#unstable profiler naps

[bleumushyroom]

My desktop image was a florescent (soft green tint) altered shot of him asleep on the hospital couch for years. He was so peaceful looking that I could just close all windows and close my eyes for a minute it, mirroring him when I needed a break from computerized stress. A whole mood.

I lost the image when my computer got spilled on and the I've only been able to find shots that are tungsten (soft orange red tint) ever since.

Hannibal 1.02 Amuse-Bouche

[karolamurdock]

𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫-𝐖𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝟐𝟎𝟗𝟗 Pt. 1

Miguel O'Hara x Spider!Reader

Sinopsis: The year is 2106. By day, you work as the head of the Genetic Engineering and Biotechnology division at Alchemax. By night, you are the one and only Spider-Woman, fighting tirelessly to protect New York from the tyrannical clutches of crime and delinquency. Your days are spent in an ordinary, organized routine: it's just you, the only barrier between your city and oblivion, dealing with the violence and pain that comes with being a superhero.

Everything is just normal. Then your dead husband appears in front of you, talking about alternate universes, spider societies and canonical disasters, and you discover that all your sorrows, losses and failures were possibly always meant to happen.

What the fuck.

Notes: You can keep track of this little fic on our Ao3 page. In our profile you can also find the Spanish version.

Warnings: Angst, violence, sad reader.

Word count: 2K.

Pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3 - Pt 4

Dusk painted the city red. The last rays of evening flashed against the lenses of your mask as you gazed, crouched on the edge of the Chrysler Building, at the bustling streets of the City That Never Sleeps. 

The afternoon had been running smoothly, as usual. Minor crimes, a couple of robberys, a botched assault and a small fire that was quickly put out. For the city, it was just another, ordinary afternoon.

Not for you. For you, it was a day of regret. Because that day was the seventh anniversary of the day you became the one and only Spider-Woman.

That day was the seventh anniversary of your husband's death. 

🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷

Your name is (T/N). You were the victim of an 'accident' that caused an alteration of your genetic code. The machine caused your DNA to mutate, fusing 50% with the DNA of a spider. 

As a result of the incident, you acquired superhuman strength; speed and flexibility far beyond the physical limits of the most gifted human athlete. You had an extraordinary durability, very acute reflexes, ultra-sharp vision and an accelerated healing factor. 

You were also 'gifted' with sharp, venomous fangs which produced a non-toxic substance that paralyzed your enemies, as well as retractable claws on your fingertips that allowed you to easily attach to any surface. 

Your eyes, once glowing (E/C) orbs, had become tinted with a reddish hue that you covered with dark glasses (which served the dual purpose of deterring curious civilians and protecting you from sensory overstimulation). 

The world knew you as a heroine. Selfless, courageous and capable. A fitting antithesis to your civilian identity. An acclaimed geneticist of few words and a fleeting smile. With few close friends, a quiet, cold, almost impersonal apartment. Your only companion was a fat, lazy cat who, like you, fended for himself and appreciated your silent company while taking long naps on your stomach. 

Your days consisted of a long shift at Alchemax, as head of the Genetic Engineering and Biotechnology division, and grueling night patrols as New York's most famous Spider.

You didn't sleep very much. After your long days (with and without the suit), you would finally drop off exhausted and look forward to a short, dreamless rest. Your routine was such. The days finally blurred into one another, and you concentrated on living them one at a time. 

That day, however, something changed. 

🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷

A commotion was heard in the distance. You watched the smoke column rising near the 5th Avenue, and you quickly changed the direction of your swing to deal with the emerging threat.

You gazed at the strange creature as you glided on the air currents with the aid of the anti-gravity particles emitted by your suit of unstable molecules. Holding on to a streetlight as you analyzed the individual before you, you frowned at his anomalous appearance; the elongated mask, the green suit and the archaic glider. His maniacal laughter filled the street, and the fire reflected in his orange glasses as he turned his head in your direction. 

The smile carved into his mask would have caused you to shudder with revulsion had it not been for your sour mood. You were already late to leave the arrangement of carnations on your husband's grave. You were hoping to get it over with that lunatic quickly so you could spend the rest of your night in your bed, marinating in your loneliness. 

"Well, well. What do we have here? You're not the spider I'm used to playing with."

"I'm the spider that will put an end to your fun". You replied. "What do you want?"

The creature laughed, and... flickered? Like a failing hologram, his own form superimposed upon itself in a kaleidoscope of colors and shapes that took a second to return to its place. 

You frowned, suddenly feeling more alert, and braced yourself when the creature threw two orange spheres in your direction as it laughed:

"Never mind! After all... This will be another world to conquer."

Catching the spheres with your webs, you threw them into the sky, accurately predicting the great explosion that lit up the night sky, away from the terrified crowd running away from the scene. 

You dodged the projectiles hurled in your direction, and somersaulted through the air as the individual lunged at you, clawed hands outstretched in your direction. 

You aimed your webs again; the gleaming golden ribbons wrapped around your wrists, and used a manhole cover to spin around and propel yourself into the air, crashing the hard metal into the glider and ducking behind a smoking van across the street. 

The creature jumped, and his ruined glider crashed into a streetlight, causing an explosion of sparks to rain down around you. 

"You may not be my spider. But you're just as sneaky. Come here!"

And he leapt forward, lashing out with his claws aimed at your throat. You deflected the blow, but he was quick and turned around to throw a punch that landed on above your eyebrow. Your vision blurred, and you blinked in surprise as you had to take a couple of steps back from the shock. This creature... it seemed to have an idea of your range of motion, as well as a brief notion of the range of your reflexes. 

Not the spider you're used to playing with.... 

Before you could give the idea any more thought, you caught a movement out of the corner of your eye, and you reflexively spun around with a kick that hit the creature squarely in the chest, throwing him back a few feet and drawing a pained laugh from him. 

"You're strong... just like him." The creature coughed. "You're fast... just like him." He took a couple of slow steps around you, and scanned you up and down. Your dark suit, your upright posture, and the evident claws in your hands. "You even look like him... but you're not Peter Parker, are you?"

You hid a shudder by crouching against the ground in a battle stance. This creature... 

You had no time to ramble. He came at you once more, and you used your webs to leap away from his thrusts. You jumped over a streetlight, and watched him rip the door off a pickup truck to throw it in your direction. You kicked it out of the way, a second too late to notice the small orange orb stuck to the side of the door. 

His mocking laughter was lost in the roar of the explosion. Your body was hurled toward the concrete, and you barely had time to cover your head before you hit the ground, hard. 

Your ears were ringing, and you tasted blood where your fangs scratched the inside of your lips. You remained motionless, listening to the crunch of his footsteps approaching to your collapsed form. You counted the seconds, watching the creature's fluctuating reflection against the cracked windows around you. 

In other circumstances, against any other opponent, you would have jumped up at once and taken the battle elsewhere, away from the street. But in this situation, you didn't want to give the anomalous creature a chance to escape, or else... to see more of your world. You didn't like the way his mask swiveled, taking note of the towering buildings and iridescent lights. The lenses of his mask paused an extra second on the giant letters above the OSCORP tower, and you heard his curious humming just as his hand reached out to grab you by the neck. 

You finally moved, and twisted his arm, breaking the archaic armor with your claws as you summoned your superhuman strength to smash your other elbow into his mask. 

The impact shook his head, and you briefly glimpsed a small glowing eye through a broken lens before feeling the air against your chin as your suit retracted to allow you to plunge your venom into the creature's exposed forearm. 

You watched his breathing quicken. Finally, you released him, and you exchanged a couple of blows that rapidly decreased in intensity and force. When he stopped flailing, and you finally beheld his stiff muscles and slumped figure, you threw him against a parked vehicle, mentally apologizing to the poor owner, and wrapped several webs around it, forming a golden cocoon that covered him almost completely.

You watched his perpetually smiling expression, and lifted your arm to wipe your lips, ready to shred the rest of the mask and find out the identity of that you were taking to the authorities that night. You could already hear the sirens in the distance. 

And then you heard the clattering of stones all around you. 

Debris and stones rose a foot in the air. You watched in morbid bewilderment at the flickering lights, the creature, slack against the hood of the vehicle, and you briefly averted your gaze only to behold a blue hand tearing the air, the fabric of reality stretching into a luminous hexagon, edged in orange, pink, and yellow colors. A blue silhouette appeared from the center of the hexagon, and you watched in horror as a person sprang into existence right under your nose. 

Your mask quickly returned to its place. You fell into a defensive position. With one hand against the pavement and another poised in the air. The man, whom you now recognized as such, wore a piercing blue suit with red lines that seemed to converge in a spider design... a design eerily similar to yours. Even his mask, with lenses edged with sharp red lines, resembled your own dark mask. 

"Thank you for your support. We'll take it from here." He said, and motioned to the creature as he ordered, "Ben."

Distantly, through the sumptuous flow of blood you felt ringing in your ears, you became aware of the arrival of another hooded figure, wearing a red suit, blue vest, and a mask that matched the popular spider theme. 

For the first time in almost 6 years, you had difficulty articulating your words. Your tongue felt heavy, your fangs were once again too big for your mouth, and you dug your claws into the concrete to keep yourself upright in the face of the flood of anguish that completely overtook you.

His voice... 

"I don't think so." You took a step in the direction of the Spider... Man, the one with the blue vest. "Who are you, and what do you have to do with that creature?"

"It's classified." Replied the tall, broad-shouldered man in the blue suit. At his response, you held your ground in front of the creature, though you watched... Ben? Analyzing the individual slumped over the car. 

"He's alive. He's not unconscious, he's..."

"Paralyzed." Said the man and you at the same time. And Ben jumped on his toes with his hands covering both sides of his mouth. 

"Could you be...?" He started. But the mistery man wouldn't let him continue.

"That's the Green Goblin over there. In his world, he's Norman Osborn, previous CEO and ex-president of OSCORP. He became the Green Goblin after experimenting with a serum that drove him insane." 

You frowned, but grudgingly allowed Ben to restrain the newly named Green Goblin as you took a close look at the burly man in front of you. 

His broad back. His big arms, his lean waist. 

His firm pose. His beautiful voice. 

"We are Spider people. Just like you. Our job is to deal with anomalies like him, who threaten other worlds by slipping through the cracks between realities. The fate of the multiverse depends on it. "

You had difficulty wrapping your mind around the idea, but you didn't let your hesitation show in your posture.

"If you come with us, we can show you. You did a good job containing this anomaly. We could make good use of your support." 

"Who are you?"

His mask retracted. An invisible hand wrapped around your throat, and you felt the ghost of your own venom paralyzing your body; perhaps finally your DNA had destabilized, and you were suffering a biological rupture. It had to be a manifestation of your delirium: his dark curls, his high cheekbones, his strong jaw. 

"My name is Miguel O'Hara, and I am the leader of the Spider society."

You closed your eyes. 

He held out his hand, looked at you, and you thought you saw his eyes softening a little.

Then you dug your claws into his throat.

[rubbarband]

A VERY DESCRIPTIVE PROFILE OF YOUR MUSE. Repost with the information of your muse, including headcanons, etc. if you fail to achieve some of the facts, add some other of your own!

-

NAME: Desmond Praxton Baker/ Rubbarband (Hero moniker)

NICKNAME: Des to his friends , Dessy to certain lovers , Ka lā pīni meaning Sunshine bean, from his great grandfather and his grandma.

TITLE(S): Rubbarband, SnapBand (Villain verse), Grey star Blade (Fantasy verse)

AGE: Default age is 24 years, but it’s verse/muse dependent. (Like to place muses on similar ages)

SPECIES: Human (super human with elastic powers+ tail)

QUIRK: Bungibody + tail- Can make himself stretch and expand similar to rubber, including his tail. His tail is completely prehensile and can be used to grab objects.

NATIONALITY: African-American/Hawaiian (Samoan)

INTERESTS: Heroing, Exercise, Cooking, Training, Animals, Walks, Secret Singing, Farming, Making people smile, Fighting, Parkour, Yard work, Video games, Movies, Sweets, Traveling, Relaxing, Pranks, Bad puns, Jokes, Hanging out with his friends, Baking, Bad arts and crafts, Working on his hero outfit, Music, Naps, Being with family and friends

PROFESSION: Being a top hero, protecting and serving the citizens of Portland Oregon, helping people, Infiltration missions, working with the mutant foundation for better lives for mutants, and many poc based organizations as well.

(In his fantasy verse) he's a mercenary that travels around righting wrongs and doing odd jobs for

BODY TYPE: Tall and muscular, slim, and tone too, obviously he also has a large tail attached to his body resulting in a very distinguished look.

EYES: Grey (At night it's bright green and yellow if he's not wearing his visor, similar to a cat.)

SKIN: Dark skin, birthmark that looks like a paw print on his right hip. Scar on his left eye.

POSTURE: Desmond stands up talk and proud, with his tail swishing in his relaxed state, obviously holding the stature of a hero and of someone open and brave.

HEIGHT: 5'11(Young), 6'8 (at Adult)

VOICE: Desmond's got a deep voice, but with a kind tinge, understandable and with some base in in. Deep but understandable, kind, soft even.

Due to recent...poor decisions, I have lost his main voice. However This voice is close [X]

SIGNATURE OUTFIT: Desmond prefers casual wear, A V neck Tshirt and black slacks are what he usually wears rain or snow. As for his hero Gear, it functions as a simple shirt with long collar, purple pants with black side trim, blue belt and boots that stretch to his whim.

He wears a head protector like wresters, with a golden visor and ear jacks that double as sound dampeners and communications.

SIGNIFICANT OTHER: RP dependent, if not Default relationship is Eliza or one of his classmates.

COMPANIONS: Verse dependent

ANTAGONISTS: The chess pieces - Villains. All villains.

STRENGTHS: Kind, gentle, loves to make people laugh, protective of others, polite, adventurous, open-minded, forgiving (to a point), loyal, relaxing aura.

WEAKNESSES: Chronic heroism, willing to help everyone even to his own detriment or risk of making things worse, very stubborn, a little naïve, too trusting, tends to act with emotions and not think things through. Temper when around villain's, Has survivors guilt, scarred, isn't honest with his own feelings, tiny bit mentally unstable, Tends to need others company to feel relaxed, self sacrificing.

FRUITS: Desmond likes any fruit that's sweet, preferably Desmond loves Oranges and Blueberries and Pears, for some odd reason Desmond is obsessed with Mangos and Star fruit.

DRINKS: Smoothies, Water, Tea, Soda, Soda SODA!

ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGES: Desmond doesn't drink them unless it's a celebration or if he's under peer pressure.

SMOKES: No

DRUGS: Food pills for enhancing his strength in battle, however it hurts his heart and leans him in a state of screaming agony for three minutes, he only took them three times and passed out after all three.

DRIVER'S LICENSE: Yes he has one, He also has a purple sports car Ferrari 488 Purple Pista, he's had several over the course of his driving career because villains have destroyed them, much to his dismay. He also has a motor bike for getting to places faster, which he'd eventually give to either his spouse or eldest child.

He named his car Daisy and is obsessed with his car, eventually in a battle, Daisy would be handed down to his child, saving her from the curse of Des. Kal-li also can drive all his vehicle for him or too him as well.

Tagged by: @chronicparagon

Tagging: @team-vlts, @ask-ultimate-fashionista(Fujiko), @umbranstilettos(muse of your choice), @divinestep, @walkerofclouds, @fracturedempathy, @itxybitxyspidey, @mimingforjustice, @mysticjourneys, @bloodyshards, @hana-akari, @cauterisen, @byakugano, @mused-like-roses(muse of your choice),

[jungk0oksthighs]

Pi Gasu | Damned If We Do, Dead If We Don't

Pairing - jungkook x reader

Genre - smut, angst, E2L, vampire!jungkook

Word Count - 6.5k

Donating blood for Jungkook is physically draining you, in more ways than one. Warnings: swearing, mentions of blood, needles and masturbation, jk & oc argue, light violence

SERIES MASTERLIST

It’s Tuesday, you’re mindlessly tapping a blunt pencil against the desk between your fingers, feeling uninspired and drained. In more ways than one. Donating blood for Jungkook has changed from a fortnightly occurrence to a minimum of twice a week. Truthfully you don’t know how much longer you can keep this lifestyle up, while your bank account has never looked healthier your body feels the complete opposite.

You’re sick. Feeling constantly light-headed and drowsy, similar to last year when you had a nasty chest infection, even getting out of bed is a daily struggle. But with every donation comes a tonne of money, money you’ve been sending straight to your mother to cover the cost of Eddie’s medical bills. Jungkook doesn’t know truly how desperate you are for the money, he’s never asked and it would be fair to assume he doesn’t care – as long as you’re donating.

Your relationship with the vampire in question is equally as unstable as your blood pressure. He invites you over, you get yourself off in front of him while he's chained to the bed he has to replace every time you go there – giving that he breaks at least two of the bed posts each time you go, thrashing around like a handsome shark attempting to be freed. Once you’re finished you head up to his kitchen, donate and leave. The two of you don’t speak between your sinful, morally grey rendezvous, only amplifying your confusion toward the situation. Amplifying your confusion toward him.

College work can wait, you decide you need a nap before you’re capable of conjuring any coherent thoughts. It’s been a while since you felt this ill, your entire body is heavy and weak, simultaneously burning hot and shivering. Maybe it’s the flu? You’re Googling your symptoms when the weight of sleep drags you into unconsciousness, succumbing to slumber quicker than you thought humanly possible.

It's the knocking sound on your front door that wakes you a few hours later, actually, when your eyes flutter open with a lot of effort you register it’s dark outside. You’ve been out cold for at least six hours. Tired footsteps drag on the floorboards as you make your way to the door, using the peephole to ensure you’re not going to be drained of blood as soon as you unlock it. Thank god, it’s just Yoongi.

He's standing on the other side of the door with arms folded over his chest, brows raised and an unimpressed-looking expression. You sigh, unhooking the chain before you greet your next door neighbour. You’re not exactly dressed for company right now, having fallen asleep in nothing beyond an old, oversized Twilight t-shirt you wear to mostly dye your hair. Oh the irony.

“Hey…” You croak, throat feeling full of glass shards and head banging louder than thunder itself when you open the door.

Yoongi’s features shift to concern instantly, he uncrosses his arms and softens his profile into something almost caring when he speaks. “Are you okay…? You look… Are you sick?”

“Mhm, think it’s the flu.” You admit with a cough to backup your claim, covering your mouth, “Don’t get too close to me, what’s up?”

“I-, I uh-, I came for the lasagne dish back…” Yoongi runs a slender finger through his long brunette hair, pushing it away from his gentle features. “Do you have any medicine? You look really sick…”

At this you offer him a reassuring smile, “I’ll be fine. Hang on I’ll go get the dish for you, probably best you don’t come inside…” You trail off to nothing while searching your cupboard for the dish in question, but much to your surprise Yoongi follows you inside, closing the door behind him all while he ignores your pleas. “No seriously!” You turn to face him with wide eyes, well, as wide as your eyes can physically get with the weight of the flu resting on your lids, “I don’t want you to get sick, go wait outside!”

“Y/N it’s just the flu, I’ll be okay.” Yoongi chuckles, veiny hands finding your kettle on the countertop before flicking it to boil, “Go sit down, I’ll make you some tea.”

“Yoongi—”

“Sit. Down.” He emphasises his words with a low, assertive tone, pointing to the sofa with raised brows. “Are you always this stubborn?” A small smile briefly tugs the corners of his pink lips, until the kettle flicks back off signalling the water’s boiled and he heads over to your small, makeshift hot drinks station.

You smile back, “Are you?”

Yoongi doesn’t look at you, too focussed on searching for tea, “I’m not gonna ask you again, sit down. You look terrible.” He murmurs, picking out your favourite mug straight away.

“You didn’t ask me to begin with.” You mumble in defeat, finally doing as he says and sitting on the sofa in front of the television. A large, cotton-candy pink blanket is haphazardly thrown onto your frame and the weight of it almost knocks you clean out. When you glare at your unexpected guest he’s grinning ear-to-ear, peeling his gaze away from you.

“Shit, is this rose thorn?” Yoongi gestures to your mom’s homemade tea bags, immediately rinsing his hands below the cold tap after touching it. Though he doesn’t look to be in any discomfort.

“I don’t know what she puts in there… My mom makes her own tea, she sent me some not long ago.” You hum, mindlessly flicking through the Netflix selection, internal organs knotting with shame when you scroll through the ‘Recommended For You’ section:

The Vampire Diaries, The Twilight Collection, The Lost Boys, and one that catches you off-guard so much so that laughter bubbles in your throat, Vampires Suck.

Correct Netflix, vampires do suck. It's refreshing to be at home in your modest apartment with blush pink and mustard furnishings for a change. It's bright, light and homely. The complete opposite to Euphoria's dark seductive overall aesthetic. But even Euphoria is tame in comparison to the hidden sex dungeon in Jungkook's otherwise seemingly normal home. You frown, wondering if the vampire has even noticed you haven't reached out in a couple days. Probably not.

“Sounds like mom’s very paranoid.” Yoongi mutters, choosing to give you a green tea instead. As well as a bottle of water. He places both onto the white coffee table in front of you and before you have time to question him he speaks again, “When did you last eat?”

You sigh, “Seriously Yoongi I’m fine, thank you but—”

“Y/N.” He cuts you off, “Do you have any idea what I do for a living?”

“No…” You admit sheepishly, unable to hold his strong, judgemental eye-contact that's unwavering despite choppy brunette locks tickling his almond-shaped eyes. “I don’t know anything about you, actually.”

Yoongi nods in response, slowly, “Exactly. Trust me, you’re sick. I bet you’re burning up right now-“ You don’t have a second to think before the back of his large hand is on your clammy forehead, he’s frowning when he pulls away, “Shit, you’re really sick. I’ll pick up some medicine for you tomorrow.”

“What do you do for a living?” Curiosity takes over, heart racing in your chest when Yoongi’s adjusting the blanket over your body, tucking every part of you beneath it apart from your bare ankles and feet.

“Keep your feet out, it’ll help regulate your temperature.” He’s completely focussed on making sure you’re comfortable, it’s when his hands graze the swell of your ass over the blanket that you clear your throat uncomfortably and he keeps talking, you assume it's his way of overcoming the sudden awkwardness, “I’m a medical journalist, used to be a paramedic before that.”

“Oh really? I’m a nursing student.” You smile, a genuine smile despite the ache in your body and pounding in your brain… It’s nice to have something in common. “How come you switched from being a paramedic to a medical journalist if you don’t mind me asking?”

At this Yoongi shrugs, eyes his expression almost bored-looking, “I helped a lot of people but it was never satisfying enough for me… Now I expose the people who don’t help others. Medical malpractice is something I’m passionate about, was an easy decision to make.”

“Hmmm…” You nod along with his words, seemingly impressed that he followed his passions and is still helping people by exposing the wrong-doings of others, “That’s really interesting.”

“So,” Yoongi stands in front of the television holding his hips, winning him your complete focus. He’s wearing acid-wash blue jeans, a white t shirt and a grey oversized cardigan today and once again, you can’t help but notice how he doesn’t seem out of place standing in your apartment. “Do you have any soup?”

The next four days are filled with Yoongi coming over and taking care of you, bringing you comfort food and medicine or even just his company. You learn that he’s a very sweet guy, though his external walls are tough and hard to penetrate – on the inside he’s much gentler than you’d expect, much more. It’s day five of riding out the confirmed flu when once again Yoongi is standing in your kitchen area, having just tucked you up on the sofa.

The pounding in your head has dulled, the aching of your joints and muscles has lessened. You still don’t feel 100% but you’re a hell of a lot better than you were, and it’s all because of Yoongi. It’s strange, one minute you didn’t know much about him and the next it was as though you’d known him forever. He’s scanning the contents of your cupboard with pinched brows, but you’re way more focussed on how his slender fingers trace patterns on the cupboard door while he searches for what he wants.

“Shit, no green tea left.” He sighs exasperatedly, “I think I’ve got some at my place…”

You’re smiling, attempting to show indifference when Yoongi closes the cabinet door and zones in on your face. You cough, looking away, “What’s wrong with my mom’s homemade stuff? It tastes nice, you should try it.”

“No can do,” Yoongi chuckles, slipping his shoes back on to head out into the hall and back to his apartment, “My roommate is allergic to rose thorn.”

You frown, prodding the inside of your cheek with your tongue to showcase your confusion, “But your roommate won’t be the one drinking it…?”

“Not directly, no.” Yoongi sighs, brushing fingers through his long brunette hair. Today he’s wearing an all-black outfit consisting of a very tight fitted t shirt and loose baggy jeans, all tied together with a leather jacket that’s currently hung up on your coat stand. “But you can never be too careful where allergies are concerned. I’ll be right back.”

After ninety minutes of waiting for Yoongi to come back to your place the drowsiness of the medication is in full swing and you drift off to sleep on the sofa. It’s an unknown amount of time later when you feel your limp body being shifted around, until your head is resting on something warm with a beating heart and there’s an arm loosely draped over your waist. The familiar woody scent of Yoongi’s cologne is the last thing you pick up on before you fall back to sleep, completely oblivious to your surroundings save for the comforting hold of your next door neighbour.

-

It's been a week since Jungkook last heard from you, if he had a heart it would be yearning for you to reach out to him right now. This is the longest the two of you have gone with zero contact since the night you met, even his employees Jimin and Namjoon haven’t seen you around your college campus or your neighbourhood. Which is unusual to say the least considering they’ve memorised your scent and know where you live. It’s like you’ve disappeared.

The only thing that has stopped Jungkook from directly reaching out to you himself is his pride, that and the fact Jimin and Taehyung have grown suspicious of his recent behaviour. It’s not that he’s in love with you or anything, vampires aren’t capable of such humane complexities. But he’s addicted to you, to the taste of you, to the sight of you, the scent of you. Everything about you lingers in his soulless being like an ache, he misses you. He misses your blood.

He’s due to run out of your donations any day now, giving that he’s being rationing himself to one test-tube per day of the euphoric rush your blood provides. He has three tubes left, and the fact he hasn’t heard a single peep from you in a week makes him feel… Well that’s just it, you make him feel.

Sitting alone in a private dance room at Euphoria he dials your number, wanting to schedule another… meeting with you as soon as possible. It’s when a voice he didn’t expect to hear answers, whispered and smug, that Jungkook stops breathing.

“Hello?” It’s a guy speaking, sounding every bit arrogant which ignites a fire of fury inside the vampire.

“Where’s Y/N.” Jungkook bites, immediately sitting up right on the leather sofa, almost crushing his cell phone in his strong grip. “Who the fuck is this?”

“She’s sleeping.”

Jungkook’s fangs double in length when his question is ignored, angering him further, “Who the fuck are you and why do you have Y/N’s phone?” He spits venomously, nostrils flared and eyes wide, rounded yet still fierce. His voice is bleeding with unsaid threats, anyone in their right mind would be terrified of him in this moment.

“I didn’t steal her phone if that’s what you’re implying…” The voice laughs sadistically, still remaining quiet and albeit unphased by Jungkook’s tone, “She’s here, she’s asleep on me right now—”

“Who the fuck are you?!” Jungkook growls, rushing to his feet, the leather sofa he was sitting on moments before flying back and crashing against the ground, smashing to pieces. His chest is heaving up and down, breathing ragged and mind clouded by the idea of you cosying up next to someone. “Are you in her apartment?! I’ll see you there in five—”

“Good luck with that,” The man sighs, bored-sounding as though this is the most mundane conversation he’s ever had, “Place is drowning in rose thorns.”

Jungkook’s features drop until no emotion remains, “A hunter.”

“Not exactly,” The man audibly shifts, a low delicate hum can be heard in the background and Jungkook’s chest tightens, he knows that’s your voice, “But you don’t belong in Y/N’s world. Stay away from her.”

“Stay away from her?! You think I—”

The call ends, pissing Jungkook off to the point where he’s launching his cell at a wall-length mirror that stands opposite him, smashing it to pieces. He catches sight of his reflection, his profile is tense and seething, equal parts disgusted and angry. His favourite leopard print shirt barely covers his chest, the top four buttons undone at least exposing his taught dewy skin. Tied with black slacks and bare feet, the club hasn’t opened yet and he knows he has to calm down and screw on his business head before customers arrive. But that’s going to be somewhat impossible now.

Who the fuck is in your apartment?! That guy is probably poisoning you with rose thorn. Jungkook’s entire body stiffens, fuck this, why does he care so much?! If you want to fuck around with men—, no. He can’t even bring himself to think about you being intimate with anyone else. Not that he’s fucked you, he’s never even kissed you because every time he entertains the mere thought of it the smell of your blood floods his senses and all he can think about is killing you.

Kissing a human, a few months ago he would’ve felt physically ill at the thought. But now? Kissing you is something Jungkook wishes he had the strength execute properly.

--

As soon as the flu passes you find yourself standing outside the familiar door adorned with a golden ’97’ on the front. You haven’t been to Jungkook’s place in almost two weeks now, you haven’t communicated with him at all but this conversation is something that has to be done face to face. You want out. Out of the donations, away from the vampires.

It’s nothing personal, there’s no bad blood between you and Jungkook but frankly you can’t keep doing this. For whatever reason your blood is special, you understand that, well at the very least you’ve accepted it. And Jungkook wants to know why, rightfully so – it’s just the constant donating is taking a toll on your body, you still don’t feel completely recovered from the flu and there are new aches and pains in your limbs every day. You’ve been to the doctor, mostly because Yoongi forced you to go to the doctor, and they confirmed your bloodwork is all over the place.

You have low iron, borderline no B12, your haemoglobin levels are dangerously under what medical professionals deem to be normal. Truthfully you’re exhausted, the mere thought of gifting any more blood to Jungkook makes your knees buckle under your weight. You feel weak, you feel tired. Which is precisely why you’re standing at Jungkook’s front door, wearing a rich burgundy off-the-shoulder sweater and black skinny jeans, tied together with a pair of black military style boots.

The dark front door swings open before you’ve even had the chance to knock, revealing Jungkook’s wide doe-like eyes shocked and confused to see you here. You swallow, having forgotten how… ethereal he is.

Today he’s wearing a fancy white shirt with plentiful ruffles gathering at the front of his chest, the first to buttons undone and revealing his tattooed dewy skin. The trousers he wears are similar to yours, black and tight fitting, except his are made completely of leather and shine beneath the November moonlight. It’s not a moment later when Jungkook’s features drop into a tight scowl, thick dark brows furrowed and nostrils flared.

“What are you doing here?” His voice is threatening, a little dangerous and lacking any trace of concern.

Awkwardly shifting your weight between your legs you sigh, looking him dead in his faintly stained crimson red eyes, “Can I come in?”

Rather than verbally responding he steps to one side, granting you access to his home. It’s still surprising to you how not gothic and creepy this place is, instead it’s homely and warm. At least this level of the house is, what lies in his basement is far from homely…

You slip onto a barstool in the kitchen, noting how Jungkook is keeping a large distance between your bodies. Right. He’s not tied up this time, he’s probably resisting the urge to kill you right now.

“It’s not because of that,” Jungkook reads your mind with a whispered scoff, “You stink of him, that’s all.” He folds his strong arms over his chest and you have to try not to stare at the bulging muscles flexing and moving beneath the very thin fabric of his shirt. The material is so sheer in fact, that you can see the tattoos that lie beneath.

“Him?” You frown, heart pounding in your chest as the realisation dawns on you – he means Yoongi. “Oh… Yeah, my neighbour has been looking after me… I’ve been sick. That’s actually why I came over…” You swallow again, mouth suddenly feeling very dry when Jungkook makes his way over to you in a few long strides, until he’s at the opposite side of the kitchen island.

His tattooed hands rest on the marble surface either side of his body, arms straight and stare stuck on you. “You should’ve told me you were sick, I could’ve helped you.” There’s zero emotion in his tone, no clues as to what he’s feeling etched onto his face, nothing.

“Helped me…?” Your brows are pinched together again, flaunting your confusion, eyes wandering to the swell of the vampire’s shoulder muscles, round and inviting. In an ironic way they almost look biteable, like large succulent pieces of fruit joining his arms to his equally as enticing body. His taught, big, beefy—

One of Jungkook’s eyebrows raise, the pierced one, his stare is intense and doesn’t falter from your for even a second. “Can you stop that?”

“Stop what?” You blink at him, a little anxious.

“Stop staring at me like that while you’re thinking such obscenities.” He says bluntly, the usual glimmer of flirtation nowhere to be seen.

Heat rushes to your cheeks and you look away quickly, clearing your throat, “Sorry.”

“If you were sick you should’ve called, you’re a smart girl. I’m sure you know all about what a drop of my blood can do.” Jungkook cracks his neck, eyes fluttered shut as though he’s actively trying not to look at you. “I’ve never let a human feed from me, but if you really were sick I would’ve made an exception.”

“What do you mean if I ‘really were sick’?” You scoff, pursing your lips, “Do you think I’m lying about being ill? Why on earth would I do that Jungkook?” You shake your head in disbelief, fucking vampires and their stupid sexy brooding faces and thoughts.

Of course he doesn’t believe you, probably thinks you spent the week avoiding him to hook up with Yoongi since you ‘stink of him’. Sighing, you mirror his movements, planting your hands down onto the countertop, cocking your head to eye him curiously.

“That’s exactly what I think, actually.” Jungkook looks scary, the tinge of red to his eyes has taken over his whole irises, the once faint stain of colour is now opaque and unmistakably deep ruby. Burning with something indescribable, boring into your soul from across the countertop. “Look me in the eye and tell me he didn’t touch you, tell me his scent isn’t all over you for the reason I think it is.”

You’re laughing, the sound empty and absent, “Stay out of my head! Are you asking if he touched me, or if he fucked me?” You fold your arms over your chest, subconsciously pushing the swell of your breasts up without trying, “Because they’re two very different questions.”

The vampire’s stare darkens, flickering to your chest for a moment so brief it could pass as an accident, “And yet the answer is the same for both, isn't it?”

“You’re right.” You hum, “He didn’t touch me, or fuck me. Are you happy now? Is that what you wanted to hear?”

Silence.

“Lets say for arguments sake he did fuck me… What could you do about it?” You scoff, frowning at him when you stand, “You don’t own me Jungkook, stop acting like you do. If I want to fuck my next door neighbour who the hell are you to stop me?! You’ve never even touched me yourself—”

“How fucking dare you,” Jungkook’s standing next to you in the blink of an eye, sharp fangs and familiar face bruising dominating his chiselled features. He’s looking down at you as though you’re everything wrong with the world, as though he despises you to your very core and his voice is equally as disgusted. “Show up at my home, drowning in another man’s cologne and try to pick a fight with me. Are you frustrated because I haven’t touched you myself, is that it?” He spits, lowering his head until you’re both nose-to-nose, “You want me to touch you, don’t you? You’re either very brave, or very foolish.”

Jungkook’s breath is hot on your face but you don’t fold, looking up at the familiar monster he’s become with unwavering, strong eye contact, despite the hammering of your heart inside your chest, “Are you jealous that I was with another man?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. Of course I’m not jealous. I don’t own you, remember.” He scoffs, wetting his lips. The way his chest is heaving with each and every angry breath he takes is all the confirmation you need to know he’s lying, “The supplies are in the basement, make your donation and get the fuck out of my house.”

At this you try to push him away, the apple of his shoulder is rock hard beneath your palm when you attempt to move his body away for yours. But of course, as to be expected, he stays exactly where he is. A frustrated sound escapes you, similar to a whine or maybe even a defeated whimper. Whatever description it falls under, it has Jungkook smirking when you step away from him.

“Not so brave now, are we?” He chuckles, eyes raking the spans of your bare shoulders when he swallows.

You stand your ground, “The reason I came here is to call off our… arrangement, whatever you want to call this. It’s making me sick, my blood work is messed up and frankly I can think of better ways to spend my evenings—”

“Stop seeing him then, problem solved.” Jungkook barks, edging closer, voice louder, “He’s the one who convinced you to stop this arrangement, isn’t he?”

Your mouth falls open in equal parts shock and rightfully placed, albeit a little delayed fear, “N-no… Yoongi doesn’t even know about what we’re doing… I haven’t told anyone.” You silently plead with him, nervous of what he’ll do to you if he thinks you’re lying, “I need to stop doing this for my health…”

“I can fix that. I can make you healthy again.” He’s calm now, the fury behind his eyes softening with each passing moment.

“I don’t want to feed from you, Jungkook.”

“Think of it as medicine.”

“Except it’s not medicine.” You sigh, growing agitated.

“A drop of my blood will rid you of any human illness—”

“It’ll also turn me into a monster!” You blurt, immediately regretting that decision when every hair on your body stands to attention as you’re being hurried downstairs into his basement, faster than you can humanly process.

The familiar scent of warm amber and ginger hits you like a train and in the next breath your back is firmly pressed against a brick wall adorned with leather sex accessories. Paddles, floggers, whips, ball-gags, collars, everything a person can think of is pressing against your back. Tears stab at your vision, clouding it entirely when you catch sight of Jungkook’s strong arms caging your body in either side of your face, keeping you in place.

“You’d only turn if you died with my blood in your system…” The calmness, the consideration and purity of Jungkook’s voice surprises you. He doesn’t sound mad, he doesn’t appear to be anything related to angry. Instead his tone is sincere and offers solace. “And you’re an even bigger fool than I thought if you haven’t figured this out by now…” He whispers, lips tracing up your jaw until his fangs are pressed against the shell of your ear, “But I would never let that happen.”

“I’m s-sorry…” You whisper back, dizzy from his words, “I didn’t mean to call you a monster…” Your breath is shaky, eyes fluttering shut in an attempt to calm yourself down. He's going to fucking kill you down here.

“That’s exactly what I am Y/N.” Jungkook’s head is still dipped, lips grazing your ear as the words roll off his tongue, sending a hot shiver down your spine that you can’t even describe. “But don’t do this, don’t stop making donations.”

He pulls his face back on instinct when your eyes open, leaving you staring at each other with open mouths. Your heartrate picks up, until the sound of your pulse is deafening your ears. Your voice is quiet, cautious and calculated when it tumbles from your lips, “…Jungkook, my health comes first. I can make one final donation but after that you’re gonna have to find someone else to test—”

“Except there is nobody else. If you’re sick because of me, let me fix it.” Inked fingertips find their way to your bare shoulder, you tense beneath his touch and you register him wetting his pierced lips, his face is less than arms-length away and it’s enough to make you nervous. He’s not chained up this time, there’s nothing stopping him from killing you in an instant. “Please.”

“Why…?” You exhale.

“If I wanted you dead you would be already, don’t you trust me?” His voice is hoarse.

Your breath catches in your throat but you find yourself nodding, “Fine… But-, I’m… We’re not going to be like bound forever if I do this, right? If I-, if I drink your...”

At this Jungkook’s gaze deepens with hope, flashing with something a little sinister, “That’s not how it works. You’ll be restored to full health and your body temperature will burn it off in a couple days. You only need a drop.”

“That’s it?” You snort, undeniably confused, the media has always made the exchange of vampire blood out to be something akin to injecting heroin. “That’s all that happens? I don’t get addicted or anything?”

“That’s all that happens…” Jungkook smirks, his fangs extending two inches longer than his other teeth, one hand rolling the sleeve up on his other arm in preparation. “You have my word.”

You should be frightened, uncomfortable and scared shitless when his fangs pierce the tattooed skin of his wrist, until a tiny amount of blood gathers round his lips and drips from the open-wound. You should be running for the hills, you should be screaming, crying, throwing up or having an anxiety attack from what you’ve just witnessed.

But the only emotions coursing through your veins are… Curiosity. Bewilderment. Excitement. Is this a good idea? Definitely not. Do you trust Jungkook? You shouldn’t. Are you really going to do this?

You are.

Jungkook’s pierced plump lips are stained red, the skin surrounding his mouth tinted pink, you’ve never seen his lips look so inviting before. Almost swollen and begging to be kissed. Your gaze flickers back to his eyes, they’re crimson in colour and glowing beneath the dim lighting in the basement. He’s… beautiful.

“Stay still.” His voice is barely audible when he takes two small steps closer to you, his bleeding wrist is forgotten about when he edges even closer, hands finding purchase on the wall you’re pressed against. His scent is intoxicating, he’s staring at you with a gaze full of equal parts desire and uncertainty. “Don’t move Y/N…”

“Jungkook…” You whisper, subconsciously wetting your own lips in preparation for what you think is about to happen.

“Please…” He exhales, swallowing thickly, “Stay… Exactly how you are.” His eyes close, dark eyelashes dusting the tops of his cheekbones. When his mouth opens again you register that while his fangs are still sharp and unmistakably inhuman, they’re shorter and less-threatening. His chin starts to tilt towards yours, lips still parted, shallow breaths warming your face.

Slowly his eyes are open again, barely, but his hooded stare is intense enough to make you weak at the knees and win your heart to explode in your chest, “The unfathomable desire to have you… makes me feel human again.”

“Jungkook, please-,” It’s a slender tattooed finger pressing gently to your lips that cuts you off, you know Jungkook is trying his best to keep calm, his features are tight and crumpled with something indescribable. His digit leaves your lips and travels to your chin, angling your face up to meet his.

“Don’t move.” He whispers.

“Okay…”

He hushes you, lightly shaking his head, “Don’t speak.”

It’s the sound of your own gasp that fills the silence when Jungkook’s blood-stained lips are a hair away from yours, the coolness of his metal lip ring pressed against your mouth further confirmation this is the closest he’s ever been. You peer up at him through long eyelashes, breath hitching, zoning in on the two tiny face tattoos that sit beneath his eyes.

Divine. Sinner.

“Please… Stay exactly as you are.” He reiterates seriously, with more determination.

And then he kisses you, showing you exactly how kisses are meant to be.

It’s the way his lips are softly pressed to yours, the metallic yet sweet hint of his blood lingering on them. It’s how his inked fingers quickly and roughly grip your hips, the hold strong enough to shatter your bones. It’s the way he’s pressing you harder and harder against the wall, the way you’re already desperate for more but more of what you’re unsure. It’s the way his fangs graze your lips when his tongue slides into your mouth, accompanied by a drawn-out hushed moan.

Your head is spinning, arms snaking over Jungkook’s broad shoulders just to keep yourself standing. Your legs are wobbly, your heart thumping, body burning with an indescribable heat that you’ve never experienced before. You’re lost to his kiss, simultaneously damned and saved. It’s as though two worlds are colliding, maybe it’s heaven and hell. Maybe it’s vampires and humans. Or maybe, it’s nothing more and nothing less than you and Jungkook.

You do more than simply let him kiss you, you kiss him back. Fervently, intently, as though your entire existence depends on it. It’s Jungkook knocking your legs apart with his thick thigh that wins you to gasp, smiling against his lips triumphantly.

“I can’t-,” He exhales with furrowed brows, the words slipping from his lips and straight onto yours with another kiss, a hungrier kiss. “I can’t stop, how is this possible?” He murmurs.

“I don’t want you to stop.” You emphasise your words with a gentle tug of his hair and something inside Jungkook snaps — He pulls himself to the other side of the basement with a heaving chest, kiss-swollen blood stained lips and wide eyes. Leaving you standing alone, disoriented and yearning.

“You need to leave.” Jungkook says curtly, looking everywhere in the room except you, completely in disbelief of what just happened. “Y/N you need to leave now, I don’t want to hurt you.” The way you know he means that sends a pang of something unfamiliar straight to your chest.

“You won’t.”

“I want to.” He admits, wetting his lips. “I… I want to hurt you.”

"What about the donation...?" You ask sheepishly, feeling confused and embarrassed all at once.

Jungkook swallows, he's breathing through his mouth heavily as though he's attempting to calm himself. "You're the one who said you were done donating. Lets part ways here, while we still can." The venom dripping from his tone makes you scoff, makes you angry.

You shake your head, determined legs taking you over to where he’s stood before any rational thoughts can stop you, “No. You don’t get to kiss me like that and pretend it never—”

Within the blink of an eye he crushes his lips to yours again, the familiar taste of his blood gifting your body a surge of energy. This kiss is different, if the last one were akin to two worlds colliding this one can only be described as two lost, broken hearts exploding and becoming whole. It’s messy, it’s desperate and loud. Both of you moaning and gasping for air while your tongues explore the other’s.

It's not until your back slams into the nearest wall, every accessory hung up hurling to the floor as dust clouds rush from the exposed bricks that you register he’s holding you. Your legs wrap round his waist, hands already deep in his raven hair, his hands are squeezing the fat of your ass cheeks with so much force you feel bruised.

“Jungkook… I want you.” You pant, reattaching your lips to his with more urgency.

He's resting his forehead to yours, peeling away from your lips for just a moment when his dark hooded eyes flutter open, his stare intense and unwavering, completely zoned in on you.

“If I had a soul it would already be yours.”

Suddenly he’s kissing you with everything he has, with everything he is. All his defences shattering only to be replaced by the lust-fuelled hunger surging both your bodies. With your back firm against the wall that’s barely standing, bricks tumbling to the ground from how hard you’re pushed against it, your legs snaking his middle keep you in place. It’s when Jungkook laces his fingers with yours, pinning them above your head that your eyes meet his again.

The satisfaction darkening his chiselled features is unmistakable. As is the relief, the need, the want, lust, desire, desperation and even the hint fear. It’s as though you’re looking straight into an emotional mirror, everything you’re feeling he’s feeling too. After one final kiss, a kiss so passionate not even Shakespeare himself could describe it, Jungkook’s sharp fangs are pressed to your neck and you gasp.

“You… You need to leave, now.” He rasps, finding the strength to pull away from you and aid your feet to the ground. “Leave.”

This time you don’t need telling twice, bruising and wine-coloured veins darken Jungkook’s eyes and you’re painfully reminded of what he is. And what could’ve just happened.

“S-sorry. I’m sorry.” You scramble up the stairs, hurling yourself out of his home as fast as you can, delirious and uncertain of what the future holds. The only thing on your mind being the sincerity behind Jungkook’s hooded gaze when those heart shattering words left his pierced, welcoming lips.

“If I had a soul it would already be yours.”

X

[hauntingmothgirl]

To Hell and Back PART 3

Hi so a lot of people liked that last part, thank you for the support, it really made me smile and made my day. If you have any suggestions/requests or want me to write a specific scene then feel free to ask, my dms are open, but for now here’s part 3! This series spans across the ending of season 4 if it wasn’t already clear enough.

✰

        The flight to Windsor, Ontario, Canada felt longer than it should have. Trying to avoid Spencer’s prying and profiling eyes was harder than it seemed. Even staring at her book wasn’t enough to keep him from noticing how long she had been on a single page. And the looks the team were now giving to a certain profiler who seemed to be studying every movement of his co-worker were hard to ignore. 

        By the time the plane had touched down, Y/n had cleaned up her space and was sitting on the edge of her seat, book in hand and satchel across her chest. As soon as it was clear to leave Y/n was out of her seat, mumbling a thank you to a flight attendant and hurrying down the steep steps. The normal cars they had assigned to them were directly outside, waiting for the team. Flinging an SUV door open and hurrying into the back, ducking behind the headrest, she tried her best to see over her hiding spot to check if the hour ride to R.C.M.P. Headquarters was going to be one filled with torture, or one filled with awkward silence. 

        She was just about to sit up, realizing how idiotic she looked and how stupid she would feel if someone spotted her when an uncoordinated Reid tried to hurry down the steps without looking, well… hurried. A grimace settled onto his face as he squinted through the sunlight trying to spot her. Rossi was next behind him, taking slow steps. Clapping a hand on his back and leaning in, Rossi muttered something in Reid’s ear, smiled and then started for the car. Reid’s demeanor shifted, his shoulders went stiff and then relaxed, his expression softened and then fell. He took off for the next car. 

        Y/n sat upright and stuffed her nose into her book as Rossi entered the car, pulling his seatbelt on before finally starting the car. “You can sit in the front if you like, you know?” He offered, looking up in the mirror to meet her eyes. Hesitating, she dropped her book and moved to the door. Settling into the front passenger seat, she forced herself to keep her eyes forward. The drive started out fine at first, Rossi didn’t try to make conversation and let the silence flow comfortably around them. After the first 20 minutes of driving and staring down endless highways, Y/n had grown restless and drew her book back to her, in need of something to occupy her mind. As she read her eyes grew heavy, sore, and her head fell forward slowly. Every so often she fought against closing her eyes fully and instead found herself sinking further and further into her seat. By the time she had woken up, the drive was over. 

  ✰

         “Come on Sunshine,” a voice laughed near her ear, startling her out of her sleep. Craning her now sore neck to peer up at the person who stood with her door open, trying to unbuckle her now, she rubbed her eyes. “Have a good nap?” He chuckled, taking her satchel from out of the backseat. She grimaced, taking his hands to help lift herself up, steadying her balance. “Where are we, Derek?” She asked, taking a look around. “Headquarters, they dropped your bags off at the hotel, told me to give you your room key for tonight. You were knocked out for a while, Rossi didn’t wanna wake you when we got to the hotel. Don’t worry, we didn’t go through any of your belongings,” he added with a smirk. Looking up at the headquarters, she smoothed her shirt and pulled her into a ponytail, trying to look decent, or at least as if she hadn’t been asleep for the past hour. “Thank you,” she mumbled, taking her satchel from his hands. “No problem.” 

           A thought popped into her head as she pulled the satchel onto her shoulder, “Aren't you supposed to be with Prentiss?” she asked, twisting to look for the other profiler. “Yes, mother,” he chuckled, “I’m heading there now, but the teams inside and I'm apparently on wakeup duty. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a job to do,” he answered, walking backwards towards another SUV. “Drive safe,” she called after him, turning to the big building as he called back, “You know it.” 

        The building was big and red. Bigger on the inside than she anticipated, multiple floors, lots of bustle and busy people. The faint smell of peppermint and air freshener wafted to her nose. As she entered the building she caught sight of the rest of her team, giving a small smile as she started towards them. “Morning sleepyhead,” JJ cooed. Her stomach did flip flops as she came to a stop in front of them, locking eyes with Spencer. “Very funny,” she retorted as the team started to set a stride. 

        A small elevator sat at the far end of the room, a door titled, “Stairs Access,” stood just across from it. On any normal day Y/n would’ve chosen the stairs, she had always had a problem with the close quarters of an elevator, the uncertainty and danger of such an unstable device had always left her off put. But a long way to the ninth floor on the stairs would not only be physically tiring, but would most definitely be accompanied by a certain doctor to her left who had been dying to talk to her alone. Still, the team became increasingly interested when Y/n stepped in with them. “Someone’s getting brave, huh?” JJ chuckled, “Just too tired to deal with the stairs today.”

        The hallway the doors opened to was short and led out to a giant office full of people. Tan walls extended on each side, the tiles on the floor reflected the lights above them. A man met Rossi in the entrance of the room, exchanging pleasantries and introducing the team, it was impossible not to notice the way Spencer’s gaze kept flickering to hers. Two red offices stood at the far end of the room and the room to the right of them. Walking in between the desks and making his way to one of the rooms, Jeff led the team, “I've got a victim board and timelines set up on monitors in the conference room. Anything you need, you've got the run of the place.” 

         “We appreciate it,” Rossi replied lightly.” “Don’t thank me, Thank the unsub. He's the one that put you all in charge.”

        Something about that last remark hit Y/n the wrong way, wrinkling her nose in agitation. JJ excused herself to go talk to Garcia as Y/n took in the room. A long conference table sat in the middle of the room, six chairs pushed into it. A tv hung on the left wall, faces of the victims littering the screen. Rossi took in the site, then moved around the table to make room for Reid and Y/n. Following Reid, she took a second to go over the tv soon realizing that she had already seen the pictures in the file JJ had supplied her with. Realizing that everyone’s backs were to them, Spencer made the quick decision to steal a look at her. Turning on her heel to walk away from the screen, her eyes reached his, the pleading look on his face was enough to make her stomach turn. Guilt flooded her, all he probably wants is his best friend back, this isn’t fair to him. Did I ruin our friendship?  Turning around to take her place next to Rossi. “You believe that he killed all these people?” Reid asked, his eyes turning back to the screen, “Fits the profile,” Officer Jeff responded absentmindedly. “How so?” Rossi asked, clearly quizzing his former student, everyone in this room knew of the Unsubs history, but Jeff answered nonetheless. “He got a recent physical trauma. Could be a stressor. Wide disparity of victims. No bodies. Possible border cross. Two entirely different terrains,” He paused, “To pull that off, you'd have to be smart, you'd have to be organized, mobile, physical.” His missing leg ran through Y/n‘s mind once again, before the accident this all could’ve been possible, but now? After such physical trauma? It didn't make sense. 

        “Military background gives you all that,” Rossi finished for him.

 “Exactly,” Officer Bedwell hummed.

        “It appears as though he clusters his victims into men, then women, and then back to men again.” Spencer’s voice raised in tone, confusion heavy in his voice. 

        “What does that tell you?” Officer Bedwell asked.

“At the moment, nothing.”

        They were informed that he hadn’t contacted family, nor a lawyer and was awaiting an interrogation. Hotch was the last person to talk, deducing that since this man had contacted the FBI, he would want to speak to whoever he believed was the most in charge. 

        The interrogation room was dimly lit, only one light directly overhead, the room behind the glass was filled with two officers, Rossi, Reid and Y/n. Crammed into the few chairs there were, Y/n watched, her brows furrowed, as Hotch sat down at the table. William was a tall man, broad shoulders and muscular arms, he sat in silence, a detached look sewn onto his features. A black goatee rested above his lips, his hair was cropped in a buzz cut, understandable due to his military background. His body shows his training too, he sat straight up, shoulders back, hands on his thighs, his legs slightly spread. The pinnacle of perfect posture. 

        It was silent as Hotch announced himself as the behavioral analysis unit chief from the FBI. William’s face didn't change as his eyes lifted to Hotch’s, “You’re here to analyze me.” This wasn’t a question, but a statement. “No, I’m here to take your confession and find out where you dumped your victims,” Hotch corrected. Y/n could see the technique Hotch was using beginning to form, diminishing any hope of negotiation. Setting himself in charge in the room and demanding the attention, making it clear that this was Hotch’s room, not Heightower’s, taking away any slimmer of wiggle room around the conversation. He continued, “Or are you wasting my time?” 

        Y/n’s boss was always great at keeping his voice firm but somewhat monotone when speaking to unsubs, not letting emotion intercede unless it was directly needed. “I gave you names, I gave you dates.” William bounced around the subject, his voice low and gravely, as if he hadn’t spoken in hours. Hotch reigned the conversation back onto topic easily, “You didn’t give me a dump site.” It was silent for a moment, as if an unspoken staring contest had started, the Unit Chief’s jaw was set, William was withholding information and he wasn’t intending on opening up anytime soon. “You were a sergeant,” Hotch started, again not a question, a statement intended to gain an emotional reaction, “You led troops, probably lost men.” Y/n’s eyes flickered to William’s just as he let out a hesitant, “a few.” 

        “What would their parents feel if they didn’t know whether their sons were dead or alive?” Hotch tried. The tension shifted uncomfortably. A cord was struck, “Don’t lecture me on notifying families, I’ve been on those doorsteps,” as William spoke his voice rose slightly from the whisper it had started out as. He’s protective of these men, his angry tone shows Hotch’s words affect him, why is he trying so hard to make us not see that? “No one cares about those people, why should I?” His head shakes as he says it, even his own body is rejecting the words he’s saying, subconsciously disagreeing with them. Hotch’s words have caught him off guard, this technique is making him emotional.

        Rossi’s voice interrupts Y/n’s thoughts, “Here we go.” 

        “What do you mean?” An officer to the right of Y/n’s chair asks, he leans against the interrogation window, unknowingly making her scoot her legs closer to herself. He mindlessly takes up so much of the little space beside her that she cringes uncomfortably away from him. “An interrogation doesn’t really start until you get the first lie,” Rossi finishes, so he picked up on it too. Hotch’s voice silences all of them as he resumes the conversation through the glass, “See that’s just the thing William, you were out there every night. You took their photographs, you checked off their names in a notebook,” William remains blank as he mutters, “So?” Hotch grimaces at the answer and then continues, “Your behavior was more like a protector, like someone in the army doing a bed check.” If Hotch’s words resonate with anything at all to him, he doesn’t show it and lets him continue. “You’ve gone to a lot of trouble to confess to a crime you didn’t commit,” Hotch accuses. 

        Suddenly all reservation in William is gone, his lips quiver as he spits the words out angrily, “The folks on the street, did they tell you people were missing?” It's like he’s trying to prove their absence rather than his own guilt. 

        “If my team is here there are cases we are not working on, you are wasting our time.” 

        “10 people dead, huh?” Swallowing harshly, scowling, challenging Hotch, “That’s not enough for you?” 

        “I’ve watched the tape of you at the border cross over and over again, you wait until every guard is out of the booth before you drive into it,” Hotch raises his voice, as he leans closer to the table, “if you wanted to kill people you had your chance.” 

        William’s voice is booming now, his face enraged, “Are you investigating these murders or not?!” His whole body shakes violently as silence fills the room. “So that’s what this is all about?” Hotch questions, “Making sure we investigate?” What a way to do so. “If you thought people were being killed you should’ve gone to the police in Detroit.” Another shudder rips through William, “I already did,” his voice is low as it break. “3 times. They told me the kind of people I was looking for disappeared.” His voice trembled, the light reflecting off tears in his eyes, “They said that’s the way life on the street works.” Silence enveloped them again. 

        Struggling to keep his composure, he enunciated every word, “Do. You. Believe. The. People. I. Showed. You. Are. Missing?” 

        “I believe it's possible.”

        Rage wracked through his frame once again, “Don’t give me a political answer!”

        Hotch hesitated, giving himself a moment before he responded, “Tell me about what happened the night before the border cross.” William opened his mouth and then shut it before starting, “I did a head count,” he began. “Every night for the past month, like we do in Baghdad. That night I saw a boy named Charles wasn’t where he usually camped down.” The mention of a boy sends a pang of pain through Y/n’s chest, wondering how old the boy must have been. Hopefully he had meant a young man, rather than a young boy. The idea of a child in the case was a sore subject. Swallowing the hard lump in her throat, she hoped she hadn't shown any visible signs of discomfort. 

        “So I made another pass.”

“He didn’t turn up?”

        “By the morning I knew he was gone,” another scowl had set on his face, though this time it wasn’t targeted at the man across from him. “William,” Hotch started, sympathy thick in his voice, “People don’t do what you did out of honor.” He paused, “They do it out of love.” William’s lack of a response was enough to confirm their suspicions. “Who were you looking for on the streets every night.” His brows furrowed as William prepared himself before continuing, “I got home from Iraq, first thing my mother told me was that my baby sister Lee was on the streets.” Y/n’s heart sunk, with the way he’d been acting there was no way this story was going to end well. Rossi must have noticed it too because out of the corner of Y/n’s eye she watched him shake his head slightly, turning away from the glass before coming back to it, exhaling roughly. 

        William continued, “She asked me to find her.”

        “But you couldn’t?” Hotch pried.

        “I managed once. Brought her home, we got her fed.” His eyes fell, staring longingly as his voice broke yet again, “She even wore my dog tags. For good luck.” Y/n closed her eyes for a moment, sighing. No matter how long you were on this job, no matter what horrors you’d seen, it never gets easier to hear from the relatives of people who’ve gone missing. The team was evidence of that, Rossi’s head was to the side, face contorted in uncomfort. The officers sat quietly, staring at their laps. Though Hotch had to remain indifferent in order to keep control of the room, his face was no longer hard and stern. While he held his lips together in a tight line, a deep sadness sat behind his eyes, something only his colleagues who’d worked with him for so long would pick up on. 

         “Two weeks later, she slipped back onto the streets.” Composure was no longer an option for William, his breathing came out in short, quick breaths as his chest visibly shook. The tears spilled over, “That was it,” he barely managed to let out, another shaky breath in.

         “William, you’ve got so much information about the other potential victims, why not Lee?” Hotch asked, though this was a raw subject, it was still vital to know. Blinking rapidly in order to control the tears and reign his emotions back in, Heightower replied, “I hid it in a spare tire, in my car.” That explained why none of the team had any knowledge about Lee, organized and brilliant, William had intentionally left her out of the files he created for us. He wouldn't have even been considered had the officers known how close he really was to one of the victims, Y/n pondered. “I needed to wait until I was sure,” while the tears had stopped and his breathing was now in control, his hands still shook slightly under the table as he finished, “that you were on board.”

         That was all the team needed to hear, Frankie excused herself from the room. Walking down the hall as she assembled her thoughts. The car would definitely be in evidence somewhere, how they hadn’t managed to find the new piece of the puzzle was surprising, confused she wandered the hall trying to find the stairs. 

        The sound of the stairwell door opening made Y/n falter. She’d reached a platform between the set of stairs, eyes glancing to the door at the end of the platform that would take her to the hallway. Stairwells were where most assaults happened, but due to the fact that she was in a police department, she pushed that thought to the back of her head and continued to the next set of stairs. It wasn’t until she heard the pitter patter of quick footsteps behind her, that she realized she should have taken her chances with the elevator. 

        “ Y/n?” A pang of dread ran through her body in slow waves. Turning slowly on her heel, her eyes met Dr. Reid’s. His face was contorted, his eyes fixed on the ground, then fluttered back up to hers. “I-” 

        “Did I miss something on Heightower?” His eyebrows furrowed, confusion making it’s way on to his features. 

        “No- I just-” 

“Does this have anything to do with this case or a previous one?”

        “No-”

“So this is not work related?”

        “No, it’s not, but-”

        “Then we should not be having this conversation.” Starting back down the stairs, he was next to her in a moment. “I know that, but the other night I didn’t mean to make it seem like-” “Spencer,” her nose scrunched up in uncomfort. “Please, don't do this.” Another flight of steps was through. At this point she was counting them down in her head. 

        “Y/n, I wasn’t trying to hurt you, it just seemed like the worst time and I didn’t want you to-” “Spencer, please.” One more flight to go. 

        “Okay but give me a moment to-” 

         “Spencer!” 

        Blinking back tears, she tried to reason with him. “That was the single most humiliating thing I’ve ever done. Just having to look you in the eyes right now is unbelievably painful. Knowing that our friendship will probably never go back to the way it was is killing me and you bringing attention to it every five seconds is making it worse,” she rambled. “I mean for God’s sake Morgan won't stop trying to profile me and Hotch looks at me like a kicked puppy. I can tell everyone here is second guessing my decision to come back and I’m already having a hard enough time proving that I’m okay without your worried glances making everything worse so please. Give me some space, some time before I have to have this conversation with you.” 

        Spencer’s eyes flickered down, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize.”

        “I just can’t do this right now Spencer.” Opening the door and entering the lobby she made her way to an officer, flashing her badge and asking where the evidence storage room was.

✰

okay that’s part 3, again, i hope it didn’t disappoint. and if it did then, again, that's chill too. tagged everyone who wanted a part 3. i know it was pretty long but i wanted to get a lot of the dialogue out of the way so i can focus on the reader and spencer in the next couple parts, rather than just the case, although that is pretty important. thank yall so much for the kind words!! and again if you have any suggestions or recommendations just ask, and if you want to be tagged in part 4, let me know! if you want me to stop tagging you then let me know that too lol. part 4 will be up tomorrow. have a beautiful day loves :)

@anarchy-n-glitter i love you sm, thank you for the support lol.

@reidselle​

@doctorspenceryeet​

@ashwarren32

@reidsbookclub​

Part 2

Part 4

Masterlist

[cherryblossomtease]

Chapter 15

18+ only

warnings and summary - Masterlist

Because sometimes all you need is a simple reminder of who started this mess in the first damn place 💜

Warnings : as always 18+ only please- dom Zemo, sub Bucky, sub reader, punishment, m/m, m/m/f, light bondage

Authors Notes: Really didn't think I would be posting this weekend but it's a holiday in the states so why not! Still working on the rest by you know, neglecting everything that matters to create this fictional world. Anyhow, I can honestly say this is by far the most graphic story I've written so I'm a little nervous but it's already done, can't change it now, and I honestly don't want to! That said I hope you enjoy reading as much as I did writing!

~

Nothing lasts forever, especially when it’s this good. And this fabricated reality is about as good as it gets. Still, you know this boat will dock soon and goodbyes will be said. There’s really no way around it, try as you might to come up with a plan to talk Bucky into staying. Even now as you fight to stay asleep, your brain is working hard to create a solution while you refuse to give into your worries so early in the day.

You turn onto your stomach ignoring the dark thoughts, choosing instead to enjoy the feel of a strong arm across your back and a leg, hairy and heavy over both of yours.

Settling again with a content sigh, sleep starts to pull you back under. Thank the stars. You really aren’t in the mood— even if your dreams apparently are.

And what had you been dreaming about anyway?

A little house on a wide cliff overlooking water, and something else? The harder you try to remember the more you feel yourself slipping back into that dream space.

There was a small animal. What was it? A rabbit? Its fluffy body too close to the edge of the cliff. But in the dream you’d stayed standing in the doorway of the little house too indifferent to go and save it….

You feel bodies moving lazily, a stream of breath along your back that tickles; arms and legs and the men they belong to not fully awake and starting to stir like you, even as you quickly slip back into sleep until you’re standing in the doorway of that house again with the warm winds on your face and a view of the French sea below. The drop is dangerous. Deadly even.

Why haven’t you started talking Bucky into staying yet? Because you don’t like thinking about it too much. That's why. You start walking towards the edge of the cliff and you’re fully aware of your worlds crossing over —real thoughts present in your dream.

It’s probably bad luck to resent good deeds, after all that’s what he’s leaving you for. He wants to go off and live the life of the hero he never got to be. That and to keep Zemo’s location safe; but that’s besides the point. Hmm… Look at me, selfish even in my dreams. You smile when you shouldn’t.

Staring over the edge of the cliff it’s suddenly clear how unstable the ground is here and you gasp as it crumbles beneath your feet without warning.

Your eyes open with a start.

Well, that was a bit on the nose. Your subconscious does like to lay it on a thick sometimes, especially when you continue to ignore the things bothering you for too long and you've been setting these feelings aside since the text came through.

But just as quickly as you’re left to shake the shadow of the eerie dream, your frown fades replaced by a slow smile.

There is a very familiar poking at your ass that can sometimes be annoying-- this morning it’s welcome. You reach back and feel for the body that the greeting belongs too, comforted by the warmth and solid muscle of Bucky’s thigh under his tight boxers.

Mmmmm, the source of my distress and my desire, you think and grin into the pillows with a soft moan when his hand, hot and strong takes hold of your hip, massaging as he presses his erection into you.

You’ll talk to him about your dreams later.

Feeling a draft where there should be warmth, you open an eye to find breaks of sunlight in the space between Helmut’s arm and torso. When you turn your head you’re met with the sight of his bare chest, broad and covered in the softest dark hair. His necklace hangs off center, and you, as always, are helpless to it.

Your hand leaves Bucky’s thigh and your fingers slide over the delicate links in the chain and down into the soft chest hair as you turn your head to find he and Bucky locked in one hell of a kiss for so early in the day. It must have been their movement or the sound of their lips that woke you and pulled you from the doom of your fatal fall.

Dreams are so strange…

Your heart flutters when Helmut lays his hand over yours pressing it tight to his chest. “Good morning love birds.” You snicker and watch Bucky pull away from Zemo looking a little embarrassed. He does pause to kiss your cheek however before getting out of bed with a long stretch.

“So where the hell are we anyway?” He asks going to the balcony door, looking out at the passing waves. “Feels like nowhere.”

Zemo is looking down at you, stroking your profile, kissing your nose. “We should be well within the middle of it actually.” He answers, eyes still fixed on you.

“Perfect” You say softly letting him pull you so close that he blocks out the light as your lips meet.

“Breakfast is ready sir,” Oeznik calls from outside the bedroom door.

Zemo grumbles at the interruption but you’re starving. “What? I’m not going anywhere” You huff turning away, trying to escape. “You just said so yourself. I've got no place to go.”

“All by design” He smiles and lets you get up, giving your ass a smack as you go. Bucky is watching from the doorway and laughs at your yelp-hop-rub combination.

Swearing under your breath you go over to the closet, grab your silk robe and pull it on over your shorts and tank top, yawning as you drag your feet over to Bucky. You pat his stomach, kissing him quickly. “Hungry?”

“Famished.”

“Lets go up.” You say tugging at him as Zemo gets up and puts on his own robe across the room. It’s not the thick one you liked from before the raft, but silk like yours— Tom Ford if memory serves— god his influence is strong. How the hell do you remember this stuff?

You watch him scratch at the back of his messy nest of hair like he always does in the mornings, somehow looking both sexy and adorable, alternating between the two with the ease of flicking a light switch. You can only smile at the enigma that is Helmut Zemo and pull Bucky away from the doors.

The three of you leave the room shuffling along, making your way down the hall to the den. Zemo trails you and Bucky accepting a small espresso from Oeznik as he watches the way you and your Sergeant interact. Neither you nor Bucky are necessarily morning people and though it’s nearly ten, you’re both somewhat irritable now that you’re actually moving around and slightly hungover from yesterdays sangrias as you make your way up to the top deck where breakfast will be served.

The sun is so bright you huff about not being able to find your sunglasses and Bucky accuses you of being a diva. The only appropriate reaction is to give him a shove.

Zemo snorts a laugh at your near sibling like banter which you’d established after so many months together, but once you find your glasses on the bar counter and get a fresh cup of coffee and a bloody Mary chaser in your body you’re feeling like a new woman ready to conquer the day… a day spent doing nothing really.

It’s all so casually decadent that it’s nearly sinful. Whats the one? The sin that doesn’t sound as good as lust but feels better after all that fornicating you’ve been doing— Sloth? Yes, you think reaching for what’s left of your blood Mary from the lounge chair, the ultimate of all the sins. Thou shalt not be a lazy ass sloth all day on your yacht.

Cheers.

You read on the deck for a while, play a few rounds of shuffle board with Bucky by the pool and attempt to best Zemo at chess in the den.

Lunch is wonderful, and you think you will need to meet this mystery chef at some point before the trip is over followed by a nap on the bedroom balcony.

When you wake up in the very late afternoon you venture down the hall with your book and unexpectedly find the men in your life moaning on the floor of the den in a tangle of beautifully tanned arms and legs. So you very quietly slip past, feeling a flush rise up your neck to your cheeks highlighting your wide but tight lipped smile.

You stay above decks giving them privacy feeling only the slightest twinge of jealousy. Not because you think you’ve been excluded but because you could use another session like last night.

A shiver runs deep in your belly thinking of the way Helmut brought you to climax, but you’re still more than happy to give them time alone. After all, you’ve had the Baron to yourself for far longer than Bucky.

You sink down onto the upper deck sofa, the image of them entwined, the sounds of their heavy breathing and Bucky’s near innocent moans enough to make you consider touching yourself but you wait, letting the urge build, one of them if not both will take care of you later.

So when Bucky comes up and finds you with a funny look on his face you’re completely confused. “Whats wrong?” You ask putting your book down.

He’s poured a drink and sits down beside you on the couch.

“I don’t know if I can do it.” He says shaking his head tossing back the bourbon.

“Do what?” You have an idea but you thought for sure he’d be eager to try, at least it looked like they were well on their way to his first time.

“Letting him control me, I’ve never had someone tell me no. Not like this.”

“Oh” You smile. It’s the no sex. The lack of it is a cruel form of control but the end results are glorious, if he could just be patient enough. “He won’t let you come?” You ask a little more patronizing than you’d intended.

“No!” Bucky whines taking his cue from you and you stifle your laughter. He’s so cute, even in the throws of his sexual agony. “And it’s making me crazy. I mean I’m already crazy but this is different.” He looks around and leans closer to you. “If you were to so much as look at my cock right now, I’d be done.” He says under his breath.

You let go and laugh rolling your eyes. Dramatics seem to come as naturally as submission to him. “That’s against the rules.” You warn eyeing him sidelong and attempting to go back to your book.

“I can’t take it. Fuck the rules.” He says again pulling the paperback from your hand.

You wave your finger in his face. “James. You’re not allowed.” You say playfully.

“Please.” He begs running his finger down your cheek, brushing your neck and gliding along your clavicle where he knows you’re sensitive.

“I can’t!” You lean away a little surprised by his attempt.

“He won’t know!”

You shake your head “I know but…” You try not to smile.

“I can’t take it.” He insists leaning in to kiss you. “I promise; it won’t take long.”

You give in and laugh sensing his desperation as you kiss. He does feel tense. The muscles of his arm and shoulder are wound tight as a chord. You smile against his lips letting him ease you down onto the couch, your book dropping to the floor as he moans, sliding his hand down your thigh, pushing your knee up and his own hips forward letting you feel what you’re fairly certain is the most rock solid hard on you’ve ever had pressed to your body. You whisper his name as his lips find their way to your neck and his hand slides between you to free himself from those amazing shorts.

“Shame, I had every intention of making your patience worth the effort. But you do love to prolong your torment, don’t you soldat.”

You gasp and Bucky hangs his head as Zemo comes sauntering over. Your laughter is a mix of nerves and feeling like you’ve been caught sneaking around with a boy like a damn teenager. It’s been years since you’ve felt a rush like this. Leave it to the Baron to stir that old excitement again.

“Don’t move” Zemo orders, pointing a finger in your face. You freeze, legs open where Bucky was, your arms tight at your sides. “Sit” He growls at Bucky who obeys begrudgingly as he slides back onto the couch.

Very quickly Zemo shoves your legs closed and grabs you by the arm pulling you up to standing. You lean away as he shakes his head keeping you close, his hold so tight you wince “I thought you knew better by now” He scolds you sounding disappointed.

“I told him not too?” You try looking as innocent as possible. You truly had no intentions of fucking him, but maybe a quick hand job?

There is a flicker of excitement in Zemo’s eyes. It's been so long since you’ve given him a reason to really go for it and you hold in your smile because you’re meant to be sad and hang your head. “I’m sorry Baron.”

He ignores your attempts to apologize and pulls you over so that you’re standing in front of Bucky. He looks you both over for a moment thinking and then smiles. You don’t know if you love or hate to see him looking so pleased. Nothing “good” ever comes of that smile.

“Look James.” He says, waiting until Bucky raises his head. “I want you to see what listening to your eager cock and not my rules get gets you— and her.” He tells Bucky before giving you his undivided attention.

Zemo turns your back to Bucky and you feel his hand between your shoulder blades pushing just a little. You bend at the waist, not all the way, just enough to make sure Bucky knows where his attention should be.

This flouncy little designer sun dress you’ve changed into after your nap only helps direct his gaze as Zemo drags the fabric up slowly so that the reveal of your ass is yet another way to torment him all on its own and you give yourself over to the Baron and wonder how bad this will be.

“Pull them down.” He tells you, his hand smoothing over your simple lace panties. His voice is not so angry as it was when he found the two of you, but every bit as firm, and you glance up at him as you hook your thumbs into the waist band. He nods and you quickly obey, pulling your underwear over the curve of your hips and ass and swear you hear Bucky groan when you bend to pull them from your ankles letting him see the diamond shape of your pussy from behind for just a second, your smile hidden from view.

When you stand again, Zemo offers his forearm. You rest your stomach against him, your hand gripping his shirt, the other you will have to try very hard not to cover your backside with because you know that the breeze will be the last nice thing that you feel.

He tosses your dress back up holding you, adjusting the way he stands just a little so that you are safe but immobile.

“Count them off; to five.” He says leaning just a bit closer. The tone in his voice is confident. Zemo knows that you’re well aware of what this means.

“Yes Baron.” You say exhaling, trying to prepare, but five? Fuck. He does not intend on holding back. If he was being playful he would give you ten or more, but five? He knows you won’t be able to take more that that.

You dig your fingers into his forearm and hold your breath.

The first strike makes you cry out.

The way Zemo can raise his hand and bring it down on your ass is unrivaled. He doesn’t mess around. There is no teasing, no playing, no cute little taps to warm you up. Just instant punishment.

“One.”

Your voice shakes and the rousing heat of adrenaline spreads through your arms and legs.

Again he lifts his hand and brings it down quickly with a stinging force that sends shock waves through your body. Your cry is weaker this time, trailing longer.

“Two.”

You pull his shirt tighter into your fist, your cheeks are on fire already when you feel the air stir as his hand rises again. You wonder if Bucky is watching, you wonder if he see’s how your thighs flex and your flesh shakes when the Baron strikes you.

You close your eyes and draw in your bottom lip trying not to moan, but you arch your back and your hips begin to circle ever so slightly with the anticipation of the next smack. You’re practically whimpering as you offer up your backside for more.

Zemo can feel the light vibration of pleasure sounding in your chest and his laughter is a low, very amused rumble as he raises his hand just a little higher this time.

The next smack lands and you toss your head back with a gasp. You would have gone to your knees if he wasn’t strong enough to hold you up. “Three” You whisper but you don’t move. The air brushes your pussy, wet in spite of your reddening skin.

“Don’t look away.” Zemo says.

There is the answer to your previous question. Bucky likes it, but it’s not always easy for him to watch.

“James!” Zemo snaps and waits. Bucky must be looking again because you feel the Baron move.

The fourth strike comes and you steady yourself knowing you can take it, wanting it, loving it as much as your feel your legs shaking. “Four”

You’re breathing hard, as you anticipate the final blow, desperate for it to be over but sorry for it to end. You rest against him for just a second feeling both safe in his hold and powerless to his dominance.

When the last of your punishment lands you hang your head, rounding your spine unable to offer yourself anymore. You can not pretend and this is why he’s given you so few.

Letting your hips drop as your body shudders and a single tear falls, you whisper, “Five” And only Helmut hears you say it.

Very gently he pulls your dress down, the soft cotton is cool over your burning skin and he turns you around to face him.

He brushes the tear from your cheek, holding you in such a way that you can go limp in his arms. “It wasn’t that bad, you’re just out of practice.” He says smiling at you knowing it wasn’t kind either.

You’d love for him to know just once. Maybe let Bucky give him a slap across the ass to make it fair. But when you look at him the thought is all wrong if not hilarious and you just shrug a little and hang your head again, resting on his chest.

“No breaking rules.” He scolds affectionately, “Even if you’re only trying to help. Understood?”

“Yes Baron.” Your voice is very small.

He gives a nod, kisses your forehead and looks over his shoulder at James. “So, is this what you wanted?”

“No.”

“No… no I don’t think it is.” He agrees. “But I understand. She’s damn near impossible to resist still you must learn to control yourself. Apparently I’ve not made that clear. Perhaps a more direct approach.”

You both look at him wide eyed. What’s more direct than this you think not even close to recovered from your spanking.

“Both of you, go down to our bedroom.” He says as though nothing has ever been more obvious “Take off your clothes. Wait for me on the bed.”

You look at Bucky. He looks at you.

“You fucked up,” You mouth to him.

Bucky just gets up and pushes past you both.

*

“I suppose you could say I’ve had to get creative with my plans for you. I know that pain is something you can’t respond to in ways that she can.” Zemo says, smiling as he glances down at Bucky and then over his shoulder at you on your knees behind him. “Have you finished?”

You look up from what you’re doing, hoping it’s right. “Yes, I think so?”

He comes around to look at the rope binding Bucky’s wrists. It’s just for show to heighten the experience. Of course Bucky could break free if he wanted to— his strength is no match for a few rough fibers— but this is a training of the mind as well as the body. “You see, pleasure can be just as awful.” Zemo says, his voice making you shiver as he checks your work, tugging and tightening the rope a little more.

Leaning in close, he strokes Bucky’s jaw, his finger reaching to trace the spine of his ear and you smile when the hairs on Bucky’s right arm raise and Zemo loses the air of control for a second simply becoming the man who cares for the other deeply. “The irony of tying you to a chair to satisfy you is not lost on me, based on what I know of your past. But if you can endure it, I promise it will be nothing like the pain you’ve known. I could never hurt you in that way. Still, if at any time this is too much, if it triggers memories that change it from what it’s meant to be, please— James— say the word, your word and it stops.”

Bucky nods. “I will” He says softly.

“Nothing now?” Zemo asks genuinely wanting to know. Bucky shakes his head. “No, nothing.”

Zemo gives a confident nod and kisses the back of Bucky’s head patting his cheek a little harder than he needs too. “I only want to make you feel good— eventually.” He teases and Bucky rolls his eyes with a small laugh.

Pleased, Zemo pushes up and goes to sit in the soft chair across the room, notably more comfortable than the one Bucky has been placed in. Although the more obvious differences being, Zemo is not bound, Zemo is not naked, and Zemo has not been so gently stroked and toyed with that he’s been left with a perfectly vulnerable erection like Bucky has.

You’d had a hard time focusing on the ropes as the Baron made it happen. The way he’d taken Bucky in hand, winding down the length of his sex was in a word, mesmerizing. And when Bucky made that sound, that soft, pleading sound and Zemo stopped — his brow raised with such smug confidence— you wondered who would break first, you or Bucky. He’d quickly brought his hand up with one last tease, his fingers swirling around the curving head of Bucky’s member only to let go as though he’d lost interest.

Bucky’s groan was deep. He was beyond frustrated, but instead of breaking out of his restrains and fucking one of the two of you, he sat there just waiting to be punished for breaking rules in the first place.

He watches as you come and kneel before him, naked yourself as you’ve been told to be. He actually looks slightly scared but mostly curious. His erection is as always flawlessly pretty, arching up and back, smooth while perfectly veined and so inciting.

You only know what it is you’re meant to do to him because you’ve had it done to you before. You figure it’s very similar, only the mechanics are different because his is a man. If Zemo doesn’t approve, he’ll tell you.

The Baron in charge picks up his drink, the ice rattling as he takes a sip and lets the scene settle in his sights for a moment. He likes to see the two of you together, his two helpless things— his to play with and his to love.

“Begin.”

Bucky inhales, but you smile at him to show that it won’t hurt— it’ll just drive him mad.

First you take the little bottle of body oil from the floor and put some in your hands rubbing them together.

He raises his brow watching you and starts to relax thinking he might understand now. You take him in hand and start to stroke, you are after all very good at this. Over and over again, up and down his long, thick shaft, curving your hand over the head of his cock until he moans and rolls his eyes shut. When he opens them he does seem a bit confused by this sudden attention and he flashes a smile because it feels so good. If this is all that’s been planned, he could get used to this sort of punishment.

The room is quiet, there’s nothing but the soft hum of the ship, his breathing and the wonderfully obscene sound of the oil you’re using against his skin as you work faster…

It’s not long before you feel him stiffen and his breath grows quicker, his thighs flex, his hips raise an inch and he starts to moan softly, a staccato sound of pleasure that makes even your heart beat faster. He’s been waiting and suffering through so much you can feel the joy of release seeping into every inch of his body.

“You feel it happening?” Zemo asks softly. “The start, the pressure mounting? You see, she is very good. And she will get you there James, every time— right to the edge”

You yank your hand away and he jerks forward mouth open cock twitching with the start of an orgasm he will not have.

“To the edge” Zemo chuckles. “A cruel punishment for a greedy man who must learn to wait.”

Bucky quickly lifts his head, the realization flashing in his eyes as his chest rises and falls. He looks down at you.

You smile and reach for him again.

*

“Please” He begs breathless.

“Not yet” Zemo says leaning forward a bit in his seat, the drink in his hand all but forgotten. You notice the ice has long since melted as you wait for permission, watching over your shoulder.

He gives you a nod and you turn back to Bucky.

Wrapping your hand around him again, you feel him so solid he’s like stone. His thighs are flexed, his hips raise up in the chair as you begin to jerk your hand up and down and the light reflecting off the oil makes you both shine like gold.

He moans and you watch the muscles of his abs flex as he feels the orgasm coming on, helpless to it and your skilled hand.

“I’m going to come.” He groans sounding sorry for and drops his hips.

“No, you won’t. I did not say that you can” Zemo says like the villain behind you.

“I can’t it hold back” Bucky pants, his voice is thin he sounds like he very well might lose control and you feel him pulse in your palm. You twist your hand around sliding it down to the base thinking it might help hold him off if your focus is less near the collection of nerve endings.

Zemo stands and comes to you, tapping your shoulder. You let him go with a quick up and down and Bucky’s disappointment is the saddest thing you’ve ever heard.

When Zemo looks down at the wonderfully pitiful sight, Bucky shuts his eyes. “Yellow.” He whispers. “Please, yellow.”

“All right.” Zemo says kindly and gives his head a rub. “Rest”

“Thank you.” Bucky manages.

You stand not caring what Zemo says and kiss Bucky’s cheek.

“You okay?” You ask, your hand on his shoulder, lifting his chin to look at his face.

“Please… don’t, don’t touch me for a minute?” He asks and you give an embarrassed laugh understanding his request. You’re not exactly innocent in his torment.

“Of course I’m sorry I…” Your sentence is cut off.

Zemo has you by the back of your arms and pulls you tight against him. “You, not her.”

Bucky sighs dropping his head.

“I’m still confused. Is, this what you wanted?” He asks feigning ignorance though with you naked its clear what Zemo means.

Bucky won’t look.

“Answer me.”

“No, I mean— yes Baron.” He concedes.

You feel Zemo’s laugh along your neck. “You wouldn’t have been fast enough to finish before I found you. Well, maybe you, but not her. Tell me, how quickly can you make her come?”

“What?”

“How quickly?”

You shut your eyes as soon as you realize where this is going.

“I don’t know. I mean she always got there.” Bucky says sounding slightly self conscious.

Zemo smiles. “Two minutes. I can finish her off in just two.”

“Ha!” Bucky doesn’t believe him, who would.

Oh Bucky…

“Tell him it’s true.” Zemo leans towards you.

You nod glancing at them both. “He does this… thing.” You tell Bucky. “He works my spot and my clit at the same time and I come. Fast.” You say simply and totally helpless to it.

“It’s not always the most fun, rarely my first choice; but great when we’re in a hurry.” He shrugs and takes a knee before you even realize that he has. “Open your legs.” He says looking up at you.

Your eyes go wide, surprised to see him down and waiting with Bucky watching. Still, you part your thighs and wisely lay your hands on his shoulders knowing you won’t be able to stay upright without the support.

“This? Right James? This warm, tight, safe place? This is what you wanted?” Zemo asks, teasing Bucky with the way he slides his fingers between your velvet soft folds. You feel him turn his hand and his finger circles your entrance. He sighs and takes hold of your hip to keep you in place.

Two fingers slip inside and you hiss against the stretch, biting your lip as your head lolls to the side. You try to hold in the loudest of your noise but it’s hopeless.

The Baron starts to do his thing and you wonder if you might be able to deny him the pleasure of making you come in front of Bucky again, but just like always you end up gripping his shoulders to keep from falling as he does a perfect come hither with his two fingers as his thumb rubs with the perfect amount of pressure on your throbbing clitoris. He can’t resist and licks your peak for good measure until you hold your breath as he sucks sloppily and until you come on his hand and just as quickly as always. Your wild moaning is nearly feral but you could not care less. It makes you smile to hear him laugh softly so pleased with himself and you and your eyes shut as you pant, catching your breath.

Lowering your head, your eyes only half open, you both look over at Bucky who is glaring at the Baron.

“James.”

“Yes.”

“Stop breaking the rules.”

“Yes Baron.” He says giving in completely.

Zemo smiles and slowly pulls his fingers free from you, raising his hand just enough to show them so wet and sticky and glistening. He kisses your belly and looks up at you. “Go lie down.” He says rubbing your stomach, smoothing his hand over your soft tuft of hair. You’re still floating as you do, happy to go and rest and leave them to it.

“Would you like to come now?” You hear Zemo ask Bucky as he gets up and goes around the chair.

“Please.” Bucky whispers watching you sink down onto the bed on your side.

“I can finish you off just as quickly as I did her.”

“Yes. Please.” He begs through clenched teeth rising up again as if presenting himself to be relieved, the steady rush of blood to his lower half turning his cock a darker shade of desperate as it rises up like a tower ready to fall. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you.” He pants “I’m sorry I tried to fuck her. I’m sorry for breaking your rules. And I will do anything, please just… fuck. Please!”

Helmut leans down hushing him, pressing his face close to Bucky’s, grabbing him around the chest as his left hand comes reaching over his stomach promising an end to the day’s long torment.

He grips the soldiers gorgeous, endlessly taunted dick; your natural lubricant replacing the oil to help glide his fingers along.

When Zemo starts to work Bucky you can see through the look on his face that this is all he’s wanted to do for so long and you are reminded that this is as much the Baron’s discipline as it is yours— as it is Bucky’s.

Bucky makes a deep sound that gets your attention. His body flexes and you think he looks like a bomb ready to blow. A sexy, finely muscled, lightly tanned bomb with a look of pained excitement as his legs open and his jaw flexes.

“Are you mine James?” Zemo asks, his lips brushing his ear,

“Yes” He says pitifully raising his hips, thrusting once into the Baron’s hand just as Zemo lets go. A deep frown fixes between Bucky’s brows as he waits until Zemo grabs again and starts to perfectly stroke him.

Bucky’s mouth opens, his eyes fix on the incredibly hypnotic rhythm of Zemo’s hand.

“You’ve always been mine haven’t you?”

“Yes!” Bucky nearly shouts, his brows turned down with the exquisite anguish of the nearing release.

“Say it again,” Zemo demands, his right arm tight around Bucky, his eyes shut relishing in the control and the love, you listen to the wet rhythm as it gets faster.

“Yes.”

“Say it!”

“I’ve always been yours” Bucky moans loudly and glances over at you unable to keep your hand away from your pussy selfishly wanting to come again.

“Once more.” Helmut says opening his eyes. The muscle of his arm is flexed beautifully as he pounds.

Bucky moans so similarly to you that Helmut just smiles. He knows, he understands the hold he has over you both.

“I’m yours” Bucky manages and the Baron focuses his movement as if pulling the orgasm from Bucky’s body willing it to come forward. He jerks his hand up and away…but this time he’s finished the job.

He holds Bucky as the man cries out, his hips rising high this time, his cock pulsing with a tight up and down as he finally —god, finally— gives a high pitched groan with that first explosive release of come that shoots past his stomach and onto his own chest followed by equally satisfying spasms that send milky droplets flying free into the air and across his stomach onto Zemo’s arms; Bucky’s groaning and gasping near tears with the absolute exhaustion and relief of his well deserved climax, his moans and gasps of surprise so raw and unaffected.

By the time he lowers back down to the chair unable to do much more than sit there, limp and panting with his eyes closed, Helmut is holding him, caring nothing for the mess. He seems to love the sight of the pearlescent results of Bucky’s incredible orgasm as much as you do.

Smiling as he strokes Bucky’s hair, kissing his temple, he says with a tone only Helmut Zemo could manage at a moment like this, “You see. When you listen to me, I make it worth every second, every moment of torment. Yes?”

Bucky nods but it’s weak.

Zemo chuckles softly, kisses him again and reaches down easily undoing the ropes.

“Look at you both.” He says trying to sound angry, as if it’s not all his fault. “You can’t come to dinner like this. I’ll run a bath.”

He leaves Bucky and comes to the bed bending over you, his hand so sticky from the combination is heavy on your belly as he kisses your lips. “Hows your ass?” He asks.

“Still on fire.” You say and he winks as he rises.

“Good."

*

“You’re pretty quiet over there.” Bucky says splashing you from across the large tub. You’ve both been in for a while now after Zemo took a quick shower and left you alone letting you know he’d be up waiting at the dinner table.

Roused from your daydream but still not sure you want to talk about why you’re so quiet, you glance over and shrug.

“Whats wrong? You’re not mad about what happened are you?” Bucky asks sliding a little closer. The tub is surprisingly big in an already large bathroom and yet again you wonder how you’ll return to real life when this all ends.

“What happened?” You ask him.

“Getting you in trouble? He really put a shine on your backside.” Bucky says, a smile breaking through any attempt at being serious.

You sit up surprised to hear that’s what he thinks it could be. “Ha! No. Not at all. That was amazing… god” You tip your head back, the image of Bucky, naked and tired to a chair with Zemo holding him and whispering in his ear will be seared into your mind for life. “I didn’t know you could come that much.” You say, slowly looking back down at him,trying not to giggle.

“Neither did I.” He says practically blushing before he grins. “Same goes for you.” He tosses right back.

You laugh and roll your eyes. “Okay well we both know he’s capable of turning us into sex crazed idiots apparently.” You say with a cheeky grin and Bucky laughs shaking his head with a sigh.

“What is it? Some Sokovian spell or something, magic from the old world?” Bucky says with a thick accent wiggling his wet soapy fingers in the air.

Laughing you scrunch your nose. “Nah, that’s all him. Just wait until you’ve been around him long enough to get to the good stuff.”

“The good stuff!” He looks shocked “Well what the hell is all this!”

“This is amazing, but it not… well it’s not him. Theres so much more than sex. Watching tv. Eating dinner in bed. Naps— once he read to me.” You say with a sigh and the room goes silent as you both slip into a day dream laced with Helmuts beautiful voice surrounding you as he reads the classics on a warm summer night…

“You think he sits around daydreaming about us like this?” Bucky asks with a frown. “I worry sometimes.”

“Really?” You ask looking into his big blue eyes. Hundred years old and still so sweet. “Of course he does. Bucky, he wouldn’t have done any of this if he didn’t spend as much time thinking of us as we do him. Don’t be so naive”

He nods looking out the window and you know he’s just out of practice. He probably had a swarm of girls around him back when his life was normal. Maybe even a secret guy. But how long ago had that been. And since he’d been released from the words, his only real time spent with anyone has been with the two of you. For a moment you wonder if that’s fair. He should go out on dates or something, but then again you did try to get him on some apps. He hated them all. Women swiped right like it was their job of course, but he thought it was strange and wanted to meet them the old fashioned way but when he did he could only focus on what he didn’t like and just compared them to you— and Zemo.

“Hey.” You get his attention again. “I mean it, I’m really not upset about anything that happened earlier. Thanks for being such a rule breaker.” You say with a wink.

“No problem” He laughs as if that was his intention. Bucky’s expression softens as he sits back, the water rocking under the bubbles.

Bubbles. Talk about a diva, is anyone is on this big ass boat it’s him. Two adults having a bath drawn from them; why not throw in the bubbles. You roll your eyes ignoring the way your chest gets tight with the feel of being so adored and loving every second of his over the top ways and focus on Bucky who looks stunning in the bath— your heart sinking just a little.

“So what is it?” He asks unaware of your many distractions.

You look back to the window staring up at the sky for a while. “I’m just… sad.” You say giving in to the truth “I mean, I’m thrilled being here. But I’ve had this idea that I could talk you into staying with us. I keep imagining this life with you and Helmut and I know it can’t happen for so many reasons but I’m stubborn and spoiled. I truly hate not getting my way. So I keep thinking, maybe.”

He goes quiet now understanding, and then you feel his hand on your knee under the water. “I know. I’ve thought about it too. Maybe a little too much. Definitely enough that I’ve almost convinced myself it could work, but no. It just wouldn’t.”

You press your lips hesitant to say in case you might offend him but decide to just go for it. “And you’re sure it’s not just that you miss it? Saving the world and everything? I mean, I can see how it would be appealing— from controlled killer to stoic hero.” You tease gently, wiggling your brows up and down until he laughs a little, probably more annoyed than you’d like, and whatever facade you’d put on crumbles. The look of heartbreak turns your brows down, twisting your face with the agony of losing him. He looks surprised to see you so broken about it and finds your hand through the water.

“Hey hey hey.” He pulls but you’re not in the mood to be comforted. Bucky hates when you don’t let him coddle you, but he knows better than to fight it so he simply answers your question. “Yes.Well. No I mean, it’s nice. But honestly, if you really want to know, I could get used to being domesticated.” He shrugs letting go of your hand as he looks towards the shower where Zemo was and you swallow the tears that have been overpowered by your intrigue.

Managing a laugh at his expense you poke his arm on the rim of the tub. “Really? By me or Helmut?” You ask and swear you see him blush.

“You’ve already proven you can turn me into a homebody, and happy to be there, so —Maybe both?” He shrugs and there is such a tone of possibility in his statement that you’re instantly transported into a world in which the three of you are living happily. Maybe in this Mediterranean paradise, you’ve just come home from the market with ingredients for a dinner that Bucky has asked you to pick up and you help him cook while music blasts in your small but bright kitchen and you dance around until the house smells delicious and you set the table, flirting and toying with one another until everything looks beautiful before rushing to sit just as your Baron comes through the door…

Even here and now sitting in the tub with you, Bucky looks like the sweetest house husband glowing a soft gold in the light of the sun. What you wouldn’t give to be his forever. His his and hers, you think and your chin quivers with the threat of happy miserable tears.

Bucky isn’t oblivious to your hurting but he’s trying to keep strong, he can’t give in to you, not this time. “We’ll never know if I stick around.” He says and your little vision fades “I think I’ve got one visit, maybe two in me before someone notices an avenger hanging around their town and his cover is blown. You don’t want that. I don’t want that. I’d never forgive myself."

“I know.” You say and only realize that your head is down when his hand, which is covered in white bubbles reaches to lift your chin.

“Hey, come one. None of that. We’ve only got a little bit of time. I just want to make the most of it. Give me enough good memories to finally forget about whats left of the bad.”

You smile and nod, blowing the bubbles away before they go up your nose. “Fine.” You sigh and look back out the window hugging your knees. “Buck, can I ask you something?”

“Of course.” He says only cringing a little when you call him Buck.

“Do you think you might ever love him?”

Bucky freezes. He looks— odd. Uncomfortable. Exposed? You realize very quickly that he already does, even if he’s not aware of it and decide not to push him

“It’s okay. I was just curious.” You say and try to calm him with your smile “We come from very different worlds. Letting myself love a man like Helmut Zemo took little to no effort for me, for you— I know why it might come as a shock. But I think you’ll find, when you do admit it to yourself and to him, he might just surprise you with how quickly he says it back.”

[maerrybom]

Character Profiles

it’s about time I make an information sheet about my ocs,, here we go! (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀)

Maye’s Profile:

Class: Gunslinger

Likes: Being alone Dislikes: Being in a crowd

Zodiac sign: Unknown Blood type: AB+ Height: 5′7

Hobbies: Reading - Figure skating - Playing instruments - Basketball

Other: Orphan from Black Swan Orphanage - Has memory loss

Personality traits - Justice: Introverted - Conqueror - Intelligent

Extra Skill:

Destruction: Destroys both inorganic and organic matter into pieces with touch - Unstable

Copycat [not registered]: Unknown

What’s her opinion on:

Johann: “He’s confusing. At one point he’s strict and tells me to run around campus 50 times, but then he would be strangely kind.”

Luminous: “Clingy. I don’t understand why he’s desperate to be my friend.”

Finger: “A bit obnoxious, but I can somewhat tolerate him better than Luminous.”

Erii: “She’s...cute, but dumb.”

Chisei: “A spineless coward.”

Sol’s Profile:

Class: Soul Dancer

Likes: Jewelry - Food Dislikes: Seeing her friends upset or in danger 

Zodiac sign: Gemini Blood type: O- Height: 5′10

Hobbies: Cooking & Baking - Reading - Ballet - Astronomy

Other: Orphan from Black Swan Orphanage - Partial memory loss

Personality traits - Justice: Shy - Vibrant - Reckless

Extra Skill:

Heaven’s Gate: Unknown - Unstable

What’s her opinion on:

Caesar: “...I don’t like how he makes me feel sometimes, but I want him to be happy.”

Johann: “He gives me lots of books to read, but I feel like he also wants me to write a book report each time I finish one.”

Nono: “I admire and respect her a lot! She treats me well.”

Luminous: “He’s quite silly, but I admire him.”

Finger: “He can steal my money as much as he wants, and yet I’d still forgive him because he’s my friend!”

Thaila’s Profile:

Class: Blade Master

Likes: Luminous Dislikes: Luminous

Zodiac sign: Aries Blood type: B+ Height: 5′6

Hobbies: Martial Arts - Knife throwing - Painting - Chess

Other: Orphan from Saint Bruno Orphanage

Personality traits - Chaos: Conqueror - Hot-headed - Awkward

Extra Skill:

Blood Phoenix: Can use her own blood or someone else’s to set both organic and inorganic matter on fire - Unstable

What’s her opinion on:

Luminous: “If I hear him cry about something useless one more time, I’m not going to hold back from punching him in the face. But, I guess he’s tolerable.”

Johann: “He’s better than Caesar.”

Nono: “She’s better than Caesar.”

Finger: “He tried to steal my money once and it didn’t end well.”

Erii: “She’s a brat but I would’ve done the same if I were in her shoes.”

Elena’s Profile:

Class: Fighter Mecha: Chip

Likes: Unknown Dislikes: Sweets - Being woken up forcibly from a nap 

Zodiac sign: Scorpio Blood type: AB- Height: 5′4

Hobbies: Programming - Yoga - Lock-picking - Martial Arts

Other: Orphan from Kennedy Orphanage

Personality traits - Neutral: Conqueror - Cutie - Spirited

Extra Skill:

Unknown

What’s her opinion on?:

Chisei: “Hmm...I guess he’s cute.”

Finger: “He’s my buddy! We scam people out of their money together—Ahem.”

Luminous: “I bully him sometimes because it’s funny.”

Nono: “She’s scary...but she’s the best!”

Johann: “...No comment.”

[pastellepink-muses]

Something about candy made the former King want to recoil in dissatisfaction, yet something else about it made him keep coming back to it. He'd eat it until he was a mess, gorging himself on things he claimed to hate but craved so dearly. Every time he made the decision to stop, but nothing ever came of it. A huge mess, he was. From the past to the present, from his character to his looks. A mess.

Is this what life will be like from now on? He surely hoped not, though, with a reputation such as his, it just may have to be for the safety of himself and others.

If anyone caught wind that he was still alive, they'd surely come after him. Best to keep a low profile, despite it being boring and sometimes stressful being alone. Why did he crave companionship? A virus like him didn't need companionship, nor did he really deserve it after all that he'd done.

The feeling of sadness he had was palpable,  from the way he acted to the way he looked. But then again, he tried, even in solitude, to keep a straight face.

He would be fine. He didn't need any of this.

The more he tried to deny it, the more it would glare at him in the face. He had to face it at some point; he was alone, and being alone wasn't fun. But everything that led to him being here was his own fault.

That thought made him feel angry, mostly at himself.

A mixture of emotions stewed within the beast as he lay there in his burrow, thinking about nearly everything. His own ego had done him in and now he was paying for it. He'd lost just about everything. That made him feel an upsetting mixture of both sad and angry. The more it lingered in his mind, the closer to the surface the anger got.

He really was the worst racer ever, huh? The guy who got his original game unplugged and took over another for his own selfish desires. There wasn't any coming back from that, now was there?

Suddenly he missed Turbo Time, and suddenly he missed his brothers. They had both perished in the unplugging of their game, or at least, that's what he assumed. He wasn't there to see it for himself, so he really didn't know.

The face of King Candy glitched out a bit before it came to settle on Turbo's instead. The racer looked.. sad? remorseful maybe? A clawed hand was brought up to his face as his eyes started producing tears.

What in the hell had he done?

He'd ruined his life, and theirs.

The possibility that they were still alive was still viable, though, any traces of it were erased by the incredibly negative mindset Turbo found himself in. But despite that happening, he still couldn't keep his mind from wandering to the idea that they were still around somewhere.

What if they saw him like this? would they be afraid? would they be angry at him? he knew that they would, and their feelings would be entirely justified. A part of him wished that they would learn to forgive him, but he knew that was a stretch. They had no reason to forgive him, and rather, had every reason to despise him.

It wasn't as if he could go searching for them either, that would be far too risky. Sure, he was a great manipulator of code, but his form was.. well, rather monstrous at the present. He wondered though.. could he conceal this look of his?

His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden bout of glitching, the two faces of King Candy and Turbo flashing in between in a rapid, unstable display. It was almost as if his own body was telling him that was a bad idea.

Throughout all of this he'd been steadily weeping, though, quietly. Tears poured from tired eyes, coming to an eventual stop, at which point he decided to cut short his thoughts in favor of some much needed rest. Maybe he'd feel better after a nap, he doubted it, but it was worth a try.

His dreams were mute, nonexistent. Save for the sound of glitching, decomposing code in the background. Turbo found himself in the dark, or rather, that's what it looked like. The sound of it was deafening, but that was short lived, as the sights of a decomposing Turbo Time was laid out before him. Everything was breaking, failing, and it was loud and terrifying.

He heard pained screams cut off, garbled by the code breaking apart. He too tried to scream, the process of coming apart being incredibly painful. His entire being was breaking apart. His screaming was garbled, and he could no longer breathe.

Turbo awoke feeling suffocated, gasping and filling his lungs with the musty air. None of it was real.

The relief he felt was overwhelming, yet, the images of the dream were still fresh in his mind.

He knew those voices, he knew who they originated from and it made him feel ill.

What kind of life was this? what purpose was there to continue living if he'd be eaten alive by guilt? Nothing was going to improve, nobody was going to want to see him, there was nothing.

It broke him.

Years of holding back emotion, all for naught, as a cascade of the rawest of them came bursting from their prisons.

He'd be lucky if nobody heard this, but really at this point, he didn't care.

[blasian-kpop]

Bio Technical Servitude (2)

After a drunken accident, you end up with a humanoid robot. Will he do more harm than help? Is he more than what is programmed?

Chapter 2: Working it out

Word Count: 1,456

Genre: Humor

Warnings: Some cussing, but nothing too harsh

A/N: OK, so for anyone who was wondering, i accidentally deleted this story the first time i did it. but luckily i still had it saved in my word document and was able to recover it. SOOOOOOOOOOOO please give this series a lot of love and i will be done with chapter 3 soon enough. i still don't know is this character should be a (Y/N) or an OC character to PLEASE let me know what you yall want. it would be very helpful. Alrighty then! Enjoy.

__________________________________________________________

“How the hell do I make a profile?” I turned to Jin but of course, how was he supposed to know. That's when I heard the robot speak again.

“please download the control application corresponding to my company, ‘BTS’ is available in the Apple store and Play Store” his eyes still glow in a baby blue tint in the room as he repeats his statement over and over and over in a continuous loop like an alarm clock early in the morning. And just like said alarm clock, it became annoying as hell. “OKAY! I GOt it… damn”. He stopped. I picked up my phone from the countertop and opened the app store while Jin so caringly laughed at my frustration.

“It is available for iPhones and androids.” Jin leans over to tell me as if I didn’t just hear it before.

“do you wanna get kicked in the throat Jin?” I threated, Jin steps back with a teasing grin.

Once I downloaded the app and opened it, I was presented with a notification that is was syncing with the nearest server. That"s when the baby blue light in the eyes of the robot morphed into an intense grassy green colour. Jin and I stood amazed, if not shocked, as this experience continued to prove itself more and more- real?

But of course, I am still sceptical of the actual authenticity of this.

Back at my phone, I see the option to ‘Log in’ or ‘Sign up’.

I ‘Sign up’.

The next thing was a page of questions and statements and blank spaces beyond what I wanted to fill in, 15 may 20 question that just continue endlessly down my phone screen. “oh hell no, they are doing too much at this point” I complain and slug over to cough to sit. Jin following me, carefully passing the robot, but it stays unmoved, standing with a stable posture that was nothing but mannequin-like.

“name, address, weight? Height? Why do they need all this information? Creepy” Jin judged, but before I could inject my own opinion, the robot talked. “any or all question may be omitted. For the best results, please fill in the blank” with its back still facing us, I almost thought it was Jin, but the overly proper diction gave it entirely away.

“well looks like some of these will be left alone cause, I don’t see why this thing needs to know where I live, or my blood type or-“ you gasped a little at the next blank “why the hell do they need to know my menstrual cycle?! Creepy little shits!” I explode at the absurdity of this robot.

"For the best results, please fill in the blank"

"Okay!!" I shout, and it stops talking.

While I start the process of filling in this drawn-out sign up questionary-type thing. Jin goes to inspect the robot some more.

“you know I really think this is a real deal humanoid, this looks amazing” jin starts to touch and mess around with it. “oh yeah? then how about you fill out this form and take the thing with you?” you suggested sarcastically to jin, who in reply laughed “haha I’m actually good, you have fun with that” and continued to examine the robot.

I skipped most of the question by now that I deemed unnecessary and once I hit submit that's where the real ‘fun’ started. Out of what felt like nowhere, the robot made a complete 180 degree turn to face towards me. It was such a shard turn that I would be started, but his hard shoulder slapped Jin in the face in the process. I just laugh my freaking ass off watching jin hype himself up to start one of his whining fits “WHO T-THE HELL DO YO-” “emotional levels; stable. Emotion detected; amused” the robot interrupted as his eyes fade from the previous green to a now natural dark brown. They looked so real it was almost unsettling.

“What did it just say?’ the question was directed to jin, but of course, I got a response out of the Robot first “personal report, to heard it again say ‘PR repeat’, for a brief examination say ‘PR examine.’’

Speechless.

this whole situation is escalating to the point of just more questions. “personal report will be automatically updated bi-hourly, drastic changes will be saved in my database and action will be taken to bring you back to emotional and physical homeostasis.”

Again. Speechless.

I really wanted any reason to debunk this crazy machinery, but I spent my whole bank account on it, and it was starting to get hard to reject this. Even if it were real, it would make a great conversational piece. JIn nudges me and urges that I test it out “do something?” his whispers. “u-um..... PR examine, I guess.” Immediately this robot walks towards me maintaining creepy eye contact, all while I'm backing the fuck up. This thing better not blow up.

“Emotional levels; unstable, emotion detected; scared, confused, on offence. physical levels; unstable, physical defects; 67% hunger, 82% stress, 78% fatigue. Diagnostic; meal high in carbs and vegetables, a warm noncaffeinated drink, and a 6-hour rest in 67-degree temperature. Would you like me to start stabilising your health now?”

This is so ridiculous. “how did he get all of this information from just looking at me?” I directed to jin, but you already know what happened. “I am built with this ability to read your hormone levels and asses your condition accordingly, you can program me to auto-fix unstable conditions on the ‘BTS’ application.”

Jin starts laughing and holding on to my shoulder, shaking me a bit. “This is fucking great! Oh, my goodness. I can't believe your drunk behind actually bought an android! hahahahahahahaaaaaa” I shake my head at this abomination of a situation.

“I think I need a nap or something...”

“if you desire to nap, you will need 40 minutes to feel energised, but according to the time I recommend 6 hours of sleep in 67-degree temperature. Would you like me to start stabilising your health now?” The android dictated but at this point, it was starting to sound like an annoying notification for a weirdly intrusive app.

“NO. I would like you to just shut up for the remainder of the night, you creepy little pain in my fucking neck!” I didn't intend for my word to come out like sandpaper on an asshole, but with the monotone voice and jin taking his little passive jabs at me, I just walked away for the cage and let my demon run free for a bit.

“enabling silent mode.”

I sigh and slouch back into the couch and run my head. “yeah, this is enough excitement for the night I'm going to bed.” I stand up and look at jin “oh and thanks for helping me with....” I gesture to the robot who (while still silent) follows my movement. “...thing.”

Jin chuckles and rubs my back “ trust me. I was more than happy to be apart of this experience with you.” he walks over to the kitchen table to collect his things. “I’ll come back and check on you tommo- actually you want me to just come in the more so we can use the carpool lane?

“Please?” I plead to jin, and he points in the conformation of the plan then takes his leave closing the door behind him. As I start to walk over to lock the door, the robot follows me almost immediately. I stop and look at it as it stops right behind me. Continuing to the door, I can feel his heavy feet stamping the ground.

“ um..... stay,” the robot says nothing and just looks at me with a still face. I assume it understood to stay at the door, but once I started walking, it moved.

“no, don't more. Stay at the door” then oddly enough its lips start moving, but no sound is coming out. Then I remembered the silent mode. “oh. silent more off.”

“disabling silent more...... while I am programmed to protect your physical and mental health I am not programmed with house security, if you would like to protect your home, I recommend ordering BTS android model Jungkook.”

“no nononoonon I am NOT buying another one of you.” I shack my head walking away while it follows me. ‘and I don't need home security, I just don't want you to following me around my house so stay in the living more, place and thank you” it stopped walking as soon as I left into the hallway and out of the living room.... it stayed.

I went into my room and collapsed on the bed. Wished that this was a dream. And passed out.

_____________________________________________________________

if you want to view the whole series. go to the tag sc:bts.

[daydreaming-away-reality]

Aid

Tadashi Hamada x Reader | ☁️ +  🌠 | 3k | Hybrid!Reader | Hybrid AU

The bold red letters stamped on the top of folder made Tadashi hesitant to open it up to find out the contents.

CLASSIFIED

With his extensive research abilities and interests in health, the male had managed to find an internship at a company that focused on medicare along with accommodate his on going studies at San Fransokyo Institute of Technology. The company had been particularly impressed with Tadashi’s abilities to think outside the box, hence recruiting him for this particular project.

Tadashi remembered the director of the company specifically handing him this folder.

“This project might be unexpected for an intern like you, but I think you have the right personality and traits to aid the researchers,” the director had told him. “I hope that you’ll consider becoming part of the team in charge.”

The director’s words were a vague, but they did pique interest in Tadashi in this classified project.

What might the project consist of if it was unexpected and required the help of someone like him?

Taking a deep breath, the black haired guy opened up the folder.

The content on the paper surprised him. A picture of a pretty looking girl with (H/C) hair and (E/C) eyes stared up at him as various details along with her medical record were listed about the girl was beside it. What jumped out the most to Tadashi was her species.

Species: unknown hybrid

While there were hybrids in society, they weren’t too common and often kept as companions similar to pets. Like pets, the more exotic the breed, the more expensive the hybrid was.

Tadashi didn’t support the system. Hybrids were human too, they didn’t need a hierarchy to determine their place in the world.

Skimming through the folder’s content, Tadashi soon realized the project’s purpose: to help and discover the issue that this girl was struggling through. The team in charge had yet to find out the problem that was affecting the girl’s health.

“Hey Tadashi! Dinner’s ready!”

The voice of his aunt’s broke through his silence. Eyes flickering to the time, Tadashi realized more time had passed by than he had expected.

“Alright, Aunt Cass! I’ll be right down.”

As he was closing the folder, the last thing that caught his eye was the name of the patient.

(Y/N) (L/N).

“I’m glad you decided to join our team,” Dr. Joyce said as she finished up with the tour with Tadashi. “The director was rather keen on having you apart of our project, which is a rather case, but I can see why. You’re rather attentive to details.”

“Ah, thank you,” Tadashi replied. “What’s my role?”

Dr. Joyce glanced down at her tablet. “I know you’re not too familiar with hybrid genecology, so its up to you if you want to help with monitoring vitals and analyzing patterns of her condition. Or if you prefer, you’re welcome to interact with our patient, she’s a energetic one when she’s awake and feeling well. Or you can give both a try. No matter what you choose to be apart of, our team is open to your help and contributions.”

Tadashi nodded, taking in the team lead’s words. The team was small, but everyone appeared to be rather friendly. Tadashi was sure he would be able to work within this environment.

“Your ID will grant you access to (Y/N)’s room,” Dr. Joyce added, nodding towards the secured room. “We do advise you to try not to get to attached to her though.”

“Why is that?” the brown eyed guy asked, brows furrowing.

Dr. Joyce offered him a bitter smile. “We believe that her days are limited. Unless we’re able to discover and cure her soon, its only a matter of time before our project is over.”

Tadashi slowly nodded. Life was rough, some people had it harder.

With a call from someone else on the team, Dr. Joyce dismissed Tadashi from the tour and told him to do as he pleased to settle in.

Brown eyes flickering over to the secured room, Tadashi decided that would be the first place he would stop by. 

Peeking in through the window, he noticed the lone figure asleep in the bed. If she was asleep, then he should probably leave her be for now...

It was only his second day of being part of the new project, but Tadashi found himself running late. Trying his best not to spill his coffee, he walked as fast as he could to lab.

“Oh, Tadashi, is that you?”

The tall boy turned to see his coworkers, Matt and Rose.

“Yeah, hey,” Tadashi greeted.

“Running late, I see,” Matt playfully chided. When he noticed Tadashi looking like he was about to apologized, he chuckled. “Don’t worry about it! It can’t be helped sometimes, Dr. Joyce doesn’t mind unless something important is happening.”

Tadashi let out a sigh of relief, nodding as he took in those words.

“Do you think you could check up on (Y/N) today?” Rose asked. “It’s nothing medical, just introduce yourself and see how’s sees doing.”

“I’ll do my best,” he replied.

Dropping his stuff off at his desk, Tadashi made his way over to the ID scanner. Taking a deep breath, he reassured himself everything was going to be okay, then swiped his ID. 

When the doors unlocked, he slipped inside to see the girl staring at small potted plant in the room. She didn’t seem to notice his presence at all.

“(Y/N)?”

His voice broke the silence and surprised her. Her immediate response was a flinch as she turned to look at him with narrowed eyes, lip drawn back into a snarl.

What surprised Tadashi wasn’t her reaction.

Rather, it was her eyes.

Instead of the calm (E/C) eyes that her profile showed, her eyes were currently a different colour completely.

Icy blue eyes.

The glare quickly disappeared when (Y/N) assessed that this newcomer wasn’t going to be a threat to her. With a blink, her eyes returned to their normal (E/C) hues and she offered a meek smile.

“Oh, sorry,” she apologized. “You surprised me.”

Tadashi shook his head calmly as he offered her a smile in return.

“No, no, I should be sorry for spooking you,” he said as he sat down next to her bed. “Nice to meet you, by the way! I’m Tadashi.”

“I like your name, Tadashi,” she replied. The way his name sounded brought a smile to her face. “I guess you already know my name.”

Shuffling out of her bed, (Y/N) moved so she was sitting perpendicular to the boy, hoping this would make things less formal.

“Are you part of the team in charge of curing me?”

Her straightforward question made Tadashi realize just how aware of the project the girl was. If that was the case... she must also know that her life was depending on them.

“Yeah,” he agreed.

(Y/N) hummed thoughtfully. “What do you specialize in, Tadashi? Are you a doctor or scientist like everyone else?”

The black haired male shook his head.

“Ah, no. I’m actually a student at San Fransokyo Institute of Technology, I study robotics.”

Blinking in surprise, the girl looked at him eagerly. “So you make robots?”

"I guess you can say that,” Tadashi said with a laugh. “At least when I’m not busy helping out at my aunt’s café.”

“That’s so cool!”

“Thanks. I’m sure you’re pretty cool too.”

The (H/C) haired girl shook her head. “Not really. To be honest, I’m not sure what I am.”

With the encouraging nod from Tadashi, the boy soon heard her backstory. Growing up in various labs, she had been some sort of experimental project that constantly had security. Due to the unknown issues that kept arise, she was always stuck within buildings with grey walls and scientists jabbing her with needles. It hurt Tadashi to know she had never seen the light of day outside.

(Y/N) apparently had been abandoned in a lab. Discovering her unstable state, she was brought here, with the hopes of helping her.

“I want to go on a walk one day,” she confessed. “Outside to see the trees and birds.”

“I hope that day will come soon,” Tadashi softly replied. “Maybe I could join you on that walk.”

Her (E/C) eyes brightened at his proposition. 

“I’d like that, Tadashi.”

Enjoying her company, Tadashi often found himself visiting (Y/N) whenever he could. Whether it be to give her some new medication to try out or simply talk, he would make some time to see her at least once every shift.

It wasn’t long before Tadashi realized that he wasn’t the only one that adored the girl. Most of his coworkers were fond of her as well.

When she was feeling well enough, (Y/N) tended to wander around the lab freely. From offering to get some water or snacks for everyone to simply curling up next to them to nap, her easygoing nature was hard not to like.

While Dr. Joyce had advised him that he should “try not to get to attached to her”, it was rather hard. It seemed like everyone else struggled to do the same.

Perhaps they had given up trying and had fallen for her charm like he did.

“Have you guys discovered what kind of hybrid (Y/N) is?” Tadashi asked.

Rose looked up from her files, shaking her head. “So far, we haven’t been able to identify her exact species. Her DNA samples don’t match anything we currently have.”

“Which means she’s exotic,” Matt added, leaning over to join the conversation. “The people who created her were working in an illegal lab after all. I guess they wanted to try something different.”

“Do you have any ideas, Tadashi?” Rose asked.

The brown eyed boy shrugged. “She does kind of remind me of a cat hybrid, by the way she interacts with everyone and the amount of naps she takes.” A memory popped his mind. “(Y/N)’s eyes, they... were an icy blue when I first met her. I think it was because I scared her.”

Matt looked surprised. “Really? She growled at me when we first met, but that was it.”

“Interesting,” Rose commented. “We’ll see what we can gather together on this and show it to Dr. Joyce. Nice catch, Tadashi.”

The boy smiled, glad to have contributed. 

“Does anyone want some coffee?”

He turned, noticing (Y/N) as she held a tray with several mugs of coffee to some of the other coworkers. The smile that she brought to everyone’s face made Tadashi grip onto his hope of helping her even harder.

If anyone deserved all this aid, it would be (Y/N).

A few weeks had gone by and Tadashi had been able to grow closer to the girl. Most of the time, he’d barely notice why the girl needed special treatment, but it wasn’t before long that he got to experience both the good and bad of (Y/N)’s health. 

Last week alone, he had seen her happily peeking out of the windows to becoming bedridden with a fever. The fever had come so suddenly when Tadashi was checking her vitals that the boy panicked. One of his other coworkers, Dr. Isaac, had to reassure Tadashi things would be fine after tending to (Y/N).

Since then, Tadashi soon found himself dedicating every spare moment he had outside of his classes and homework to trying to figure out (Y/N).

While the team had been able to discover that (Y/N) was a member of the big cat family, they still had yet to pinpoint the direct species. Matt had been trying everything lately, but he claimed that the fusing of different DNAs had made (Y/N)’s and whatever hybrid she was mixed with harder to identify.

One thing was for sure - the issue was linked to (Y/N)’s DNA.

With the new DNA being infused with her own, there was a discrepancy that made her cells unstable. There might have been a time in her life when things were at balance, but it appeared that she was rejecting the different DNA now, hence her failing health.

“I think I finally found out her hybrid DNA!” Matt called out.

This statement made everyone within earshot react.

“What is it?” Dr. Joyce asked, walking over to look at Matt’s work. Her eyes skimmed over his files inquiringly. “Snow leopard?”

Matt quickly started up his explanation and findings to Dr. Joyce. 

Knowing he’ll hear more about it later, Tadashi slipped off to visit the girl.

“Tadashi,” she greeted the moment she saw him. “Have you been avoiding me?”

“Why would you say that?”

“You don’t visit me that much anymore,” (Y/N) said with a pout.

The boy chuckled. Moving to sit by her side, he gently stroked her hair.

“Sorry if it feels like that. I been busy trying to find ways to help you like everyone else. We’re all worried you, that all. I’d hate to hear any bad news about you.”

There was a soft rumbling sound that filled the air, and at first, Tadashi couldn’t pinpoint the noise. When it grew a little louder, he realized he recognized the familiar sound.

Purring.

(Y/N) was purring.

In awe at how comfortable she was with him, Tadashi felt his heart flutter. Once the team was able to develop a cure, it wouldn’t be long until (Y/N) would be able to live with precious moments like these everyday.

The moment Tadashi stepped into the lab a few days later, the place was chaotic. Fearing for the worst, the tall boy stopped Matt the moment he caught sight of him.

“What’s going on?”

Matt let out his breath. “(Y/N) collapsed earlier. Dr. Joyce diagnosed her yesterday night, and she believes there isn’t much time left before (Y/N)’s cells give up on her.”

The news shocked Tadashi to the core.

“How much time left?”

“Two to three weeks.”

Matt pat the devastated looking boy’s shoulder before hurrying back off to work.

Moving towards your room, Tadashi found Dr. Joyce standing by window that showed your room. When she noticed Tadashi, she offered him a bitter smile.

“You grew attached to her, didn’t you, Tadashi?” she asked. When she saw his expression, she merely nodded. “It’s fine. I know how easily it is to get attached to (Y/N), most hybrid have that affect after you spend some time with them. I was hoping to spare you any pain if anything happened to (Y/N), but as you can see...”

The doctor let out a sigh when she looked at you. Dr. Isaac was inside keeping an eye on the girl. 

“There’s still time, right?” Tadashi spoke up.

Dr. Joyce nodded. “I’ve looked over your reports for treatment methods and I believe its worth a try. Don’t give up hope yet, Tadashi. (Y/N) is fighting to survive, so we have to do what we can along the way.”

The black haired boy nodded. He had done everything he could on his part.

Now to hope for a miracle.

“Hey Rose?”

“What’s up, Tadashi?”

“What would happen to (Y/N) if she were to recover?”

“Well, we’d monitor her for a while longer before we start looking for an ideal candidate to adopt her.” 

“I see. Thanks for letting me know.”

Three weeks had gone by in a flash. Tadashi had found himself swamped with work - paperwork, assignment deadlines and reports. Despite it all, he kept an eye on the status of (Y/N). Without him noticing, the time flew by quickly. As everything drawing to an end, he felt like he could finally breathe.

Slowly walking to the elevator, he made sure his companion was able to keep up.

“You okay?” he asked, brown eyes making contact with (E/C) ones.

“Never been better!” (Y/N) exclaimed. “All thanks to you, Tadashi, and everyone else at the lab, I’m feeling great.”

Tadashi ruffled her (H/C) hair. The treatment, after slight alteration, had cured (Y/N). No longer bothered by health and medical issues, she was back to bounding around the lab.

Deciding that it was the perfect opportunity to surprise her, Tadashi offered to take the girl outside. 

“Where are we going?” she asked, clinging onto Tadashi’s arm as they were descending.

“Out for a walk,” he replied. “So you can see the trees and birds with me.”

Eyes sparkling, (Y/N) excitedly cheered. Tadashi couldn’t wipe away the contagious smile that stuck to his face when he saw her smile. His smile only grew when he saw the awe in her face when she saw the life outside the lab walls.

Grasping onto Tadashi’s hand, (Y/N) made sure not to let go when she followed him around. Besides the park they were walking through, she absolutely adored Tadashi. She knew how hard he had worked like everyone else at the lab to keep her alive. The way he cared for her always made her heart flutter. She wasn’t sure if he liked her the same way she liked him, but she knew she’d cherish this moment forever.

“I have another surprise for you,” Tadashi declared as they stopped by a pond. His cheeks flushed pink as he looked at the ground. “I probably should have asked you before getting all the paperwork done, but...”

He pulled out some papers and held them out for (Y/N).

(Y/N)’s (E/C) eyes widen at the words. “You... want to adopt me?”

Tadashi nodded in confirmation.

“I didn’t know what to expect when I had been offered to join the team taking care of you, but I’m glad I did. You’re a really special person, (Y/N), and I loved to have you apart of my life if you want to join.”

The hybrid threw her arms around him, tears spilling down her cheeks.

“Of course I’d want to join!”

The boy smiled, returning her embrace. The future was feeling a lot more hopeful and definitely brighter with this girl by his side. 

[alisonwritesimagines]

Type ~Spencer Reid Imagine~

Summary: When you run into your ex husband, Will Graham, in Minnesota during a case, you introduce him to your new husband, Spencer Reid. That’s when the team notices something. 

Author’s Note: I read Red Dragon and my friend and I are going to watch Hannibal soon. So I hope I get a good accuracy of Will Graham.

When Hotch announced a new case in Minnesota, you were hesitated to go on this case. Especially where the case took place. You haven’t been in Minnesota almost years ago. Now, you were going back. 

“Are you sure you want to go, Y/N? You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Hotch told you.

Hotch knew about you’re life before you met Spencer. You were married to a profiler by the name of, Will Graham. You both divorced after a fall out of your marriage.

“This is an important case and we need everyone possible on it,” You tell Hotch.

“Alright.”

When you got on the plane, you sat next to Spencer as you both started to look at the files. You started to feel a little light headed as you got closer to Minnesota. 

“You okay?” Spencer asked you. You looked over at him and nodded.

“I think I need a nap,” You tell him. Spencer put his arm around you, letting you rest against him. 

By the time you got to Minnesota, you all went to the FBI quarters. You saw your old boss Jack Crawford making him smile over. 

“Is that Y/N L/N?” He asked. 

“It’s Y/N Reid now. I remarried,” You tell him as you gave him a hug. 

“I see. Must be one lucky man.”

“Everyone, this is Jack Crawford. My old boss when I used to work here,” You introduce the team to Jack.

“Pleasure to meet you all. Let me lead you to our room where we try to connect the pieces together.”

You all walked into the office where you saw a bulletin with red lines and pictures. You looked around to see that Will wasn’t in the room. Probably at a lecture. 

“What can you tell us about the case?” Rossi asked.

“Well, we have three kills that are very similar to one another. They all have cuts in the throats and they have bondage bruises on their wrists.”

“Possible ritual? Cult maybe?” You suggested.

“We think that a cult is one of the possibilities,” You head. You turned around to see your ex husband, Will, walk over. 

“Will,” You acknowledged. 

“Y/N,” He said. 

“Everyone, this is Will Graham. One of our profilers and a professor for one of our forensic classes,” Jack told everyone. You avoided eye contact with Will.

After the small meeting, you started to walk out with JJ. As you both talked about the case, you heard Will’s voice.

“Y/N!” You turned around to see Will walk over to you.

“Yes, Will?” You asked him.

 “I was wondering if you wanted to grab coffee sometime while you’re here,” Will said. 

“Okay. Coffee sounds fine,” You tell him.

“Great. I’ll see you soon then, I guess,” Will told you before leaving. 

“Was that your ex husband?” JJ asked as soon as Will was gone from hearing distance. 

“Yes.”

“You know, he’s kinda like Spencer. From what I saw during the meeting,” JJ said. 

“I suppose so but Spencer is... more stable,” You tell JJ.

“What happened?” 

“He was too unstable. I tried to help him. Things just got the best of us,” You tell JJ as you both walked out. 

The next day, you woke up a bit late. When you rushed to the board room, you saw Rossi the only one there.

“Where is everyone?” You asked. 

“At your ex husband’s lecture. Care to join me with them?” He asked.

“Of course.”

You both walked to the room where you saw the team seated. They were watching Will teach as he was explaining to his students on what they need to look for when you’re trying to catch a killer. 

“He’s good,” Emily told you.

“He is.”

After the lecture, Will caught up to you.

“Can we get that coffee?” He asked.

“Sure.”

You went to a nearby coffee shop where you both were sitting face to face. 

“How are you?” Will asked. 

“I’m fine. How are you?” You asked.

“Good. Good.”

“Do you still hate eye contact?” You asked Will.

“Kinda. But you know that I’m okay with eye contact with you,” Will said.

“That’s nice to hear.”

“I see that you moved on,” He said. 

“Yeah.”

“Does he make you happy?”

“Of course he does.”

“Good. I’m sorry what happened years ago,” He said. 

“Will, it’s fine. Now tell me, are you seeing anyone?” You asked. Will chuckled before shaking his head.

“No.”

“I see.”

“Tell me about you and Spencer,” Will said. 

At the end of the day, you were back in the hotel with Spencer. You lied down on the bed while Spencer was sitting on it, reading a book. 

“Y/N,” Spencer asked.

“Yes?”

“Is there going on between you and Will?” He asked.

“No. Spencer, we divorced years ago,” You tell him, sitting up.

“I just wanted to see if-”

“Spencer, no. I love you now. This means that I’m yours,” You says holding up your ring finger.

“Will and I were a past. Your my future,” You say.

“So I have nothing to worry about,” Spencer said. 

“You never have anything to worry about. I love you so much,” You tell Spencer. 

“I love you too,” Spencer said. You gave him a quick kiss before smiling at him.

“You want to hear something funny?” Spencer asked. 

“What?”

“Morgan told me that Will and I are a little alike and that you have a type,” Spencer said. 

“Oh geez,” You said, rolling your eyes. 

“Do you really have a type?” Spencer asked.

“Brunettes who are incredible smart and is fascinated by dead bodies. Sure, I have a type,” You sarcastically said. Spencer laughed a little before you smiled and gave him another kiss. 

After you all had caught the killer, Will had come by to say bye to you and the rest. You gave him a quick hug goodbye before you stood back next to Spencer. 

“Hopefully we can see each other again. Grab some coffee,” Will said to you and Spencer.

“Hopefully, you have a girlfriend by then,” You say. Will chuckled before looking over at Spencer.

“Take care of her,” Will said. 

“I will,” Spencer smiled. 

“We’ll see you again sometime, Will,” You say.

“Thanks for helping on this case,” Will said. 

“No problem.”

“Say hi to your dogs for me,” You say.

“I will.”

You held onto Spencer as you both waved goodbye to Will and heading off to the plane. 

[wesknox]

☒ FACTS ABOUT W E S

FULL NAME: Wesley Ronald Knox

NICKNAMES: Wes, Weslington, Weasel, Wessy

BIRTHPLACE: Brighton and Hove, East Sussex

BIRTH DATE: 28th of December 2001

CURRENT AGE: 16

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Homosexual

EYE COLOR: Blue

HAIR COLOR: Blonde

BODY MODIFICATIONS: Piercing on the left bottom lip

HEIGHT: 6 ft 2 (190 cm)

WEIGHT: 179 pounds (81 kg)

RELIGION: Christian-Catholic

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: single

✔ L I K E S

Junk food, rock/indie/alternative music, poems, Charles Dickens’ books, Netflix, getting lost on the wrong side of Youtube, Brandon Urie’s voice, karaoke bars, midnight talks with Kyle, Edgar Allen Poe, going for late walks with Hamlet, gay bars/clubs, Maya Angelou, playing the guitar and chewing gum.

✘ D I S L I K E S

Bad grammar, homophobes, when his mum doesn’t have time for him, ignorance, pineable on pizza, any kind of sport, Mr. Creevey, shopping with Ronnie, maths, people interrupting him and people talking shit about people he cares about.

▲ T R A I T S

☼ GOOD: Reliable, charismatic, loyal, communicative and generous.

☢ BAD: Lazy, forgetful, dreamy, persistent, chaotic, stubborn, unstable and insecure.

☒ B A C K S T O R Y

- Wes’ mother works as a nurse and works basically ALL the time, that’s why she sent Wes to Clifton, she hated leaving him alone for days in a row. His mother is the most loving, generous and kind-hearted person you’ll ever meet. Wes admires her a lot for the things she does on a daily, working her ass off to help others. Although he doesn’t get to see her often, his mother is his rock. He can’t remember the last time he’s seen her without dark bags under her eyes, messy hair and scrub but she seems to be happy, so he is happy for her. His mum got him at a young age, so she’s a young mum and definitely proud of her “sunshine”. Her choice of men hasn’t been so lucky in the past; men coming and going and Wes always there to pick up the pieces. 

- Wes grew up without a father. His dad left him and his mother for another family when Wes was only a two years old. He doesn’t have any memories of him other than the birthday and Christmas cards he’s sending every year. Wes hates his father, every mention of him but easily sees a dad figure in every male adult or person of authority like teachers or doctors. A therapist would call it “daddy issues”.

- Wes also does have three paternal half sisters but he’s never seen or talked to any of them; just knows about the mere existence. He’s never been curious to find out more about them and since ignoring his father’s cards worked so far, he wants to keep it that way.

- Wes found his love for poetry and pretty words at a pretty early age. His kindergartener always read poems before afternoon nap and little Wes was so fascinated by the words being used, he begged his mum to get him all kind of kids editions of famous poem collections. She never understood it, she herself never having anything to do with poetry at all, but she accepted it. Not like she had much of choice when your five year old begs you for books. When Wes got older, he started writing some himself, his English teacher encouraging and challenging him. He liked Wes and Wes liked him. He saw only good in Wes, predicting a great future but unfortunately his mum never got to hear any of the good feedback he had on her son.

- He met his best friend, Kyle, in primary school and have been best friends ever since. Kyle is one of the most important people in Wes’ life, if not the most important. He can always count on him, no matter the time, no matter the circumstance. Kyle is Wes’ personal protector and never let anyone being mean to Wes slide. When the both of them started high school at Clifton, Ronnie came to the mix and the three have been inseperable since. Ronnie was exactly what he wished for Kyle; she was absolutely perfect for him.

- When Wes was thirteen he began struggling with his self-esteem. He thought he was too pale, too scrawny, too tall and his forming acne didn’t help the case either. He started showing symptoms of a mild depression, locking himself in his room unless it was Kyle who wanted to see him. His mum blamed herself and her constant absence and immediately sent him off to multiple therapy sessions, all of which didn’t help a whole lot. He hated it. 

- A year later, he realized he was gay. You could say, he always kind of knew that something was different, if his crush on Harry Potter was anything to go by, but at the age fourteen he admitted to himself after pining after Joey Carpenter for the longest time and jerking off to his school picture that he, in fact, liked dick and dick only. Later that summer, him and Joey Carpenter’s best friend started dating. The irony, huh. Although secretly, but Wes did believe he was in love back in the day and he would’ve done anything for Tim, that was his name. It was his first and only boyfriend, his first gay experience so more than handjobs and blowjob was not in it. They dated for three months but sooner or later, Wes found flithy texts to another boy on Tim’s phone. Not long after that, they broke up.

- At 15, Wes had his first time with a guy named Blake. Blake was older, hot and experienced. He met Blake at Why Not?, a gay bar in Bristol. Wes was immediately attracted to him, absolutely drawn to the authority the older radiated. Him and Blake went on a date or two until Wes let Blake fuck him. It hurt, but it was hot and Wes was happy he finally got it over with. How things go, the both of them ended things rather quickly after that and Wes started to get around. Thanks to his fake ID it was possible for him to lie about his age and sleep with guys older than he was at the time.

- Wes wanted a piercing. Not just any piercing but a lip piercing and he wanted it bad. Wes wasn’t old enough to get it done by himself, so when he asked his mother for approval, it was a no brainer. “Are you sure?” is all she asked and when Wes nodded enthusiastically, she signed the papers without second-guessing a thing. The next day, him and Kyle went to get pierced together.

- When it got out at school that Wes Knox was gay, most people took it well and were very accepting of the news while some people gave him disapproving looks. Especially a group of jocks made it their mission to make Wes’ life extraordinarily hard. Steven Dally, the leader of the pack definitely had it out for Wes and always had a stupid, homophobic remark on his tongue when he saw Wes. It was childish, and truly, Wes tried not to take it to heart, not the way Kyle did anyway. It wasn’t until he gave Steven Dally a blowjob in the showers after PE that the bullying got out of hand. Wes figured it was his way of dealing with regret or fear, but he ignored it for as long as he could until one afternoon Steven and his friends beat him up until he was spitting blood and his nose was broken. 

- Wes was seeking revenge. Something in his mind wanted to see Steven hurt in a way humanly unimaginable and it went further than seeing Kyle punch Steven in the face and him being expelled the next day. No, it had to go way deeper than that. On a way more emotional basis. So he set up a profile of a girl named Nicole Jennings. Nicole was pretty, young, independent and absolutely irressistable. Every guy’s wet dream. What started out as a plan to get back at Steven Dally, turned into something way more... fun. 

- It was a good laugh. Kyle and him laughing at the sexual frustrated guys that were more than willing to share all kind of pictures with Nicole, but soon their nightly rituals of laughing at other people’s expense lost its charm to Kyle and he told Wes to delete Nicole’s profile. But Wes didn’t do as told and started to find a liking in being Nicole, in being someone else -- no, he took things even further. He was insecure and as Nicole, he had all the guys wrapped around his little finger. He sexted, broke hearts without even a blink of his eye or showing any kind of remorse. It didn’t matter to him, because he was being someone else. He didn’t have to face any sort of consequences. 

- It wasn’t until he found Jake Seringway on Facebook. Jake being recommended as “people you may also know” and while Wes would’ve definitely remembered a face like Jake’s, he looked at his profile anyway and looked through the things Jake Seringway liked, what kind of photos he posted, what kind of people he hung out with and what schools he went to. Although Jake didn’t seem like the guy to accept  a stranger’s friend request, Wes, disguised as beautiful Nicole Jennings, tried his luck anyway - and a few hours later, Jake accepted it.

- What Wes knows now, Jake was different from the start. He wasn’t needy or frustrated, he was full of life and honest interest. While Wes texted with other guys beside Jake, Jake was his favourite person to talk to, the person he would always drop everything for in order to answer his texts. He stayed up long nights in order to talk to Jake, to hear how his day was and what his dreams and aspirations are. Wes himself revealed so much of himself, something he didn’t do before, but it was so easy with Jake and he wanted him to know. Sooner or later, Jake was all Wes thought about. During class, they would text each other and Wes got in so much trouble for texting (damn Mr. Creevey), but he didn’t care and before he knew it, he was falling. Hard and undeniably. All the other boys were irrelevant and all that mattered was JakeJakeJake. After months of texting they agreed to be a couple, Wes always finding an excuse as to why they can’t meet up. Although there was this big, massive lie in between them, Wes was happy and for the first time in his life, truly in love.

- Jake transfered to Clifton when Wes was in year 9 and to say it was a shock, would be the understatement of the year. Jake was even more beautiful in real life; muscular with long legs, a nice butt and that smile had Wes weak in the knees. Wes would’ve loved to snog him right then and there and just blurt out the whole truth, that hey, it’s me, I’m Nicole. I’m your girlfriend. Wes wanted to end it as soon as he saw Jake for the first time. Suddenly everything got so real, too real and it dawned on Wes what the hell he was actually doing, playing someone so dirty. One time he ran into Jake and talked to him for the first time as Wes and Wes was a stuttering mess but Jake was so kind and so nice and so straight and Wes wanked that night until he started to cry.

- The day he told Jake, was the worst of his life so far. He hated himself -- he was downright disgusted with himself. How could he ever look into Jake’s eyes again or anyone’s for that matter after what he did? He deserved the black eye he was sporting for two weeks and even more than that. He faked being sick for a week until Grimmy found out and forced him back to classes. Wes underwent heartbreak for the first time in his life.

- When Jake and him started to be something like friends, he couldn’t believe his luck. Couldn’t believe this was happening after all he’s done, but he figured it was typical and so Jake because Jake was kind, nice and all the things Wes wasn’t - not after what he did. 

- Wes hasn’t slept with anyone since going out with Jake as Nicole. Even now, while the both of them are still friends, Wes can’t bring himself to go see someone else, even if it’s just sex. Not when everything seems like Jake might give him a chance. Not when Jake kisses him and acts like it didn’t happen the next two weeks. Not when Jake is still the main inspiration in his poetry.

- Wes usually chills in his room, listening You Me At Six or pines over Brendon Urie’s jawline. The latter he would easily deny. He works on his poems and tries not to make any enemies or stand out, which to be fair is going along quite smoothly since him, Kyle and Ronnie do not quite fit the popular type. People would probably refer to the trio as misfits and none of them seem to mind. Kyle with his colourful hair that change every month, Ronnie with her idiotic yet adorable bowties and Wes.. being, well, Wes.

- After Clifton, Wes wants to study Creative Writing at NYU. He’s always had this straight fascination with New York and it’s always been his dream to someday move and live there. While he’s going to miss his mum, he believes she won’t be sad for too long, her first love always being her job. He wants to be a writer and inspire people with his words, just like Edgar Allen Poe, Charles Dickens or Maya Angelou did. 

[convenientalias]

ALL TWELVE OF THE INTIMATE FANFIC ASKS

HOLY SHIT OKAY.

1. what’s your all-time favorite fic? why? could we get a line or twofrom it? 

This question is like asking someone their favorite book. Except worse,because at least you usually have a couple books prepared for that question, acouple standard books. No one ever asks you about fics so you only have likethis really sloppy conglomeration of faves that you have never criticallycompared to each other. Yikes.

So tbh I can’t name a single fic as my favorite, but two of myfavorites are The Finer Shades of Why by Yesac, and The World on His Wrist bybendingsignpost. I will give you a maybe kind of long excerpt of each.

TheFiner Shades of Why (Chapter 30) Fandom: Star Wars

"What are you hoping to gain?”

Again, Dooku stops, this time just at the perimeter of Obi-Wan’s lineof sight. Any further and he’ll be off down the hallway, striding past otherempty cells where Obi-Wan won’t be able to see him.

In the back of his mind, Obi-Wan finds himself wondering just what partof the detention area of the temple he’s in.

"Gain?” he asks slowly, and although Dooku’s back is turned, Obi-Wan canalmost imagine that he sees his lips slowly forming the syllables, like he’sphysically chewing them as he mulls the concept over in his mind. “It is notwhat I stand to gain, Master Kenobi. It is what I stand to lose. You cannot, willnot, give me anything. You have made that clear. But you will find that you canno longer take either.”

The WorldOn His Wrist (Prologue)Fandom: Sherlock

The early days are hard. He has but one watch then and uses it only totell the time. When it begins, it begins like this: First, he is shot in Afghanistan. Second, he wakes to a phone call in Chelmsford, Essex. The call is urgent, a summons to Broomfield Hospital. Car accident on themotorway, massive. He responds in the affirmative, rising out of habit,dressing automatically. He knows the hospital, can’t place this house, andaccepts it as a dream. He has yet to realize he will never dream again. Twenty hours later, focused past any danger of confusion, he settles down.Limbs were lost, lives were saved. Most lives. He drinks his coffee and optsfor a nap before he drives home. Third, he wakes to Bill’s voice and face and more pain than he has ever known.He passes out.

2. what’s your go-to lazy sunday morning fic, the story you like to readunder fluffy covers with 11 AM sunshine slanting through the windows?

I’m hoping this is supposed to be a type of fic and not a specific ficbecause I have never read fanfic under such circumstances, but extrapolatingthat it’s supposed to be a low-key feel-good fic I would say I would probablyread some Teen Wolf fic focused mainly on romance. Possibly a stupidly tropeyAU.

A good example would be the fic Fireman Derek’s Crazy Pie [CheeseburgerBaby] .

3. which trope makes your heart go absolutely weak at the knees? 

This seems to indicate epic romance which is not really my thing. So it’shard for me to come up with anything. Ummm….identity reveals in fics where themain conflict has been secret identities. Are nice. Idk if that qualifies.

4. what trope are you most embarrassed to like? 

Probably definitely non-con.

5. what’s your favorite gross guilty-pleasure pairing? 

Prooooobably Hannigram. You can never quite escape the fact that one ofthem is a cannibal and the other is a mentally unstable FBI profiler. And thatthey try to kill each other and are genuinely obsessed with each other. I mean,I’ve seen it played out in less gross ways and more gross ways but even if youcover your ears and hum really loudly it is still pretty bad.

I enjoy a lot of other guilty pleasure ships but none of them are aspurely, as consistently gross and terrible as Hannigram, so I give Hannigramthe award.

6. is there a setting or time in your life that you strongly associatewith reading a certain fic? (ex: reading star wars slash on a specificvacation)

Not really. Strongly associate it with my desk. Other than that since I am currently at that time in my life I can’t get the nostalgia out of it, I guess.

7. what image or place do you remember from a fic most vividly? whathas left a lasting impression on you?

Ummmm...There’s an NCIS fic called The Window that is really, really effective as a) a kidnapping fic, b) a fic about isolation and mental instability and c) a hurt/comfort fic. The first chapter is terribly long and it takes place over a couple months in a single, mostly empty room, and it’s brutal.

8. have you ever had a shameful experience involving fic? whathappened?

At the end of last summer I was in a restaurant with two friends, a guy and a girl. The guy asked me what I hadd written over the summer because he knew I wrote fanfic. I said I’d actually tried writing some slash and femslash, warning him not to judge.

He said he didn’t judge but he thought “he at least had the right to an explanation.”

It was completely humiliating.

So I told him I had been questioning my sexuality and writing was part of how I thought through things. But now I kind of regret giving him an excuse. Because frankly it was none of his business. It’s not like I was doing anything wrong.

9. if you could meet your favorite author irl, would you? what wouldyou say to them? 

Megan Whalen Turner? I would kind of like to. Probably I would just saysomething typical like, “Your books are amazing.” Actually I sent her fanmailonce so I would probably just reiterate something like that.

10. name a fic that you’ve read more than once. or maybe five times. orten. 

Keep Throwing Things and Slamming the Door by Traincat the basic starter Spideytorch fic, probably the first or second Spideytorch fic I ever read. SECRET IDENTITIES.

Also A Stalking Surprise by Lucifer Rosemaunt, the best of her three Erik/Raoul oneshots with werewolves, just imo. (Yes, she wrote three Erik/Raoul fics with werewolves. I agree, she’s amazing.)

11. what fic do you wish you had written?

 Can’t think of anything off the top of my head. Usually, if a fic is that good, either I take it as inspiration and I write something similar, or I just enjoy its existence because now I don’t have to write it because it already exists.

12. tell me a short story about how fanfiction has intersected withyour life.

Once one of my irl friends dared me to write a fic where Eugene from the movie Gattaca took up throwing knives as a hobby.

I wrote it.

He never actually read it, though. To be fair it’s about 7000 words long. Which is pretty long for a crack prompt. BUT HE WAS ALSO THE GUY FROM QUESTION 8 SO I GIVE HIM ZERO LEEWAY ON THIS.

Anyways this has been a very long answering session, I hope you’re satisfied.

[wdd41bryan-afonso-week7-cp]

Resources for Keeping Current on Emerging Technology

Technology has revolutionized how we live and operate our day to day lives. This explosion of tech has allowed us to become significantly more efficient in accomplishing everyday tasks from organizing meetings, to navigating somewhere you have never been. With so much development happening in this remarkable sector one tends to think; Is there a place we can go to where we can learn more about upcoming developments in tech? Luckily there are many outlets that cater to this very topic, but for practicality I will present to you the top 5 best media platforms to learn about new and upcoming tech news.

CNET: www.cnet.com

Is a fantastic media platform that tells you what's new in tech, culture and science, and why it matters, how it works and what you need. CNET delivers news, commentary, analysis, features, FAQs, advice, hands-on reviews, buying guides, fantastic photography and informative videos. CNET encourages their audience to report back if they find an error, spot a gap in coverage, or want more questions answered or have suggestions for how they can improve.

A piece of emerging tech I discovered on CNET recently was a company that makes a license plate reader has announced a national network for law enforcement to follow car movements. It's already in more than 700 cities. The network looks to connect law enforcement agencies using its cameras, allowing agencies that opt into the program to view camera data from other regions. 

Link: https://www.cnet.com/news/license-plate-tracking-for-police-set-to-go-nationwide/

Popular Mechanics : www.popularmechanics.com/technology

Popular Mechanics has been around since 1902! Providing their readers with detailed breakdown on how everything in the world and outside the world works. Popular Mechanics delivers the latest news on innovations and inventions across the automotive, DIY, science, technology, and outdoor spaces. They also serve their readers with the knowledge they need to get the most out of life, whether that's how to change a tire, how to build a farmhouse table, how to find your lost phone, or how to hike the Appalachian Trail. What sets Popular Mechanics apart from the others is they really embrace being curious about the world around you, and getting your hands dirty along the way.

Something I learned from PM was an article that highlighted that Neural Networks in AI DO in fact require a rest period just as we humans require sleep. According to new research from the Los Alamos National Laboratory, neural nets might actually need that shuteye—or at least a machine's version of it. Because neural net simulations can become unstable after prolonged periods of unsupervised learning—the processing time during which the system looks for patterns in a dataset—Watkins and her team posited that a digital kind of "nap" could return the system to stasis.

TED Talks: www.ted.com

TED is a nonprofit devoted to spreading ideas, usually in the form of short, powerful talks (18 minutes or less). TED began in 1984 as a conference where Technology, Entertainment and Design converged, and today covers almost all topics — from science to business to global issues — in more than 100 languages. Meanwhile, independently run TEDx events help share ideas in communities around the world.

In this powerful talk, that could change your perception of tech and the world around us, designer and artist Jiabao Li introduces her conceptual projects that expose the inherent bias of digital media. From a helmet that makes you "allergic" to the color red to a browser plug-in that filters the internet in an unexpected way, Li's creations uncover how technology mediates the way we perceive reality.

https://www.ted.com/talks/jiabao_li_art_that_reveals_how_technology_frames_reality

TechCrunch: techcrunch.com

TechCrunch is an American online publisher focusing on the tech industry. The company specifically reports on business related to tech, technology news, analysis of emerging trends in tech, and profiling of new tech businesses and products.

An article titled: Driving digital transformation with continuous automation and AI-assistance talks about How AI will continue to reshape business models and even further now since the pandemic has changed things.

https://techcrunch.com/sponsor/dynatrace/driving-digital-transformation-with-continuous-automation-and-ai-assistance/

[suzu-story]

Day 75

5 steps forward, 3 steps back. That’s how it’s felt the past month. But that’s ok because I can see progress. Reading back through the blog posts I’ve published so far it’s clear that I am still swinging back and fourth between zen and anger. It’s unfortunate because the anger normally gets triggered and immediately the Mrs inside me has taken over and internally fighting with her is the resultant anger. 

I’ve been on the fence a lot lately too. Despite making it clear that my marriage is over I guess inside I was still hoping for some sign or indication that there was still a chance. Even though I’d made some bold conclusions and reasoning as to why there was no going back I guess if someone had told me that I could make it work and get through it I would have easily opened up to the idea knowing I had the support and wasn’t alone. 

I’m going to come right out and say it but since he got back I’ve hated my ex-husband. I hated that things seemed fine and when he came back I was confused again. I hated how I’d show my feelings and make a move only to feel distance and coldness from him the day after and feel rejected. That then would project onto me and I would display the same and most likely he’s felt like I’m being distant. Back and fourth back and fourth.

I hate how I become a blubbering mess when he’s around. That really isn’t me. The things I’m whining, crying and complaining about isn’t even that bad. I know it’s not that bad. When I talk about it afterwards to friends I’m fine and strong and I ask myself over and over again why I behave that way making myself appear unstable when really I’m not? It’s a bad habit I need to stop. It’s definitely why he was unable to see the strong driven person I was during our relationship when I was putting on psycho.

I’ve also let white noise in. It’s sabotaged my feelings and thoughts and almost cost me 2 friendships. I’m lucky that those 2 friends decided to explain the truth to me instead of writing me off like a certain someone does. Nobody’s perfect and often we fuck up and get it wrong. People need to be reminded sometimes. I believe in giving people second chances or at least the chance to realise. Can’t expect people to get it right the first time. 

The white noise twisted my thoughts and caused me to lash out. I couldn’t think rationally like I usually would amongst other stresses I’ve been going through.

Overall I realise that even though I’ve said many times I shouldn’t dwell on what ifs I’m still doing it. I’m still filtering through things said and things not agreed with. I guess I held onto it because it was a step towards saving my marriage and regardless of what I say in my heart I had never completely burnt that bridge.

But it doesn’t matter anymore. It’s time to move on.

This will be the last entry I write in this blog. 

When I started this I wanted to document my side of the story hence the name. I didn’t realise it then but it was my way of putting my raw emotions on paper and telling my side. 

I never had to do that nor should I. What’s important is what I do now. 

Because this blog was where I put my raw emotion it would mean that the content coming out would be unfiltered and irrational from going round and round my head. It’s not healthy for me because people reading this blog could and have taken those thoughts and used it against me. They don’t see me realising later that I was not of sane mind. They don’t see me acknowledging that I fucked up when I lash out and then try to make up for it with those affected. It’s toxic and I’m adding fuel to their fire.

And because I know that this blog can be read by anyone it restricts me from expressing myself fully and talking about taboo subjects. 

How much I actually wanted to save my marriage as recently as last week.

How scarred I am from a letter I received threatening my life and wishing my family dead because of their relation to me. 

The times I almost killed myself.

My growing feelings for someone that  I’ve tried to push away. What’s amazed me is that since this person has entered my life I’ve felt no need for validation nor does it faze me that everyone despises him.

I had a really good chat with a friend yesterday about things and we were both able to clarify things that had been bothering us. He also opened up to me and told me everything that he had gone through in his childhood that led him to the person he was today. I was appreciative that he felt comfortable enough to tell me that. We both also acknowledged times where we let each other down and I realised that my assumptions about him were completely wrong. 

I will say it again. People who care about you will always be there to remind you why. They will always give you a chance to realise.

So now as I type this and my daughter has woken up from her nap I will close out by saying tomorrow’s blog entry will be in a new location on my profile that will be titled: Suzu’s Life. Because that is not a story. Not a point of view. Not an opinion. It’s simply my life as I experience it moving forward. The good, the bad and nothing but pure honesty.

This time I’m not asking people to read it. If people choose to it’s at their own discretion for their own reasons. The information cannot be used against me because it’s my experiences and my truths. If it offends anyone or causes them to think a certain way about me then that’s ok. I’ve also since reminded that people are entitled to what they think. It’s not my job to convince them otherwise. I won’t be losing sleep over it because I’ll be too busy living. 

Suzume out

[janiceclaudetteo]

Moz Local Review 2017 – Does It Work?

Last year, Local SEO Guide paid Moz Local about $17,000. Our primary goal was to use it as a one-stop shop to push some of our clients’ info to the main data listings aggregators. While the service worked for our needs, it was not without its share of hiccups. Our contract is up for renewal and before we committed to another year, we wanted to make sure it was going to be a worthwhile investment. So we decided to run a test to see how its most current version works.

We tend to get complicated SEO cases for multi-location businesses and we wanted to see how the latest version of ML handled a common case for us – listings that have overlapping NAP data with other related businesses.

On August 11th, we purchased a MozLocal plan for Locadium, our new GMB change alert service. Before then there were only a few sites that had Locadium NAP info indexed in Google such as the California Secretary of State website. The business had been incorporated in Feb 2017 but none of the aggregators had picked it up yet and it was on none of the top local directories. It had the exact same phone number and address as Local SEO Guide, Inc. and Backfence Media, Inc. (a corporation that has been defunct for several years). I should note, before this test none of these businesses had listings in Neustar Localeze, Acxiom or InfoGroup. Here’s what happened:

TL;DR

MozLocal got Locadium into InfoGroup, Acxiom, YP.com and probably CitySearch, DexKnows, InsiderPages, and Whitepages.com within about a month.

In cases where Local SEO Guide, Inc. and Backfence Media had existing listings, Moz Local identified them as “Inconsistent” versions of the Locadium pages and provided no way for us to keep them as separate business listings.

In some cases, MozLocal identified new Locadium listings it helped create as “Duplicates” of the LSG and Backfence listings and provided no option to correct this.

After two months, we were informed by ML that there was at least a two month delay in getting updates into Factual and that Neustar Localeze would not take our listing because they already had a listing for us, even though they did not.

“Record scratch” – Let’s start at the beginning:

August 11th, 2017 No GMB or Facebook Page – No MozLocal Verification MozLocal will not allow a business without a GMB or Facebook page to use its service. They use these pages as verification that the business is legit. It’s probably not normal for a business starting out with ML to not have one of these but Locadium had neither. We were interested in seeing how long it would take Google to auto-create a GMB page for us. We’re still waiting.

I set up this Facebook page for Locadium on August 11th. Share it with your Family & Friends!

August 30th, 2017 Verified It took 19 days for ML to verify Locadium’s Facebook page. I suspect this has something to do with how long it took Facebook to add Locadium to its Places API. It took Google about three days to index the Locadium Facebook page. Oddly, the first versions it indexed were Russian (#FAKE NEWS).

Once Locadium was verified, I was able to add a business description, a tagline, hours and additional data including store within a store info, store code, neighborhood, etc. I had a minor issue with categorization – I could only specify Locadium as either a Software Company or an Internet Marketing Service, hardly the most precise categories. But this is likely an issue with aggregator and publisher categorization, not MozLocal.

Post-verification, the MozLocal dashboard quickly updated the status of Locadium’s listings. It showed the Facebook page and a profile on Superpages, which was odd since Locadium did not have a profile on Superpages. It had marked the SP profile as “Inconsistent.” I clicked over to Superpages.com and found myself looking at the Local SEO Guide, Inc. Superpages profile. Apparently because both LSG and Locadium have the same phone number and address, ML interpreted the LSG Superpages listing as a relevant profile with conflicting NAP data. This is a good thing to point out as it’s quite common for businesses to have an issue like this for a variety of reasons. I clicked back to MozLocal and was prepared to be offered the option of “Ignore listing” or “Different Business at Same Address” or something like that. I was not offered any way to resolve this situation.

Quickly thereafter the dashboard updated to show ML had found listings for Locadium on both Best of The Web and HotFrog. These two were also Local SEO Guide, Inc. listings.

ML showed that the other services in its network had “Updates in Progress”, but that I had to create a listing myself for Google My Business, YP.com and Yelp. And in the case of Yelp, I would need to get reviews on the page before it would show up in MozLocal. It wasn’t clear why I needed to create my own listing on any of these services, except for Yelp, as this would be something I think a normal SMB would have expected to have ML do for them. Of course, knowing the industry, I understood why these sites don’t let ML create these listings for them.

August 31, 2017 Things Starting To Get Funky The next day I logged in and saw the YP.com reference had disappeared from the Incomplete screen. But there was no other reference to YP on any of the other screens. Later that day it showed up again, but this time it referenced an old Backfence Media profile. A few hours later that too disappeared.

September 2nd, 2017 Ghosts in the Machine? Two days later the “Create a Listing” link for Google My Business disappeared from the dashboard. Over the course of the test I noticed this kind of thing happening intermittently. It felt like the connections to these services were unstable. Again, I’d say this was par for the course knowing what I know, but to a business owner, this kind of funkiness could be very confusing and troubling. It felt like a TV set that was often on the fritz as it were. But there was no way to kick the side of it.

September 6th, 2017 Starting To Work A week after Locadium was verified in ML, I got a call from InfoGroup to confirm Locadium’s information. While this may have just been a coincidence, I’d give pretty good odds that this was due to MozLocal.

September 8th, 2017 Locadium was now listed in ExpressUpdateUSA.com (InfoGroup’s front end database for businesses).

September 11th, 2017 Listings Starting To Appear I noticed Locadium was now listed on CitySearch and InsiderPages. Whether or not this was from ML or InfoGroup, hard to say, but it was progress. At the same time, I also noticed requests in ML to sync my business with GMB and Foursquare. I did not recall seeing those specific messages before. And again, if I were a naive business, I’d wonder why ML couldn’t do this for me.

September 16th, 2017 Duplication Creation The ML dashboard now showed I had one duplicate listing.

The dupe turned out to be the new Locadium listing, likely created as a result of the InfoGroup listing. The layout of the Duplicates Status screen made it slightly confusing to figure out what to click on, particularly in this evil twin scenario. “View Managed” turned out to be the link to the SP LSG page. But the only option I was given was to “Close” or “Ignore” the new Locadium SP listing, which ML itself had helped create! I really just wanted to mark the LSG page as “Ignore” and the new Locadium page as “Canonical” or whatever the main page should be called.

And the dashboard still showed it was unable to connect to YP.com.

September 17th, 2017 Interestingly the next day I noticed Google had two Locadium listings indexed from YP.com.

But since ML was unable to connect to YP.com it couldn’t tell me there had been a dupe listing created. Presumably this kind of notification is one of the key benefits of a service like ML. So again, if I had been an unsophisticated business, I would not have known about this potentially harmful issue. I know the SEO guy at YP so I pinged him and asked how the dupe was created. It turns out YP’s system can create these, so this was not caused by ML. Unfortunately, I think he deleted the dupe so I never got the chance to see if ML would eventually catch it.

September 23rd, 2017 Moving Along Locadium’s Acxiom listing was published. That same day, ML showed the same CitySearch listing twice and classified the BOTW LSG listing as “Inconsistent”.

Sept 27th, 2017 Locadium listings appeared on DexKnows.com and WhitePages.com. Neither of these sites are explicitly powered by ML (but DexKnows and SuperPages are owned by the same company so it was likely updated at the same time as SuperPages), so it’s likely these were due to getting published in InfoGroup or Acxiom.

Epilogue Locadium’s ML status has remained unchanged for all other sites. To recap, after two months, MozLocal has gotten Locadium published on:

InfoGroup Acxiom SuperPages YP.com DexKnows.com WhitePages.com And likely CitySearch & InsiderPages

On the one hand, this is not a bad result for $99. I didn’t have to do much. I got the business on some decent sites and over time I suspect the aggregator listings will filter out to more services. But it still felt like more than 50% of what MozLocal promised to do wasn’t done. I decided to ping their help chat.

October 17th, 2017 I submitted the following message via ML’s help chat window: “Hey guys – having an issue with MozLocal – I am using it for our new company – Locadium – Locadium is at the same address/phone as another business I own. In some cases, ML is flagging Locadium as the dupe of my other business and in others it is flagging my other business as the dupe of Locadium. Unless I am missing something, there does not appear to be anyway to resolve this issue in the tool. There are also several sites that still have not been updated after 8 weeks – Factual, Localeze, Foursquare, etc. Would love some help/feedback. Thanks!”

October 19th, 2017 Two days later I received the following message from ML via the help chat (emphasis mine):

Hi Andrew!

Sorry for any confusion. You will need to update on (sic) business to have its own unique local phone number. Sharing the same phone number for two or more businesses confuse aggregators as they cannot distinguish whether or not a business is re-branding or moving to a new location. This will cause our tool to flag the other listings as possible duplicates. Also please keep in mind our duplicate detection are only “suggested” duplicates as we cannot make that determination. Click on “ignore” for any result that is not your business or is not a true duplicate (different physical location). 

Factual is currently experiencing a two month backup of processing submissions after a migration which affects everyone submitting data to them. We do not have an ETA of when their queues will catch up. 

Localeze is rejecting our submission as a listing in their database is already claimed. You will want to consult with them directly for more info. 

Foursquare, you will need to claim the listing to a connected Foursquare account. Please view Foursquare Sync to take action. 

To ensure data acceptance and seamless distribution of listing data. Each business must have a unique local phone number. 

Hope this helps and let me know if you have any questions!

To recap:

ML can’t deal with different business names at the same address and phone number because it claims data aggregators get confused by this. While I agree they probably do, they seem to have plenty of listings with different brands and the same phone numbers and addresses:

Neustar Localeze won’t take the Locadium listing because it already has one, even though it doesn’t. It does have a bad search engine, though, which I guess is why ML is being told that they already have the listing:

http://ift.tt/2yghpcJ