Slow down, we need to make a proper plan of attack before we go in there-”

“There’s no time for a plan!” she interrupted, “They’re threatening innocent people, people who know me! We need to find Blum and take him out before it’s too late!”

Matt could hear keys rustling in the background, as if she was struggling with a door before bursting into her room. 

“(Y/n), let’s just think about this. If we slow down we have a better chance of catching Blum.” Matt, who was preoccupied with going to his closet for his suit, hadn’t even noticed his slip up.

The line was dead silent for a moment, Matt almost called out to her, nervous the call had dropped.

“...How do you know my name...?”

Fuck.

“A-are you with them? How the fuck do you know my name?!” 

Matt began to panic, trying to think up an excuse on the fly, something convincing.

“Answer me, asshole! How do you know my-!” 

The sound of the phone clattering to the floor had Matt wincing away from the speaker pressed to his ear. What followed was the sound of something heavy thumping right beside the device. His knuckles turned white from how hard he gripped the flip phone, realization dawning on him once he realized what had happened.

All he heard next was the sound of heavy footsteps approaching the phone before the line went dead.

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