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littlefreya · 4 years

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The Way To Hell - Final Chapter

Summary: Post Mi6, Alternate Canon. August escapes Hunt with his face intact and is currently the most dangerous man on earth. Unwilling to back down from his murderous agenda, he plots to continue where he stopped while a trained assassin is sent to bring him down.

Pairing: August Walker x OFC (Ingvild) 🖤

Word count: 5k (including epilogue)

Warnings: 18+, smut, boomer Walker, some fluff, sexual intercourse, cock-warming, mentions of torture, implied insanity, slight mentions of gore, violence, murder, mass-shooting and death. Please proceed with caution

A/N: The ending is here and I hope I did it justice, I hope I did right by you. I will reblog my kudos, but first I must thank @agniavateira for being my beta and a source of inspiration and @raspberrydreamclouds for the cover art.

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, ideas or parts it and claiming it as your own*

Now allow me to die out of stress and anxiety.

Title: See You in Hell

Down by the valley, there is a serenity that exists only in fairy tales. Damp grass caresses her naked back, the pointy little tips ticking the base of her spine, leaving a fresh trail of dew. Pure mountain mist breathes life through blue hills caked with ice; white fog vales over the forest’s lush greenery and looms above the lake’s water like a lost-love phantom.

Lying with her eyes shut, she listens to the harmony of life surrounding her: the little fish bouncing in the river, the butterflies procreating mid-air and the hummingbird chirping with bliss. Yet the most beautiful sound is the low, melodic baritone humming and reverberating against her inner thighs.

”Angel, With those angel eyes Come and take this earth boy Up to paradise.”

”Boomer Walker…” she teases, “Is that a song from your time?”

Ascending a trail of kisses up her pelvis, he scoffs and shakes his head. “I’m starting to suspect that you have a kink for older men,” he answers with a throaty growl, shifting his weight further over her abdomen. The soft fur of his torso grazes between her thighs, and she sighs with pleasure.

”Do you want daddy to fuck you?”

”That’s gross!” she curls her nose and tries to hit his head playfully, but August snaps at her wrists with perfect instinct, pinning her hands against the wet meadow. His tongue flicks over the slant of her neck while he aligns his cock at the little piece of heaven between her legs.

Sensual yet rough, his massive girth splits her walls while his lips shower her with honeyed kisses. Ingvild throws her head back, lacing her fingers with his and coils herself beneath his large body.

“August...” she pants, feeling the air gradually diminishing from her lungs with every thrust, “I think I’m dying...”

Never halting or slowing his rhythm, August lowers his head to peer into her eyes. Fingers drenched with blood snap at her jaw.

“Stay with me, Ingvild.” He demands, letting out a husky groan, though his voice is but an echo.

A grey, thick mist wafts around the darkening forest, covering her with a bone-chilling breeze; his calling carries on the distance.

“Stay, princess...”

“Don’t leave...”

“Stay. We’ve only just begun.”

Ice bites its sharp fangs into the little creases between her cracked bones as another bucket filled with frosty water showers her trembling body. The stabbing pain lasts for a lingering moment, reminding her that she’s still very much alive.

It must be the 10th bucket, or maybe 12th? She lost count at some point. Day and night melt into one another in this place, and the hours don’t make much sense.

Muffled complaints vibrate in her ears. Vaguely her sight picks on two silhouettes arguing when the world abruptly flashes white, and her jaw soaks a terrible blow. Fully crashing onto the hard marble, she tries to recover, but a sudden kick rips through her abdomen.

“Your methods are too slow, Issac!” A grey-haired agent chides, standing over the girl with his foot still drawn, “Walker could be setting his bomb somewhere across the globe any minute now, and you’re taking your sweet time with her as if she’s an art project.”

The scrawny torturer frowns and turns his back at him. Walking toward the metal desk, he browses through different equipment. “My methods always work, the pretty little girl was taught to endure pain,” he grunts in exasperation and gestures at the bloodstained bandage around her hand, “she did this to herself.”

Sighing with a mixture of frustration and disgust, the CIA agent takes another swing at Ingvild’s torso, the pointy edge of his shoe colliding with the scar at her gut.

Bloodshot eyes rise with wrath, violent tides of aftershock course at her viscera. She peers at the men through the haze of pain when a third figure appears in the room, standing calmly whilst Issac and the agent argue among them.

Tall, broad, and charismatic, the handsome man strides toward her. His tailored steel-coloured suit envelops his statuesque body as if he is made of iron.

“You’re taking it so well, princess,” he praises in his deep, melodic baritone while crouching down to take a closer look. Ingvild lifts her head, slowly breaking into a weak grin. Onyx orbs replace the storm-touched eyes, but that chiselled face still belongs to her beautiful monster.

“Did you tell them anything about where I am headed?” he asks and gives her a pout, reaching his index finger and thumb to squeeze her bruised cheek affectionately.

Swallowing the aching dryness in her throat, she manages to shake her head meekly. “No… I said nothing,” her voice cracking as she whispers. Her chapped lips stretch into a pale, awkward grin.

Tiny lines form at the corner of his void-like eyes as he smiles back, radiating with dangerous delight.

“That’s my good girl.”

The grey-haired agent throws a glance over his shoulder, scrutinising Ingvild while he stands next to Issac, who is twirling a scalpel back and forth between his boney fingers.

“Who is she talking to?”

“Not very sane this one,” Issac explains as he examines the silver blade against the light, “multiple mental disorders, dissociative personality, psychotic.”

Pushing the agent aside with his free hand, Issac steps forward. He leers at Ingvild, who stares at nothing for a long second before averting her eyes back at them.

“We just need to dig a little deeper and the little bird will sing,” he exclaims and moves closer before dropping to his knees. One of his icy hands lands on her shoulder, forcing her flat on her back. Shuddering at his frozen touch, she closes her eyes; in the bleak nothingness, she recalls the night in the lake where August let her die.

“Pretty little Ingvild, have you heard of vivisection?” Her torturer asks as he lines his twig-like finger over the spine of the scalpel. Sensing his digits sneaking beneath the hem of her shirt, she shoots her eyes open yet remains still and intrepid.

The tiny black marbles beneath Issac’s brows glint with twisted joy, appeased at the sight of the scar as he exposes her torso. Ingvild expects the pain of the blade when something tepid and unpleasantly wet slithers across her gut like a little pink slug.

“Umm… Issac…?” The agent interrupts, furrowing his brow with confusion and disgust as he stares at his colleague licking the girl’s torso.

“What?!” Issac snaps at him, his eyes narrowing with spite, “you wanted me to go harder on her!”

“Yes, but…”

“But shut up and let me do my job!” He yells and returns his glare to Ingvild who blinks at the ceiling silently. Disrupted by his touch, she bites her tongue, fighting to hold back the acrid substance that threatens to emerge from her gut.

“You fight very hard to protect a man who doesn’t give a fuck about you, little bird,” his snake-like voice hisses as he leans down to half-whisper in her ear, “just tell me where he is and I won’t cut you open.”

Ingvild sucks the air in through gritted teeth and turns her head to look away from the obnoxious little man. She seeks for her beautiful monster, finding him leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. August’s empty glance wears a calm grin.

“He is in this room,” Ingvild jests faintly, her sardonic laughter stretching thin, her chest heaving, exhausting whatever strength is left in her muscles. August’s smirk widens with hers, large dimples are slicing into his cheeks.

Ticking his tongue, Issac allows the sharp edge of the scalpel cut a skin-deep line into her flesh. Ingvild stares at him stoically, not moving a muscle as shy drops of blood begin trickling down her navel.

“Are you sure about your response?” he asks, ghosting the scalpel over her abdomen while crooking an eyebrow.

Ingvild bites her lip, pretending to think about her answer for a few seconds. Lifting her head up, she inches her lips toward Issac’s ear. The scrawny man listens intently.

“August Walker is the devil, and the devil is everywhere.”

A peal of sinister chuckles spills from her lips as she throws her head back onto the ground, staring at Issac’s disapproving glare.

But her laughter soon dies.

Taut pressure pierces into her flesh, the blade penetrating deep, cutting through tissue and muscle as if it was soft cheese. Ingvild clenches her jaw, her mind flooded by charring white light that dismantles every thought while the blade continues to swerve.

For a brief moment, she finds herself in Bergen, hands covered with thick blood, holding the gushing wound in her stomach with shock. August stands above her, toying with his favourite knife and staring at the red taint.

“Time to fall, angel.”

Scattered musings run behind her eyes: Liam, the nuns at the orphanage, August, and even Erica. She’s reminded of every hit she was forced to take, every country she visited, all blending into a bizarre parade of death.

“C’mon girl, just tell us where he is!” She hears the other man shout as he steps closer with an urgent expression. “Just give us something, a country, a region, anything to make this stop, you can still do the right thing.”

The heavy stench of iron fills her nose; the warm, thick liquid trickles down her bare skin, spilling in a cross on the map of her torso. The pain now is undeniable, making her lips heavier as she makes an attempt to answer.

“I don’t…. know… any August.”

The CIA agent scoffs violently and balls his fists. “Deeper!” He orders Issac, who like a composer, trails the blade further through her gut, cutting into sinew and brittle tendons. Ingvild trembles, feeling her body grow weaker.

In her mind, she can hear caged screams.

“You will die for a man who doesn’t even care if you bleed!” The agent rasps, spit coming out of his mouth as he rages above her.

‘Stop!’

“He won’t even remember you once you die!”

‘Resist, don’t show pain. You’ve been through this before, you already died.’

“No one will.”

Swallowing every ounce of pain, she fights to remember her training, her past. Her mind scrambles for Fjellstrekninger forest, for the green pines and their stringy needles, for the scent of beech and the damp ground. She tries to imagine the silver-blue mountains of Bergen, that last time she hiked there before going to meet Liam at the gas station.

How strange that at the very same day she encountered the most wanted man on earth, not knowing she was destined to be his.

But none of these images appear before her.

‘You can’t escape this.’

Her screams shudder through the entire floor.

“Are you out of your goddamn mind?”

August flicks his tongue over his bottom lip, glowering at the driver who gawks at him with disbelief and shakes his head. Pushing the phone against his chin, he stares forward at the rainy road, reciting in his mind the words of the MI6 and CIA apostles.

‘Erica captured a woman in her late 20s, having her tortured for information for a couple of days now. Can’t promise you she’s alive. No one goes in there.’

“I wasn’t asking,” August answers, throwing him an icy glare, “we’re taking the chopper to the Mi6 fortress in London. I don’t need to tell you what happens if you question my decisions.”

The driver tenses his fingers around the steering wheel and shakes his head once again. He means to say something, but the scowl on August’s face shuts him up right away.

“Who is she? What is she to you?”

August huffs and lowers his gaze, eyes dropping to the plutonium case and then forward through the windshield, watching the heavy rain clouds that stretch before the sky. As he blinks his eyes shut, his mind plays a vision of an inferno; cracked ground and scorched skies. He sits on a throne made of bones and drinks wine from a chalice made of human skull.

His angel sits on his knee, naked and pure, her iridescent wings tucked against her back. She stares at him with a smile full of admiration, her fingers brushing over his moustache.

‘Your angel of destruction.’

“She’s just an asset.”

‘Hell lives inside you August, it always has. Rotting you from the inside as it begs to be let out. And you will unleash it, won’t you? Your suffering must be shared.’

Vast shadows gather outside the double-pane windows of the main hall. The thick storm clouds paint the sky pitch black, swallowing the stars alive one by one. Light wanes just in time for the harbinger of chaos to march into the well-secured lobby of the sizable Mi6 fortress.

If fairytales were to be true, the devil would arrive riding a monstrous mare with hooves made of flames. But if anything, he is but a man in a tailored suit and a long trench-coat. The leather soles of his midnight-black shoes squeak as he marches on, leaving a trail of mud on the cream-coloured marble.

“Evening sir,” the security guard greets and gestures August to pass through the large weapon detector with nothing but a quick exchange of knowing looks.

The corners of August’s lips curl into a small smile beneath his moustache while he scrutinises the surroundings. Gold and pearly pillars spread across the vast hall, a false facade hiding a decaying world and the self-indulgent ghosts that harbour it. So lost in their own little lie, it takes them more than a few minutes to notice the hellhound who stepped into their haven.

It begins as a small rumble, like a seismic wave. The first tremor vibrates through the ground and the walls follow with a convulsing shudder. Gasps, chatter, and widened eyes stab at him with shock, yet they all seem to suffer from the same affliction.

Standing paralysed, they ogle at the most wanted man on earth as he combs his fingers through his hair and walks toward the elevators located at the end of a narrow, red corridor. Unapologetically confident and ever so relaxed and condescending, he ignores them.

A true king among peasants.

“Is that?...”

“What the fuck?!”

“How the fuck did he pass security???”

His confidence is nothing but theatrics, as his blue eyes carry toward the large elevators with a glossy sparkle breaking on his corneas. He tries so hard to envision her beautiful face yet all he sees is a pile of dry bones.

“Stop! Hands in the fucking air, Walker!”

‘Ah, took them long enough.’

Standing between the carpeted walls of the narrow corridor, only mere inches from the silver doors, August slowly spreads his long fingers and lifts his hands in the air. His keen ear catches at least three firearms as the guards cock their guns at his direction, panting with fright.

“Turn around so we can see you, piece of shit!!!” A presumingly young hero barks behind him.

“Someone call Director Sloane down here right now, she’s not going to believe it!!!”

The soft rumbling in the lobby grows into impending thunder. A flash of pale purple lightning floods the lit vicinity for a split second, echoing the small grin that spreads across August’s beaming face.

“Oh, I don’t think so, son,” he speaks serenely, almost like a tender fatherly coo. Not bothering to turn, he tilts his head up and inhales sharply.

“Go.”

Sharp gasps of shock and terror reverberate between the walls of the fortress as sudden darkness veils the main hall. The smell of their fear is almost as delightful as the strong smoky scent of gunpowder. Like shooting stars, the rapid gunfire pierces through the night. Cries, incoherent screams, and panicked gasps make for a beautiful concert, so much that he wishes he could stay, but he has a girl to rescue.

‘If she’s still alive…’

Swallowing the bitter bile, he enters an elevator and presses the button for the basement level. He watches the flickering beams of light as his men continue to execute the remaining agents before the doors shut in.

Drawing out his handgun and relieving the safety, he leans against the shuddering metal and stares at the neon red number while reminiscing on the day he met a pretty girl with an unpleasant smile.

“Too bad, I would have loved to see you again.”

“Well then, if our destinies were meant to be entwined, you will.”

The basement level seems completely abandoned and eerily silent. No wails nor cries carry on the chilly air.

His Ingvild is forbearing, she would never show her suffering. Would she?

Inching toward the interrogation cell, his hand runs across the naked concrete walls, sensing the coarse texture against the pads of his fingers. Opaline droplets of sweat bead his forehead and his lungs sink with the effort.

Muffled voices perk his ears the closer he gets: two men, no woman. No sounds of violence, no signs of her in there whatsoever.

‘Angel, are you being brave for me?’

Arriving at the door, he takes a deep breath and gingerly pushes the handle. The pungent scent of salt and iron pervades his nostrils as he steps a foot into the shower of blinding white light. The brightness hurts and for a moment it feels as everything before him fades.

Until his sight sharpens and he notices the two shadowy figures standing with their backs facing him. They look like vultures preying upon a corpse.

Her corpse.

‘No! Change this! Make this right!’

Wings of cherry-dark blood spread from her snow-pale body. Motionless, his girl lies with her top huddled around her chest to expose her bleeding gut.

‘You are too late…’

Pure, undistilled rage burns within August’s throat, so ferocious it stings in his eyes, making his entire body tremble. He lifts his hand and fires the gun hastily, shooting both men in the back of their heads before they even get the chance to turn and look at the man who executed them.

“Ingvild!” August pants, rushing and falling to his knees before her.

“Angel?” He presses one hand to her gut, trying to pressure her gushing wounds while his fingers etch around her nape to pull her closer to his face. Blood, still sticky and warm, tarnishes his clean outfit while he cradles her in his arms.

“Please don’t do this to me…” He whispers, shifting his hand to caress her bruised face, recalling the last time she was dead in his arms.

The world kept spinning on its axis when she died back at the lake. So why does it feel like right now it stopped in its place?

Pressing her to his chest, August shuts his eyes and shudders with fury. All emotions come to life, and every one of them hurt.

“You are not here…”

A deep quivering sigh of relief soars from his throat, mouth cracking into a smile at the sounds of her hoarse whisper and delicate moans. Blinking faintly, Ingvild half-opens her eyes and stares at him through heavy lids.

“I am here,” he whispers, brushing away the sticky strands of hair from her face and squeezes her cheek beneath his thumb, “I came to take you, we have to go.”

Shifting his arms, he tries to lift her up, but his petite woman is suddenly made of the heaviest rocks; her stiff muscles protest in his grip, making it impossible for him to manoeuvre her out of fear she will bleed to death.

“We were both at the garden,” she mumbles drowsily, licking her bloodied teeth before breaking into a maddened smile that quickly dies as she depletes her remaining strength. “I’m tired, I want to stay here and dream.”

“Ingvild, we don’t have time for this,” August warns with concern, noticing how her eyes roll back and her lashes flutter shut, “there’s a helicopter waiting for us on the roof. You have to get up, you have to survive this, you have to come with me! Please!”

Fat, oily tears roll down her temples, mingling with the blood and tangy sweat on her face. Opening her eyes again, she peers at her beautiful monster, recognising the familiar ocean and its eternal unrest.

Did he come here for her, or is it just a dream?

“Why?”

‘Tell her.’

Brow lifting and face softening, his hands clutch her tightly. He rocks her from side to side, holding her protectively. Ingvild senses the wrath that pours from his heart, the thundering beat throwing its fists against his ribcage as their bodies collide.

“You know why,” August suggests huskily, nearly begging, bargaining not to admit, not to say the words he was always so afraid of. But naively, her gaze pleas in return, the child-like innocence piercing a hole through his chest.

“Tell me,” she begs him.

‘She needs you to say it.’

“Because I need you.”

The words nearly crack on his tongue, his throat suddenly so dry it sears. He glances down at the fallen angel, sensing the most excruciating thirst, where the only way to stop it is by stealing several deep kisses from her lips.

“I need you by my side,” he murmurs above her lips between desperate, helpless kisses, hoping to breathe life into his weakened valkyrie, “stay with me, angel.”

An awkward stretch tugs at her cheeks, hurting as if someone slices them with a blade from side to side. For the first time in her life, true laughter crisps her face, followed by crystal-like tears that run down her sullen eyes.

“I love you, August.”

Every nerve in his body tingles with tendrils of light, reaching out deep within his gut and spreading throughout his tendons. For a moment, he feels divine, sanctified by the words of his angel, his woman, his by free will.

Offering her a brief smile, he captured her lips for one last stolen kiss. His thick moustache scratches at her tender flesh while a little hum plays on his tongue.

She tastes like blood and honey - the tarty flavour of victory.

“We have to go now, princess, I have to finish this.”

Gingerly rising to his feet, he hooks a hand below her knees and places the other against her bruised spine. Bloody footprints trail behind him as he carries her outside the white room, trying to make for their freedom.

Locked down in her office, Director Erica Sloane inhales and exhales by practice, brushing a hand through her sweat-slick hair while trying to call every backup unit. Bullets still rip through the air in every story; the sirens howl while red lights flicker from outside. She puts her hands around her ears, trying to shut the noises out, uncertain if the screams she is hearing are her people still being slaughtered, or her mind playing tricks.

Walker is many things: an idealist, a manipulative snake, a monster. But this is a side of him she never anticipated. There is no need to question his motives this time. She is smart enough to figure it out.

To risk so much, a man must feel deeply for a woman.

Her anxiety spikes as guilt seeps in when her phone suddenly rings.

“Director Sloane,” she pants against the receiver. Somehow, as she hears the deep, measured breath, she knows.

‘Walker.’

“Hello, Erica, did you miss me?”

Erica clenches her jaw and stares spitefully into nothing, “Hardly.”

She hears him scoff from the other line, her mind piecing together that horrible, pretentious grin of his. The bile climbs up her throat just from the vision.

“We don’t have much time, but I just wanted to thank you.” August pauses, sighing with the bliss of a madman at her ear, “You see, if not for Lacey, if not for you kicking me to the curb the way you did - I would have never become what I was meant to be. And you sent me an angel to light my way…”

“You’ve manipulated her.”

“No, you did,” August interrupts calmly, “I set her free. I will set them all free and unite them.”

The anger simmers in her gut to the point of nausea. She holds her breath, counts to ten and tries to gather her thoughts. ‘August wants a bargain,’ she thinks, but for a reason, it feels like he already won.

“Can you come and look out of the window for me, please?” He asks politely.

Turning her head at the window, she narrows her eyes and bites her plump lips with hesitation.

“If I had a sniper on you, you’d be dead 5 minutes ago,” he assures her.

She gets up from her office chair slowly, her fingers reaching to uncover the blinds. The storm weakened, yet heavy clouds still loom from above like a noxious mist. She seeks for August on the horizon, listening carefully to the sounds on the line. She realises they are coming from above. Her sharp eyes detect the helicopter: far, yet close enough to see his shit-eating grin and that hand that waves at her.

He has the girl with him. Who knew a monster could care.

“You know, you are the only woman in the CIA I haven’t fucked.” He provokes and then hangs up suddenly.

Erica watches as the helicopter takes off, her eyes widening with fear as the notion of her own demise resonates like a stinging slap.

The blast takes her along with the entire building within a split second.

Standing on the cliff by the edge of the valley, August stares down at the tranquil scar that swerves amidst lush, fertile mountains. The crystalline Indus river lies before his eyes, its sweet water so clear that the sky mirrors upon the brim.

It’s not every day when a simple man becomes a god.

The melancholic beauty of nature makes his fingers tighten around the detonator, thumb ghosting over the button as he allows himself a couple of last seconds to inhale the air of the old world.

Oh, how many will die for this god to receive his halo.

‘I wish you were here, my Ingvild…’ August muses with anguish, feeling an awkward jab at the spot where his heart should have been.

A sudden rumbling noise of a helicopter makes his gut weave.

‘That better not be Ethan fucking Hunt! I should have thrown him off the cliff in Norway!’

Alarmed yet stoic as ever, he draws his gun, aiming it at the aircraft inching its way to land on the other side of the flat terrain. The last thing he needs right now is someone meddling with his affairs, but it quickly becomes clear to him that if someone wanted a monster like him dead, they would have sniped him from the air before he could even see them coming.

‘Did you forget the woman is nothing but a valkyrie?’

“What are you doing here?” He calls out at Ingvild and frowns at the pilot, abruptly struck with anger. “I specifically asked to make sure she stays rested!”

The pilot shrugs while Ingvild makes her way toward August with mild effort. Dark circles rest beneath her eyes, yet she is still so very beautiful to him, especially when she frowns.

“She was very persuasive and horrendously stubborn,” the pilot retorts.

“Yeah, tell me about it,” August mutters to himself and watches the little battered woman making every attempt to remain stoic as she steps closer. A shadow of a malicious grin creeps on her frosty eyes.

Once upon a time, she promised him she will always find him. She has no intention of breaking that promise.

“Did you think I’ll let you do this without me, August Walker?” She sulks at him as she finally moves to stand in front of him. Every nerve in her body is inflamed with pain, yet the thought of not being here at the birth of the new world brings greater agony than imagined.

Something she compares to missing out on the birth of a child.

“We are in this together now, this is our cause, our better world. You don’t get to leave me behind.”

Her hand reaches for his wrist, thumb pressing to feel his quickening pulse. Wonder paints his eyes and his lips gape softly. He promised himself Lacey will never cross his thoughts again; yet he can’t help but think about that night in his study and the pain of betrayal.

‘How is she even real?’

Gently peeling her fingers off his wrist, he looks at the detonator. He then takes her hand in his, placing the device in her slender grasp.

“Forgive me, my darling. You’re right,” he apologises and turns her over to view the horizon. A shiver surges through her as she senses the weight in her palm when August moves to stand behind her, resting his chin on the top of her head.

“We do this together.”

Pesky little honeysuckles flutter within her chest as his arms wrap around her carefully. One of his hands holds hers, raising it up slightly to position the device in front of her chest.

“Do it angel, set them free.”

Taking a deep breath, Ingvild slides her fingertip over the red button. Scattered images of her life briefly flash through her mind, ending with the single moment where their gazes first met that day in Bergen.

Bright heavenly light cleanses the sky and loud thunder rips through the earth. Standing on the trembling ground, August and Ingvild stare into the distance while slowly turning to face each other. They hold their hands together, both gaping with awe as rich golden hues pour into the sky.

Enamoured, and lost within one another’s beauty, they share a long, lingering kiss.

Epilogue.

Sharp and heavy, the blade split the wood in half as if it was made out of soft butter. Resting the blunt side of the leaden axe over his shoulder, he pauses and observes the pile of firewood on the ground. His lips move in silence as he counts before crouching down to pick up another log and place it on the stump.

Strong shades of pink and orange spread between the clouds, kissed by the drowsy sun as it makes its way to slumber beneath the earth. It’s been 8 months since the coming of their new world. Even though there is still work to be done, August decided a hideout was necessary to let her mend her wings.

“Loki!”

Ingvild rushes into the green field with a wide, toothy smile. Feral rivers of chestnut-brown reach the small of her back, floating behind her as she runs around giggling.

‘That smile, like honey. So pure, so real.’

Playful barks answer her call, and a German Shepherd puppy appears from across the green hill, jumping over one of the logs ecstatically and wags its tail.

“Careful or I’ll cook him for dinner,” August mutters and points the axe at Loki’s direction. The pup tilts its head at him and barks with playful rage, growling and baring its needle-like teeth.

Ingvild pauses and gives August an icy stare before grabbing the large puppy and holding him to her chest, “You’re a shitty liar August Walker, you love him. Always sneaking him bacon when you think I'm not looking and snuggling him in your sleep.”

August shrugs, brushing away her comment before sticking the axe into the tree stump. “Get inside, time for dinner.” A small grin stretches on his lips as he sees her walking away, kissing the puppy on his wet little nose.

The scent of cedarwood burning at the mantle and brewed coffee welcomes her home as she enters the cabin, immediately filling her chest with mellowness. She allows Loki down on the ground before walking into their cosy bedroom where she removes her trousers and remains in an oversized sweater and black thigh-high stockings that August gifted her after they left Kashmir.

When she returns to the living room, August is sitting at the study with his laptop open. A small wrinkle lines his forehead while he runs two fingers over his moustache. A map and coordinates are visible on the screen, along with a messaging platform which she only assumes is a conversation with one of the apostles.

Loki lies guarding at his feet.

“Come here, princess,” August calls, reaching out his arm toward her. “I have something to show you.”

Sneaking toward him like a large feline, Ingvild takes his hand and lets him guide her to his lap. Her legs fall to each side of his thighs, and August rests his chin at the small crook of her neck where it always belonged.

“What are you looking for?” She asks, casually pulling the sleeve over her wrist to scratch at a peeling hammer tattoo gracing her skin.

“Don’t touch it, let it heal.” August answers and takes her hand in his, entwining their fingers together tightly. An illustration of an angel wing decorates the same spot on his arm. As she glances at the way the black ink is embedded into his flesh, she can’t help but smile and ever so slightly grind herself on the semi-rigid bulge beneath her ass.

August growls against her neck, grazing his stubbles over her supple skin before reaching a hand to unzip his tracking trousers and pull out his swelling manhood. After a soft scuffle of her panties, he lifts her hips and slides himself fully within her wet, angelic cove.

“August…” She sighs, fluttering her eyes shut for a split second, embracing both pain and pleasure. When August fills her, she is ethereal, as if a piece that was missing all her life has finally made it back home.

“You always look so beautiful with me inside you,” he murmurs against her neck, planting bristly kisses down her jawline before returning his glare forward. Ingvild only moves slightly above him, swaying slow and smooth on his thick, throbbing girth and squeezing him tight between her walls to relish in their bond.

“I have a present for you.” He opens a tab on his browser while his fingers toy with her clit with surprising tenderness.

“What is it?” She moans as he presses down on her sensitive pearl.

“I found Liam,” he explains, a twinge of pride and a spit of revenge hanging on his baritone. He growls slightly as her cunt clenches around him by his words. “He’s hiding out in Sao Paulo. I plan to bring you his head.”

Sucking on her bottom lip, she grinds a little harder, feeling August deep in her gut. The temptation to ride him hard and rough is too great, but this sweet slow torture always brings her to a higher ground of ecstasy when they finally fuck.

“Can it wait, my beautiful monster?” She asks sweetly, reaching her talons to clutch his thigh as he pushes further in and bottoms out inside her with a grunt. “I’d like to stay here for a while and be your angel for a little bit longer.”

August lifts his cerulean gaze back to Ingvild, the clear sky in his deep irises slightly darken as he observes the serene look on her face. His hand rises to cup her chin and turn her head to the side to meet his possessive lips. He cages her mouth with his, devouring her with the lust of a hungry man.

“You will always be mine and mine alone Ingvild,” he promises as he ends the kiss with a nibble on her chin. Ingvild licks his saliva off her mouth and stares back at him with the oxymoronic union of innocence and sinister urge before she leans back and continues to look at his plans.

‘Who is she to you?’

‘She is my queen, and I am the king of hell.’

_______________________________

Additional Notes: Song lyrics by Elvis Presely - Angel. Additional Inspiration by Nine Inchs Nails - We’re in this together.

Disclaimer: I own no rights to Mission Impossible’s franchise or August Walker.

#henry cavill #august walker #august walker x ofc #august walker fanfiction #henry cavill fanfiction #the way to hell #henrycavill

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morkofday · 2 years

Note

For the character ask game: Xiao Hua!

ok wow am sorry i am super late with this!! i really reblogged that ask game at a bad time ;; but i just wanted to do it nonetheless. here i am tho!! so let's go

Favourite thing about them:

i think it's his competence which he's very proud of. he's built himself up since he was a kid and yes, i am sad about that too, but he is also just doing So Well by himself. he can take on anyone, can survive from anything, can outsmart even god (and i will bet on that). he got shitty cards when he was born but he made the best out of them so who's the real winner here

Least favourite thing about them:

how he keeps pushing xiuxiu aside and hiding things from her. and i know he thinks it's for her own good blah blah blah but Let Her Be There With You. she can take it, she's a badass too and she deserves to know things the same way you and wu xie do. she's not some fragile girl you need to put in a golden cage, she will kick your ass any day

Favourite line:

i cannot remember the exact line but i did like the intensity with which he wished to help wu xie in tlt2.2 (and that was the only good thing about him there lol). another one would be him in ultimate note getting angry about the wu sanxing/xie lianhuan stuff and saying to hei xiazi that he wishes to know bc he wishes to protect ppl and if he doesn't know the enemy then how is he supposed to protect anyone (aka i love it when he gets heated)

BrOTP:

wu xie, xiuxiu, pangzi (especially in sand sea bc am obsessed with their spa bath dates lol), possibly all of the kids hxz keeps bringing home from his trips

OTP:

heihua. i never really gave much thought to them before ultimate note barged in with its heihua agenda but i do remember loving them even in reboot when xiao hua saves chuchu(?) for hxz and gets all cocky about it (qiao zhenyu might have seven seconds of screen time but he uses it spectacularly) and in tlt2 where hxz just blatantly flirts with xiao hua over a dead guy in a bus (romance is not dead guys!!). i honestly thought those two were fucking only judging by that couple of seconds of eye contact. tlt2 xiao hua was a breed of his own damn, no wonder he fits with someone as unhinged as hxz (also gosh the one "hua'er-ye" hxz says in sand sea, absolutely obsessed with that, owes my whole ass)

NOTP:

xiuxiu tbh. i can only see them as friends or chosen siblings. i have enjoyed a couple of xia hua/hxz/xiuxiu ot3 fics tho

Random headcanon:

wu xie was xiao hua's gay awakening. a pretty boy with puppy eyes telling tiny xiao hua he is very pretty and then trying to kiss him at a party was all he needed to realize that it was what he wanted from life. he didn't have a word for it for a while and he knew that wu xie didn't realize anything but well, wu xie took his time to figure out things while xiao hua made it his mission to always know. so he realized quite soon and it didn't come as a surprise to him when wu xie ended up with a guy in the end

Unpopular opinion:

uuuhh idk really? i guess the closest i have is that tlt2 xiao hua slapped but tlt2.2 did not. am sad we have that excuse of a season to ruin everything hhhh

Favourite picture of them:

a carefree xiao hua goofing around with his soon to be boyfriend hxz, slightly insane bc of the heat, a bit messed up but in a sexy way ♥

also i would add here the fighting scene in the train from sand sea but i am too lazy to go seek for it so just pretend that it's here and you are getting stared down by a very pissed but cool looking zhang yixing in a black suit

thank you so much for this dear khol ♥ i hope you are having a lovely day!

#dmbj #xiao hua #heihua #lol i feel like my thoughts on him just #don't capture my love at all #i love this boy so much #all of his bitchiness and sharpness and anger #all of his fragility buried underneath #all of his trauma and loss of trust on ppl and care for those he still has

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nightswithkookmin · 3 years

Note

With the grammy bomb im more than certain that there is a strain between jikook. They do interact but in a way that is so aloof. Their habitual gravitating towards one another doesnt happen anymore. And im talking about all the recent stuff from october onwards. Jk purposefully rear towards other members and i find jimin to be only open towards namjoon. All of his other interactions on cam are to make sure that everything is fine between him and others. And jk purposefully ignores or avoids jimin and doesnt have that unrestrainable affection towards him anymore. I say all this as a longtime jikook supporter. Honestly even if they had their 'fighting' periods i have never seen jk this dismissive. At least jimin isnt as affected as before. I dont understand how no supporter is admitting the obvious distance of jk.

Why are you being mean to me though😭

Please read my blogs. I think I have talked about this topic several times now.

May be I spoke 'too soon' before the loud moments that make these things obvious to most but still, I've addressed it nonetheless.

I feel if I respond to this, I'd just be repeating myself over and over at this point and frankly it gets boring for the people that read me- I think. Lol. I mean, once I start I never shut up. Lmho. So sorry in advance.

I agree with everything you've said, as well as all the observations you've made. I'm with you on it. Except, you made no definitive conclusions I could agree on, rebut, or share an opinion on. There is a strain on their relationship..... therefore? Lol.

I don't mean this in a rude way. I just don't think it's enough to point that out without drawing conclusions- unless you are simply taking notes of those moments? Or are you concluding that the strain is a sign Jikook are fighting, having problems or that they have broken up?

Not every tension between Jikook is a bad thing if you ask me or even as a result of them having issues in their relationship. This is something I keep regurgitating in my blogs. Not to say they don't have issues, they do. Hell, I get dragged by my roots on these streets for saying they fight, or even break up sometimes like any real couple would. They are real and they have real couple's problems sometimes too like any regular joe.

I'm glad you pointed out though, that Jimin doesn't seem as affected by JK's 'dismissive' attitude as before. Shouldn't that tell you that is a sign there is nothing wrong with their relationship this time around? Jikook is not one sided. JK isn't the only party to their relationship, neither is Jimin. They have an equal and sometimes opposite reaction to each other. One person's attitude or change in attitude tends to produce a ripple effect on the other. In my opinion.

If JK were to be 'dismissive' at all, it would emotionally and physically impact Jimin and he would have a reaction to it like he did in run 106. Compared to this, he didn't seem at all affected by JK's 'attitude' just as you've pointed out.

As I said a while ago, I honestly don't think or believe they are fighting or that they are broken up either- not to me anyway. Lol. I mean you could still pretty much see the intimacy between them in that footage. Jikook don't need to engage in skinship or overt and loud interactions to show they are intimate. And most times their overt and loud skinship and interactions are devoid of intimacy. That's the thing about intimacy, you can't fake it or hide it.

Jimin turning towards JK in his fit of excitement is a sign of intimacy between them regardless of whether he actually hugged JK or not. Then later on the couch, you could see him yearning for JK.

There were three people in that room- may be more if you count staff and yet JK was the only one Jimin seemed to want an answer from.

He was the one Jimin was emotionally inclined towards. The one who's comfort and affection he sought after- bless his heart, he hit his head on some solid rock knees and everything trying to pursue his need for physical closeness and affection from JK. If they were broken up or fighting, he wouldn't go to JK for his emotional needs.

He could try and 'interact' with JK, do the fanservice bit with him but he wouldn't go to him with his emotional needs- that would be inappropriate and unfair to JK. Jimin is an emotionally intelligent guy and he has a lot of thoughts and consideration for people's feelings and he is well aware of his limits and just how much he can push or get away with.

And I cite his Log with JK, where he announced he had started developing feelings for JK and then turned to JK to ask if he was ok with him saying that much on camera.

Thus, if he is emotionally 'gravitating' towards JK then it's indication there is a level of intimacy and a mutual understanding between them that JK fulfills an emotional need and ought to fulfill that emotional need for him.

And yes, I agree. Him hesitating when he wanted to hug JK is a sign there is something stressing their dynamics which is something I pointed out when that Grammy reaction video first came out. I knew something was stressing their dynamic but I couldn't figure out what because it was a very short video with not much going on in there.

The behind the scenes however, chilee. Lol.

I mean if you consider the fact JK went from moving a distance to console Jimin when he was crying on stage during the October ON:E concert, and you look at all the moments we've had from their overt flirting in 2021 season's greetings, the sexual innuendos in the BE behind scenes video, JK sniffing Jimin's hair in the Be unboxing video to that moment on the couch when Jimin hit his head on JK's knees- that shit look like it hurt. Damn. JK what is your knees made of! Lmho.

I am uncomfortable discussing a Jikook era or phase when it's on going on. I like to simply take note of certain moments and discuss them in post by reconstructing the timeline to place content in its rightful timeframe.

I can only share with you my working theory on such moments and for the most part, like I said previously I feel Jikook- especially JK is having issues with the company. Perhaps because the company stumbled on something they weren't supposed to see.

As for Jikook's personal development, I think we all saw this development coming, didn't we? After JM's birthday fiasco? I think I hypothesized at the time that whoever was in the 'wrong' in that situation would come swinging hard on their Jikook agenda in the aftermath. And with that whole GCF Tokyo reference, signing his name to JK's name at the pop up, the stealing looks at JK during interviews, checking him out left right left, trying to make Jk 'jealous' with RM at the Be press con red carpet, it's not hard to figure out who did what in that birthday situation.

I plan on writing a blog on this very topic, because I've received quite a few Asks about my thoughts on JK outing Jimin, military service and others that I find intriguing and want to discuss but I also want to discuss Vminkook dynamics, Jikook boundaries and I don't know which one to get into first. When I'm torn between options I end up not making a choice at all. Lol.

All I can say in regards to Jikook and their on going 'situation' is that- I love it. Lol. I love their dynamics, I love where they are at in their love journey, I love where they are heading. Jikook is just beautiful in every sense of the word.

I love what JK is doing. I love where he has gotten my bias to- which is confronting himself and figuring out what he wants from their relationship. Because, honestly you can't have your cake and eat it. It just doesn't work that way.

What you are seeing is just JK asserting himself against Jimin I'm afraid. It's the push and pull thingy all over again.

I keep talking about 'the boy in love with Jungkook' being a facade and persona Jimin hides behind to love JK and most people don't understand.

JK's persona is not the boy in love with Jimin. It's the boy cold and shy who rejects Jimin- well at least that was the persona he had in their early dynamics around debut.

He has since shed that persona and the bold, fearless, assertive JK we see on the screens is him choosing to unapologetically express his love and feelings for Jimin. And jimin enjoys that.

But you take a look at Jimin, and you don't see that drastic change in his persona or the way he expresses himself with JK- I mean let's call a spade a spade.

Do I think Jimin loves JK? Absolutely. Do I think he is being authentic in the way that he expresses those feelings to JK on camera? Only to an extent.

It's obvious who Jimin is to JK or even the way he expresses himself and his love for JK is slightly different off camera than the persona we see on our screens. For one, clearly JK is not used to seeing Jimin prioritize others over him or be overly affectionate with others besides him. I mean it's been seven years. Ten, if you count the periods before. You'd think JK would get used to JM doing skinship with others or showing affection for the others especially since they've lived together over half of the time and yet here we are, frying pans away from the apocalypse whenever any member breaths near Jimin. Damn JK. Lmho.

Do I think his persona is slightly exaggerated? Yes. But I also think JM downplays his love for Jk with his 'Mr I'm available' personality, his Kumbaya attitude, and his I'm just a nice guy on the block character, which often leads to people questioning whether or not he treats JK different from the group. Don't get me wrong JK does this too.

Jimin loves JK. But at this point the question is is he expressing that love in the way that meets JK's emotional needs? Is he allowing JK to love him and express the love he feels for him in the way that makes him happy?

I think that's what the birthday fiasco is all about.

If you don't want JK openly showing and expressing his love for you in a way that he wants to and in a way that holds meaning to him and makes him feel fulfilled as well in the relationship then what is the point of him holding on to the glass closet?

Two can play that game. Lol.

It's JK's needs above the groups and I feel he is putting it right up there next to JM's needs because they are both valid.

You should have seen JK's face when Jimin decided tell the truth about his location on September 1st in that BB press interview.

I remember pointing out that when JM started that narration with the first person pronoun he was going for a well curated narrative perhaps one the group had agreed on prior to avoid confirming his location on the JK's birthday like they had tried to do during the VLive but dropped that and went with the honest truth the moment he started talking about being with Jk and using 'we' instead of 'I' in his speech.

I'm glad the interviewer from his Weverse magazine interview confirmed and pointed out this tell or habit of Jimin when he speaks,

"When he’s talking, Jimin often starts his sentence with phrases like, “I just,” “it just,” “they just …” But then he immediately goes on to open up about his feelings, always providing a sincere response."

At least now we know for sure he wasn't lying about his location- for all those who called him a liar.

Anywho, my point is it makes JK happy when Jimin expresses his love and feelings for him. But it also makes him happy when he is able to show the world just how much JM means to him.

He didn't get those tattoos for nothing. He didn't do the GCFs for nothing. He didn't nibble on his ear in front of thousands of people for nothing- had he posted for Jimin on his birthday, given how he hadn't done that for anyone in a year, it wouldn't have been for nothing either. In my opinion.

When I tell y'all Jimin is gonna wake up one day with JK's ring on his finger and he wouldn't know what hit him. Chilee. Lmho.

Listen, JK is in love LOVE with Jimin. It's my opinion and I'm gonna treat it as fact because I believe it- if you disagree keep it to yourself. I don't wanna hear it. Lol.

That boy is in love with my bias. Ain't nobody gonna tell me nothing. Lol.

Seriously though, JK loves Jimin and he loves expressing those feelings for him. He goes overboard sometimes with it to the point it's borderline outing but we don't talk about that. Lol.

He's progressed through out the years from hiding his feelings for Jimin, whispering I love you's to JM when he thinks JM is alseep, slipping matching plasters onto his finger, all the way to Rosebowl.

If you ask me, he wants to be Jimin's equal in every sense of the word and as much as he loves to be at the recieving end of JM's affections, he enjoys being at the giving end.

And if JM has the cover of 'the boy in love with the Maknae' and it works perfectly for him not just as a persona but the perfect excuse for loving Jk then you gotta wonder what cover JK equally has for loving JM the way that he does. He has none. His every move is questioned by members, by staff, by fans- why do you film Jimin so much, why not put Tae in there for clicks, why are you constantly with Jimin and other invasive questions like that.

Jimin gets away with a lot of things than JK because of his personality and his persona. People would question the things JK does most of the time while dismissing the things Jimin does as either fanservice or as flowing from his personality. Whereas JK cannot get away with those same things.

We paint JK as Jeonlous and possessive but we forget most times he acts that way so Jimin doesn't have to. Jimin has said he doesn't share his friends and yet somehow we think he is ok with sharing his boyfriend with 5 other members or those 5 members with his boyfriend- this is code, let it sink in.

There is a lot of boundaries he instills there and it's equally an expression of possessiveness. Yet it's so subtle you might not even notice.

Jk makes Jimin look cool. He takes the fall so Jimin doesn't have to. When JK takes a step back that's when you see how whipped JM is- the neediness, the clinginess- PJMs give me a break. *rolling my eyes. It needs to be said. I love Jimin too but shit, it is what is. Lol.

I think it's gonna take a while for Jk to open back up to Jimin, to get in the space where he feels safe expressing himself with Jimin the way that he was doing before Jimin's birthday.

It doesn't mean he hates Jimin or doesn't love him or doesn't want him or doesn't care. But I think Jimin needs to step up to show he is on the same page as JK because JK is all about reciprocity. He ain't about to do the one sided unrequited nonsense. Lol.

Honestly all this is part of Jikook's dynamics. This not the first time Jk's closed himself off. The last time he did it was because they had gone through a nasty breakup- I said what I said. In my opinion nonetheless. Lol.

In the aftermath of it, he was expressing similar behavior. In Suga's Birthday Vlive this year for example, when Jimin was clinging to him and had his hands on his leg he didn't take the bait either- man was it frustrating to watch. Lol. But you could see JM wanted that physical connection with him. Did you see his smug face when Jimin was all over him?

I think he is just going through a phase where he needs reassurance of Jimin's love. Jimin is a big guy and he knows his man best and I think he knows exactly what he needs to do to get him to come around. Lol.

I mean he flew all the way from Paris to see him on his birthday didn't he?

I think we have to leave them to it. Just observe them. I hate commenting on a phase like this especially when it's on going. I'd rather talk about it after it's ended and a new phase has begun for them.

Part of supporting Jikook is knowing when to give them privacy and room to just unfold their story and be human. They are a living breathing love story after all.

Jk isn't being distant. He is just not interacting with JM the way we are used to seeing him do. But I feel that's part Bighit asking them to cool off and part him just wanting reassurance from Jimin.

At this point, I want to ask why you want people to acknowledge JK is closed off? To what end? I don't think anyone is denying that they are going through this phase- well the Kumbaya tradshippers are but why do you want me to acknowledge this fact? I already pointed out that there is something stressfing their dynamics.

They have their own personal stuff going on but I don't think it's much of an issue and at the same time they seem to be having issues with their company- You have to take all of that into consideration to see how that affects their dynamics as well.

You have to be aware of the timeline too. Because content is not released in chronological order, it may seem like a rollercoaster ride when in actual sense all of this may have happened with a specific time frame.

When it comes to Jikook always assume they are much closer than you think. Jikook is fine, I believe. Just take mental notes of these things for posterity. I wouldn't be worried about them.

As usual, this has been my opinion. Don't take it too seriously. Keep supporting Jikook. Jikook is real.

Signed,

GOLDY

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caermis · 3 years

Text

❝ The Wish to Return...❞ Pt. 2

(A) Todoroki Shouto X (A)Bakugou Katsuki X Black!Reader X (A)Midoriya Izuku

✑Characters ⟹(Apex Alpha) Todoroki Shouto ⟹(Alpha)Bakugou Katsuki ⟹(Alpha)Midoriya Izuku

✑Warnings: ⟹Yandere ⟹NSFW ⟹Non-con ⟹Mental/Physiological abuse ⟹Sexism ⟹Gender Norms

✑Prompt/Summary: Three males are dropped off into the middle of nowhere, having no clue what's going on or how long they'll be away. Yet the sweet smell of a woman makes them want to stay.

✑Notes: ⟹No Quirk AU ⟹Y/C/S = Your certain scent ⟹Listen, don't @ me. I’m trying something new with the Omegaverse bear with me pls ⟹Aged up ⟹Some warnings don't apply to this part, but for future parts. The NSFW still applies to this part.

«Pt.1» «Pt.2»

Part 2: Disapperance

Gone.

Like you weren't even there to begin with.

But the sweet smell of Y/C/S still lingered in the air.

It was upsetting.

Whoever you are was just begging to be claimed, releasing such a sweet smell in the night alone with no Alpha or scent upon you. It could make one drool at how defenseless you were. The two men stare at where you once stood, inhaling all that they could before your scent was gone forever. They wanted you… no, needed you.

Upon walking back inside, Todoroki immediately headed to his room. Izuku in deep thought as he walked back to his room, only for soft speaking of the Beta and Omega in the kitchen, cleaning up from tonight's dinner. “It smells like Y/C/S or like fresh something. It’s always so potent.” Uraraka giggled happily as she looked up at her friend, his hands deep in dishwater.

“Maybe they're in the town. We can travel down and see.”

“I've already been, but they weren't there. Maybe they're from Haibazia!”

“We can't travel there, especially, with the overrun of Alphas.”

“So then the Festival! Everyone goes.” The two girls chatted to each other excitedly, Izuku pushing away from the back wall and walking to his bedroom. Eavesdropping on people wasn't something he'd like to do, but something he did often.

Haibazia, a much larger and more profitable town, but overrun with Alphas. Muttering all the possibilities, he stopped outside his room. ‘Taking two Alphas there won't do us any good.’ Mentally cursing his friends for their bad attitudes, made traveling much harder.

That night he couldn't sleep.

The soft voice whispering into his ear. Random hands running up his body. Like another body was pressed up against and the smell of Y/C/S filling his nose.

Bakugou was the second awake, finding Todoroki sitting at the dinner table rubbing a liquid against his neck. It wasn't odd to see Todoroki awake this early. He ran on his own internal clock, which resulted in him getting up before the sun rose. “I suggest you wear this too.” Bakugou snatched the bottle and read over it.

‘Scent Cancellationn.’

He glared and crossed his arms. “I don't need it.” Todoroki glanced at Bakugou, sending a shiver down his spine. Removing his hand over his scent gland, Bakugou slightly flinched at the movement. “I wasn't asking Katsuki. You can’t control yourself, and the last thing I need is for you to ruin my agenda.”

“Sorry.” Muttering an apology, he applied the scent cancellation, avoiding Todoroki’s stare. He hated himself for easily bending over to Todoroki’s will. If it came down to a physical fight, Bakugou was sure he could win… right? That’s what he was taught to believe. He was above the rest throughout all his school years and a few of his adult life until he met Todoroki Shouto for a modeling gig.

‘Japan’s Hottest Alpha.’

A rank 1 through 10. Bakugou had been sure he would easily gain number one place until Todoroki came along and took his spot. Bakugou was enraged and Todoroki wasn't one who flaunted his status as Apex Alpha, well not anymore. He held that above Bakugou’s head, like a sweet treat that Bakugou couldn't earn no matter how good he was in his career.

One could say that Bakugou was the reason Todoroki flaunted his power.

“Such a tense atmosphere.”

Kirishima tried to lighten the mood as he sat down at the table. “I see Midoriya isn’t awake.” He chuckled, earning a glare from Bakugou. “He has a difficult time waking up.” Midoriya being the type of person he is rather stays up the entire night and sleeps the entire day, until exactly 8:30 AM. No matter how long he stayed up the previous night, let him go to sleep at 8:00 AM, expecting him to be up and active at 8:30 AM.

“Todoroki, so you're an Apex Alpha?”

Rare. Most Alpha’s can go through their entire life without meeting an Apex Alpha. Nodded, he leaned back in his chair, straightening his spine. “My father was also one.” Kirishima’s eyes widen, asking Alpha a bunch of questions. How was your life growing up? Do you have a mate? Todoroki answered each one calmly, the fresh smell of the rain on wood getting stronger.

“Slow down would you. I'm sure an attractive guy like Todoroki has some pretty little Omega at home.” Denki walked in sitting behind his friend. He was an unclaimed Omega and not on the timid or shy side, due to being around Alphas all the time.

“I don’t. I don’t have any interest in finding one.” Bakugou sneered at his comment, knowing damn well that any Omega Todoroki found interest in, he would scare them away, looking damn well unapproachable. “What about you, Bakubro? Any special Omega at home?”

“Tch. I don't want one.” That was a lie. Due to how Bakugou acted, he attracted Omegas that were overly confident and overly rude. Not to say he didn't want a confident mate, but he didn't need one insulting him constantly as their form of flirting. One asshole in the relationship was enough, and that asshole was going to be him.

“What about Midoriya?”

“He’s far too involved in his work.” Todoroki and Bakugou spoke at the same time. Midoriya easily attracted partners, Omegas to Alphas. He had a soft personality and spoke fondly about the things he liked and grew more confident after their first years at UA. Which drew girls, boys, and in between towards him. Like moths to a flame.

“That’s not true. I have an Omega in mind.”

Izuku appeared with a soft grin. His eyes flickering over to Todoroki, before taking a seat beside Bakugou and Denki. A possessive growl leaves Todoroki’s mouth, leaving Izuku slightly unfazed. Another thing pissed off Bakugou.

Deku.

He was an Alpha, a regular Alpha, but could fake it. Appearing as Apex Alpha, when his scent wasn't involved. His acting was so convincing, it even at moments tricked Todoroki. “You can't act all possessive if you haven't even met Omega.”

“Did you both catch a whiff of Y/C/S? We smell them a lot during the week.”

“You know about Y/C/S.” Kirishima nodded. “No one knows their name, well... I think Momo might know.” Denki nodded and crossed his arms. “They come around here a lot, before disappearing. During the night, the entire driveway has the strongest smell of Y/C/S, but it’s gone in a matter of seconds, but I’ve actually seen her.”

Denki spoke smugly, earning a playful shove by Kirishima. “What do they look like?” Izuku asked next. “They look like no one from around here. H/C hair that was extremely curly and in an Afro I can't remember her face exactly, ‘cause we only spoke for a small amount of time, but they had warm brown skin. Their voice was soft, with a light accent when pronouncing a few words.”

“Most of the town knows about their existence. I guess only two people had an actual conversation with them. Speak of the devil.” An earthy smell flowed from outside, followed by a soft knock on the front door. “I got it!” Uraraka opened the front door with a smile.

“Momo!” Greeting the Alpha and allowing her inside. “Any treats for us.” Momo held up a large bag, following Uraraka into the kitchen. “Hopefully we can squeeze information outta Momo today.” Denki snickered, earning a slap on his arm.

Watching the black-haired woman descend the driveway, back to a wagon. Shouto watched in pure silence. Mentally cursing himself for getting distracted. His goal was to find a way home, so why was the appearance of this Omega distracting, There were two things that were going to happen if Todoroki found this Omega, either make them his and his alone or

rip your throat out for wasting his time.

“You sitting there pretending to be the good guy is pissing me off.” Kirishima and Denki both leaving to clean up the garden, leaving Izuku and Bakugou alone. “I'm not doing anything Kacchan.” Izuku leaned back and took another sip of his coffee, staring at Bakugou.

“You plan to fight Todoroki for that Omega. You'll lose.”

“As a person who acts so above everyone, you sure do scare easily.” Over the years, Midoriya graduating as Valedictorian, and going to a prestigious school earning his Masters in Psychology, and becoming one of the world's top researchers. He had become cocky and easily stood up to Kacchan, always seeming to be the peacekeeper.

“I’m not dumb. I know what I can and can’t beat. Todoroki is one of those things I can't beat. You'll lose.”

“I don't plan to fight.” He was smart, far too smart for his own good.

“Y/N.” A soft voice called out, drawing me in from my imagination. Looking over my shoulder, I straightened my back. “Yes, Sir.” Hearing the soft jingle of chains as I stood, walking towards the man.

“Seems your midnight walks have drawn attention to the townsfolk. What do you have to say?” His hand tilted my chin, his thumb running over my lips. “Forgive me. I was selfish.” He chuckled and placed a light kiss on my cheek, whispering against my skin.

“Learn to control yourself, or no one will want you.”

«Pt.1» «Pt.2»

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catboyithaqua · 3 years

Note

Ramuda and Doppo :0

OH MY BOYS LETS GO

Under a cut bc long

Ramuda Amemura

First impression

Baby boy baby. Very cute and sweet i love characters with ramudas aesthetic i tend to want to protect them, especially since its an aesthetic that i fall into myself and lo v e so kseidjsnfn YEAH this man is baby!!!

Impression now

Ohhh my god i love this man i love the way he is characterised he is so incredibly interesting as a character and tbh so realistic and honestly i adore him!!! I alarmingly see a lot of myself in him tbh, were incredibly similar and that isnt necessarily a good thing!! But still i love this man

Favorite moment

Oh man where tf do i BEGIN there are so many ngl, but mostly all of the moments where we see ramuda's humanity. There is still a sweetness left under the darkness, there is still a man who wants to cling onto everything he has - his emotion, his internal battles, his morality vs his desperate need to survive - oh fucking man so much.

Idea for a story

CAN WE FUCKING. HAVE RAMUDA TALK HIS SHIT OUT PLEASE can we just have others actively helping ramuda cAN THIS MAN PLEASE BE SHOWN THAT ITS NOT TOO LATE FOR HIM,,, PLEASE,, i just want ramuda to finally talk out everything and have people on his side. Please.

Unpopular opinion

This probs isnt unpopular by any means, but idk what else to put here so take this:

I dont really see it often discussed that yknow ramuda is an abuse victim. Like, its very clear that chuokhu uses and abuses him, and his life is constantly being hung over his head. No wonder the dude is doing anything he can in order to survive, he has no choice in that regard. Before i get told this in the notes yes i know this doesnt excuse the things hes done!!! But tbh i really think that like the trauma that ramuda is living with kinda needs to be addressed.

Favorite relationship

I am a huge multishipper and have found a way to ship ramuda w just about most people (that are adults and not in chuokhu lol) so this is pretty tough

Id say either fling poly or jkrm and these are my reasons lets go:

Fling poly: HAVE YOU S E E N THEM do i really need to say more here all three of them have such good chemistry together, theyre all clearly on the same wavelength and have such a wonderful dynamic,,, they found out about the clones and shit and they STILL chose to protect ramuda and to fight for him and with him and to stay by his side aND BLACK JOURNEY TOO I-- IM GONNA START SOBBING,,,

Jakuramu: this one is not based on canon too much i am sorry this is mostly hc but i am a huge sucker for enemies to lovers ok also, i feel like out of TDD these two would be the ones to reconcile. After all, jakurai is a rather empathetic man and he probably would def understand the situation that ramuda was in. After all this dude was an ex assassin, if ramuda was to tell him everything, im sure that he would be able to relate to yknow the time he took others' lives, people with families and friends that he killed because he was ordered to and most likely had no other choice. Of course, jakurai is well within his right to not forgive ramuda for what happened to yotsutsuji, but i feel like he would and would help him get out of the situation hes in,,, and also im soft for the TDD era ok like how jakurai WANTED TO KNOW THE REAL RAMUDA AND LIKE,,, even when ramuda snapped at him he was GLAD HE WANTSD TO KNOW HIM FUCK MAN,,, i just really like these two ok

Favorite headcanon

I have quite a lot of hcs! Here are a few and like some explanation as to why:

- hes trans - i personally believe this bc personally itd make sense. Ramuda has a very feminine appearance and build, those that are like typically common in asian countries. As well as that, he has his own autonomy unlike the other clones. It wouldnt surprise me if chuokhu orignally wanted to make a girl to keep the other divisions in check, but when he decided personally that he didnt want to be such a way, they said sure, more room for us to treat you as we want to. Hes got money, getting T wouldnt be that difficult for him either, so thats why his voice is. That way fiaudjsnfnd anyway i think it makes sense!! Idk--

- he has bpd - projection probably but the biggest inspiration for this headcanon is how he is emotionally. His swings are violent - he feels and expresses such a diverse range of emotions and its so easy for him to change his emotional disposition - whilst also mostly feeling totally empty. Relationship wise also, given how he was genuinely really close to jakurai and then completely splitting on him, h a t i n g him. Yeah that sounds like bpd to me chief i know i have it!!! Theres more ik there is but i cant pull up examples rn

- hes neurodivergent - again mostly projection honestly and like there isnt much of a canon basis in his behaviour, just little things, but i like to personally hc that aside from eating candy to stay alive duh, that he chooses lollipops bc they serve as a sort of stim?? Also ik that fashion is his job but hes also so so clearly passionate about it that its a special interest for him, and thats partially why he took it up as a job in the first place, so he could do something related to his special interest lol. Idk i know there isnt any basis for this but just let me have autistic ramuda iaiesjdnsnfn

Doppo Kanonzaka

First impression

Now THATS what i call a tired mf!!! This dude has yves saint laurent eyebags also he really reminds me of aggretsuko somehow??? Im really not sure what it is

Impression now

Yeah i was def right with the aggretsuko comparison siaishsnshfb BUT I LOVEEE HIM i love him very much and i think this man really needs a break and is also very relateable i love

Favorite moment

As much as i love fp i absolutely adore the badass koments that doppo has including when he absolutely fucking obliterated fling posse sksjxnxncn also!! All of his little moments with hifumi i genuinely enjoy their dynamic its so cute

Idea for a story

Honestly i wanna see him slowly recover from the teauma that he has experienced because this king absolutely deserves it, and also from a practical point of view itd make this mf s t r o n g e r i also just.... long to see doppo happy honestly he deserves to smile!!

Unpopular opinion

I dont really have an unpopular opinion but saving like leaving this blank: as much as i absolutely adore jakurai and hifumi and their music (jakurai is my fave out of every hypmic character and i WILL drive this home), to me doppo just has the best music. Like, i love tigridia and BLACK OR WHITE so fucking much its absolutely unreal and all of doppos verses in every song are juust so fucking good. As much as i listen to you are, therefore i am on repeat every day of my life doppos music is just the best ✨

Favorite relationship

Again i am a huge multishipping bitch and i habe a few ships with doppo but in ahll honesty my fave is very clear - i absolutely adore his dynamic with matenrou as a whole and especially hifumi - his relationship with hifumi is clearly so special and it really shows how strong their friendship is, and in a ship sense i find it to be realy cute bc theres such a clear need for each other and that even if they clearly come at odds sometimes, at the end of the days theyre still clearly so close and i just,,, god doppo reallt deserves someone like hifumi in his life and im so glad that he has it!!!!

Favorite headcanon

Honestly i dont really think i have too many for doppo but given his general demeanor and his attitude, i personally hc him as demi. Yeah i know that sexualities dont have like typical personalities and such but i feel like given his anxieties around new people and how he clearly only really sticks to those that hes very close with, it makes more sense for him to be demi than any other sexuality to be quite honest - and this is also just pushing my hifudo agenda aiqiauansnssn but yknow!!!!

#im sorry this took me so long thanks for the ask!!!#hypmic

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imnotwolverine · 4 years

Text

Ready, set, …

Henry Cavill x OC Lisa - multi-chapter fic

Author’s note: Set life has its quirks and challenges. A fluffy, smutty Henry fanfiction to get you through the week. Bedroom fun found at the end. Ps. I should start thinking of a name for this series, any good suggestions?

Word count: 5.832

Disclaimer: smut and fluff

---

This is part 3 of the Tea for Two story.

Find the masterlist here.

---

< Back to part 2

An early alarm clock went. 5 am. I heard Henry groan as he rubbed his eyes. ‘Fuck.’ He moped softly, pushing himself off the bed and silencing the alarm. I looked at his naked, muscular, slightly hairy form, grasping for clothes. Kal got up yawning and stretching in turn. The morning ritual. I looked at Henry sleepily. ‘Early shoot?’ I whispered. He rumbled. ‘They changed lines. I forgot that meant an early day.’ He sat on the edge of the bed, wiping some hair from my face. ‘Hello princess.’ He said softly. ‘Well, you go do your Witchy things then. I’ll see you soon.’ I rumbled. He smiled, bending over to kiss me. ‘And we might need some new condoms at your place…just in case.’ He nodded at the dusty pack of condoms that lay discarded on the night stand. I chuckled as he kissed me more deeply. Tongues fighting. He moved on top of me, his weight pressing me down. ‘Mmpff.’ He huffed in frustration. ‘Alright.’ He sighed and nodded while unwillingly getting up. ‘Time to go. Come on Kal. See you dear.’ He blew a kiss and left. Moments later I heard the door closing behind him softly.

The first few days flew by. It was less erratic at work. Much more hectic personally. Somehow press really got air of something happening. We saw tele lenses sticking out of bushes, the odd journalist jumping us when we were drinking tea outside of the warehouses in a short break. ’Mr. Cavill. Who’s this? Are you dating?’ The loud shrieky voice sounded in my neck. I had difficulty not showing utter disgust when a camera was pushed in our faces. ‘Good sir,’ Henry said, getting up, placing his hand on the journalists chest. ‘This is private property. I must ask you to leave and request permission to shoot at the Chamber of MM Media.’ ‘But are you dating?! Mr Cavill?!’ The journalist continued, while one of the security men came strolling in, grasping the man by his shirt and pulling him away. ‘How do you stay so calm?’ I grinned, taking my last sip of tea, watching Henry sitting back down. People around us didn’t even seem very impressed, already having continued with their activities. ‘It gets easier.’ He gave me a sweet smile, which truly was creepy when he was in full costume. ‘What’s the planning for the rest of your week?’ He asked, fetching his phone from his pocket. It was Wednesday. ‘Free Friday afternoon, shopping materials for Poland on Saturday, which we’ll probably discuss on Sunday, then free again on Monday.’ He scrolled through his agenda. I took the hint and grabbed my phone as well, moving it around on the table so he could see my schedule. He grinned, looking up at me. ‘Let me get to the wardrobe department and see if we can get you off the hook on Sunday. I want to take you out for a trip.’ I raised my eyebrow. “CAST CALL, RUN THROUGH IN 5, HALL 2.4..” He looked up, then quickly returned my phone. ‘Would you like that?’ ‘Yea. Sure.’ I said, not quite sure what trip meant in this case. I shrugged as he gave me a quick peck on the lips and rushed off to hall 2.

It sure was magical, how quickly he could fix such things. Within the hour, my manager dropped by to tell me I could take the Sunday off - which usually was out of the question. I looked at her in surprise. She shrugged. ‘Orders from above.’ I squinted my eyes in disbelief. Above? But there we go. It soon was Saturday and I was in the minivan with the department, getting back from a successful shopping trip. Everyone made sure to quickly move all materials to the shipping boxes, ready to go to Poland, snipping off little bits to use for the mood-boards. After that I walked to the hall where they were shooting the last few scenes. I sat down in a director’s chair and sipped on some green tea, looking at the hustle and bustle.

Anya plopped down in the chair next to me. ‘His kisses are different now.’ She said abruptly. I looked up, raising my eyebrows. She smiled an endearing smile, then studied me for a bit. ‘Had a good shoot day?’ I asked. She shrugged. ’Twas okey. Yours?’ ‘Got some pretty materials for your future dresses actually’ ‘Mmm! Cool. Hey, but about those kisses. I think he really, really likes you. He seems different..’ He cocked her pretty head, pouting in thought. ‘Really…’ I smiled, then looked at my cup of tea. ‘So are you joining him to the premiere?’ She asked in girlish curiosity. ‘The premiere? Oh, no. I’ll let you have the honours. Don’t want to have fans going wild over some casual girl on his arm.’ She squinted at me. ‘They first thought I was the worst choice EVER for Yennefer. Now they make fan porn of me. Fans are so weird.’ She shrugged giddily. ‘I’ll let them have the illusion of Hollywood for a moment longer.’ I winked. She laid her hand over mine. ‘He accidentally grunted your name when we shot a make out scene.’ We both snickered. ‘This conversation is so weird.’ I said, laughing at her. She shrugged. ‘Actors life.’

Not much later the last scene was cut and a flurry of set members once again flew out. Anya plopped out her chair, wrapping her arms around a tall man with full sleeve arm tattoos. She kissed him with childish excitement. Without looking back they walked out together, in full conversation. ‘Ready?’ I shot up in shock from his voice. He had sneaked up behind me and was standing there with his coat flung over his shoulder. He had already changed into his regular attire. ‘Ooph.’ I laughed. ‘You are quiet as a mouse.’ I wiggled out of the chair and smiled at him. He pecked me on the lips before holding out his arm, inviting me to take it. We walked out to his car as it was just getting dark. 8.30 pm. ‘Now for our trip. I’m invited by my horse riding trainer to a farm, just squeezing in a few hours in the saddle before Poland. I figured it’d be a nice outing.’ I looked at him. ‘Horse riding?’ ‘Like all fair knights do!’ He grinned. ‘Alright. Fair prince.’ I slithered. ‘Let’s fetch stuff at our houses, walk Kal, then drive there.’ ‘This evening still?’ ‘Yep, might as well get the drive over with. Can you drive?’ ‘Yea, want to switch?’ ‘No no. Just. Curious. Shift?’ ‘Of course. European remember?’ He snickered. ‘Americans ARE lazy.’

We had some quick food, fetched our things, walked Kal, then jumped into the car to drive north. It was deep in the night when we arrived. About 1-ish. And there was nothing around except for this romantically lit farm house with some barns. We jumped out and walked up to the house, some dogs greeting us with loud barks, tails wagging. A man came out in his night shift. ‘Ey ey. Easy boys…. Mr Cavill!’ A gruff, smoke-heavy voice sounded. ‘Mr. Games!’ The men greeted with loud pats on each others backs. ‘And ye brought a sweet thing with you.’ Henry moved aside, smiling at me. ‘Lisa. And careful. She can be feisty.’ Mr Games rumbled a loud laugh and hugged me tight. ’Welcome dear. Ai that wonderful smell about you. Honeysuckle?’ I looked at him in disbelief. ‘Actually yes. I don’t like perfume’s sold on the market so I wear..honeysuckle.’ ‘Such fine smell.’ He folded his arm around my back and guided us to the main house. ‘I got ye a nice little bed made. And ye know where everythin’ is. Make yourself at home. Me wife already hit the hay, so I’ll join ‘er if ye don’t mind.’ He chuckled with insinuating tone. ‘Of course.’ Henry said, winking. Mr Games prodded him playfully. ‘HA HA HA.’ He laughed a little too loudly, then nodded at me, before holding the door open for me. We walked inside. It was dimly lit. A wooden structured house with heavy beams, the smell of hay and horses protruding from its very core. The furniture was old english style. ‘Yer room is upstairs, hallway, far left. Bathroom right across. Sleep tight good folk.’ He whistled and his dogs eagerly followed him up the stairs, his short stubby legs making the stair steps creak heavily.

Henry yawned. ’Night cap?’ I looked at him. ‘Sure, why not. We’re off for 2 days, gods be blessed!’ I exclaimed. ‘Are you religious by the way? I’ve never asked.’ ‘Nope. You?’ ‘No, raised Christian, but not following.’ He pulled open some cabinets in the kitchen and pulled out two small brandy glasses and a bottle of strong liquor. ‘He makes his own, so, fair warning: it is strong.’ He put the filled glasses on the table. ‘Do you believe in a God?’ I asked. He sat down opposite of me, looking out at the dark fields outside. ‘I think it would be practical if there were a God. But never have I seen or heard him. So no, not a believer.’ We clinked our glasses. ‘And when did you learn to ride horses?’ ‘At my parents actually. We grew up on the Jersey Islands and our neighbours kept two ponies. Darling horses, but also so darn stubborn.’ He grinned. ‘Could you tell me about your sweetest memory of your youth, living there?’ I asked. He rolled around the drink in his glass, thinking. And so we talked for another hour or so. Eventually so tired, all we wanted to do was sleep.

It was around 10 when we woke up. And made love, as morning Henry so enjoys doing. I felt my innards burning from his pounding, laying on my back heaving heavily. ‘Goodness me.’ I laughed as he rolled over and supported his head, letting a finger travel over my body. He was panting slightly. I finally opened my eyes, seeing he was looking a bit pained. I reached out to him. ‘Hi.’ I said. ‘Hey.’ He returned, his eyes twitching between loving and regretful. I looked down at his glorious body, noticing something… missing. ‘C…ondom?’ His face broke in agony, his gaze looking at something on the bed table. ‘It broke.’ ‘Wow..you..’ I got up in shock, looking at rubber, then at him. ‘Do we need to get you a morning after pill?’ He said meekly. ‘Hopefully not, I am pretty steadfast with the pill.’ I looked at him in disbelief. He sighed, ashamed. ‘I’m so sorry.’ I let out a breath I was holding. ‘Oh I’m so glad I use the pill. Please tell me next time. Oh my..this could have gone wrong.’ He sat up, looking apologetically at me. ‘I’m so sorry.’ ‘It’s okey. I just..didn’t notice.’ I sighed, then looked at him lovingly. ‘It should be alright.’ I continued, cupping his cheek. He smiled weakly, then pulled me close. ‘Ohhh. I’m such a fool!’ He said melodramatically. I snickered as I pulled his heavy body on top of me, hugging intently.

The day was filled with horses. Saddling horses, walking with horses, riding horses, combing horses, haying horses, moving horses from field to field. Henry clearly got the knack for it, gently and without force leading the horses around. ‘It’s all in the hips and eye contact.’ He said, leading a mare ahead, with a few horses following. It was just the two of us, as Mr. Games was drying off some horses at the stables. The day was running late and food smells were flowing out of the kitchen. ‘Mares love good hips huh?’ I joked, earning a cocky smile from him. ‘Well all joking aside, my hips are …sore.’ I said, somewhat surprised by that. He laughed at me sweetly. ‘Then let us rest.’ He said. ‘I thought you’d never say it.’ I grinned with a mocking tone. He raised an eyebrow at me, smirking.

The days flew by and before we knew it we were driving back to the Hollywood Hills. The return of bright lights, stressed out honking cars and general mess that was the city, I couldn’t help but sigh. I loved my work, my friends, the closeness of everything you need, but there sure were downsides to living in the city. He squeezed my leg while he drove south to drop me off at home. Our goodbye was sweet and relaxed. It had been good to be with each other for longer then just a few minutes. The eraticness was gone and had made place for trust and comfort. We kissed a long while in front of my door, Kal waiting impatiently to go in like he usually would. But this time we really said goodbye at the door. I stood and watched while Henry made his way down the stairs, Kal following with wagging tail. Down the stairs he turned around to look up, waving at me one last time before disappearing. We were getting better at it, I smiled, walking inside of my dark apartment. I didn’t even bother turning on lights, just dropping my stuff, brushing my teeth and heading for bed. It would be another busy week. And, the last week here in the US, which made shooting all the more crazy.

—

I was exhausted by the time it was Saturday. I could sleep anywhere, anytime. And yet I had to pack my stuff for my flight tomorrow evening. It was only now I really started to miss Bib. Usually it would be a whole hustle to get my way too old cat in the plane, having to do all these health checks, her being completely paranoid for the rest of the day. No more of that. I plopped on my bed. It was 11.30pm. I opened my Whatsapp to check on any messages. No message from him yet. I sent him a kissing emoji, followed by a sleeping emoji. ‘Flying tomorrow. When do you get to Poland?’ I fell asleep and only woke up again when the alarm clock buzzed 8 hours later. I groaned. He had responded. ‘Sleep well dear. Probably arrive there on Wednesday evening if all goes well. Wish I could travel with you :) Safe travels and contact me when you arrived!’ Followed by a picture of all his stuff being packed. All the picture frames, dog toys, some workout gear, put into boxes. I snickered. I didn’t bring quite as much with me. Just clothes and a few books. I owned this home and kept all my valuables in a locked closet, then rented out the apartment to colleagues who worked here off and on as well. I had to miss my stuff for these months, but oh well.

We were flying. I was completely dazed, barely striking up conversation with colleagues flying with me. I was too darn tired and all I wanted was that day off after landing. If anything I realised full well I wouldn’t be able to keep up this lifestyle forever. It made good money, which I invested wisely just so in a few years I could settle down and pick a more quiet hobby-that-made-some-money and live off the earnings of my investments. Always better than what most colleagues were doing; blowing through the money like there was no tomorrow. Expensive cars, clothes, going out for dinner every single night and then complaining they couldn’t go to the dry cleaners multiple times a week. Silly folk. I watched a simple romcom, listened to some music, tried to sleep in the rather uncomfortable seat I was situated in (squeezed in between two sizeable ladies who were talking extremely loud and were sweating like whales). I couldn’t describe the happiness when the captain announced we were starting to land.

*Lapalice caste*

It was morning in Poland, the sky and buildings as grey as last we were here. The communist building style really didn’t do any good for this culture. Nevertheless, it was a relief when the crew’s bus arrived and we were transported to the countryside. We were starting the set build at a castle, an artistic 20th century interpretation, absolutely lovely. A small encampment had already been made with running water, hot showers and a large food area. This would do for the next month. Our manager immediately started with nudging us to come up with ideas for the brainstorming session tomorrow, but I, like everyone else, simply ignored her. ‘Tomorrow Lazz. Don’t want to have more of us burned out.’ One of the men said, tapping her on the shoulder. We were escorted to our quarters. Shamefully..it were small bunk beds. I rolled my eyes. Well, no privacy then. Trying to stay awake for a little while longer I walked around a bit and sent a selfie with the set in the background to Henry. ‘Smells medieval to me!’ I added. ‘Gonna switch to European SIM. Add my number: 316123456789.’ Also, being back in Europe, and having switched sim cards, I took the opportunity to give my mother a call. She answered after some waiting. Always a busy woman.

‘Dear! How are you? Oh such things I’ve heard! Are you sleeping well?’ She rattled in dutch. ‘Hi mom. I’m pretty good. Kind of jet-lagging. Just arrived in Poland. So, mostly trying to stay awake now haha. How are you guys?’ ‘So good! Oh, exciting news. We got permission to start rebuilding the back of the house. It’s gonna be so pretty. I’ll send you the drawings.’ ‘Cool! With the wooden porch?’ ‘Yes. Oh it’s going to be lovely. Hey but what did I hear..or read. Are you pregnant?’ ‘What? No mom. Who told you that?’ ‘Oh my sister, you know she loves following your work. She told me you were seen with this actor and he was touching your belly and all.’ ‘If I would be pregnant I’d surely not forget to tell you mom. No. No babies coming. But I am dating, yes.’ ‘Is he good to you? Or is it a she? That’s fine too.’ ‘It’s a guy. Actor yes. And he’s a darling.’ ‘Oh so maybe babies at some point then?’ ‘Mommm.’ ‘What?! I had babies by your age.’ ‘You’re insufferable at times mom. So how are grandma and pa?’ I diverted the conversation. ‘Not great, you should call them. They have moved to a senior house and they absolutely detest it. Poor folk.’ ‘Ay…’ We chatted for a while longer. It was good to speak to her again, her voice rattling happily through the phone. At times it’s hard to remember how important family is, until you reconnect.

I ended the call and saw some more messages coming in from Henry (seen as an unknown number, since I switched SIM card). A whole selfie diary of what he had been doing that day. Working out, walking the dog, some more firewood with a shrugging emoticon (definitely hinting at jerking off) and finally a selfie of him having lunch with some of the cast. I snickered. ‘Busy man! And miss you a lot :) Especially seeing the tiny, tiny bunkbeds they got us xD Goodbye privacy..’ I typed. He responded. ‘We’ll make up for that on Wednesday then.’ Wink. I smiled, then wondered if they had installed the trailers yet for the lead actors. I started strolling around the area, and sure enough the shiny aluminium trailers appeared at the far edge of the campsite.

The next few days was mostly just scouting the area for good shoot locations, collecting material and starting the build of the set for the first week. It was decidedly more relaxed then the previous weeks. To which I was glad. It also did wonders for the team spirit. Many nights we were huddled around campfires, drinking hot wine and making music. It sure felt like a small holiday. And I got to know my colleagues a whole lot better. We worked in a team of 15 for set design. 2 Of them were apparently going to get married in a month’s time, right after our crew was let off, 5 of them had gone to the same college, and most of them were utterly curious about my relationship with Henry. I kept it a bit under the wraps, but spoke honestly about how much fun we had. And how normal it felt. And yes, we were all official. ‘You are..so lucky. Urgh.. Why not me?’ One of my gay colleagues blurted out. We all snickered. ‘It’s the vagina I’d say..otherwise you surely would have had a shot.’ I winked. He warped his mouth in oo-ing shape. ‘Oh Hell! I’d let myself be rebuilt if that means I’d have a shot.’ We all belted out a loud laugh.

Wednesday came. The sun was starting to break through the grey clouds for the first time these days. How suitable, I thought, sipping my morning tea while looking over the hunting grounds that were being prepped for a scouting scene. More bushes, white biodegradable dye after which fake snow would be added. We were sitting around a large wooden board on two scaffolds, serving as huge meeting table. Materials for clothes were splayed out. I wasn’t really paying attention, since this part of the production would be running when I was already off-duty. ‘Hey, whatcha think, light or darker blue for him?’ One of the ladies woke me from my day dreaming. I stood up and looked at the scraps of fabric. ‘Darker. Besides the bias works better on this fabric.’ The lady smiled contently. ‘I told you.’ She said, looking at the other dressmaker who shrugged in slight annoyance. ‘Like she knows anything about cloth making.’ She shot me a dirty look. I shrugged in return, smiling. ‘Who knows!’ Which annoyed her even more. ‘It is indeed a better fabric to cut on bias though.’ The other woman retorted, nodding at me to acknowledge me. After they wrapped up their little meeting, the woman came up to me. ‘You sew?’ I looked up in confusion. ‘A bit. Made some costumes for fun before I got this job actually.’ ‘Good. And you helped buy they fabrics too right?’ ‘I was more a dumb force dragging along fabric rolls, if that counts as helping.’ She smirked. ‘Well silly questions maybe. But..Any chance we can borrow you for a few hours tomorrow and stand in for some fittings. Much better then that Polish girl they found. Can’t speak english, doesn’t understand fit..Urgh. And can’t have Ciri look like a mess.’ I raised my eyebrow, surprised by the request. ‘Uhmm..I’ll have to check my schedule. We’re doing a run-through around 12. And..and I’m not sure we share the same..build…Freya and I’ ‘That’ll be fine. Both small figure. We’ll do a further fit when she arrives - she got delayed…actresses…’ I shrugged, looking at my phone to check my schedule. ‘Alright.’

Not much later the main crew arrived in a large black bus. The first one getting out was Kal, who sprinted out like he hadn’t seen daylight in days. He sniffed and peed everywhere and greeted people with great excitement. The crew gladly petted him and started helping unpacking. Henry and Anya were in conversation when they got off the bus, joking around. Freya indeed wasn’t there. Hmm.. Then Henry noticed me and smiled an even broader smile. He walked up to me, carrying some of his luggage which he dropped to the muddy grass to give me a deep kiss. ‘Hi princess.’ ‘Hey you.’ I said with cheeky smile. He looked up to see what Kal was doing, now playing with one of the camera guys. He sniffled. ‘Good to be here. How are you?’ ‘Good actually. It’s been some lovely relaxed days, just building up, having campfires and the weather’s getting better too. How was your trip?’ ‘Decent. Some turbulence which got the ladies screaming.’ He rolled his eyes with amusement. I snickered. ‘But all went well…’ He fell quiet for a bit and looked at me. And I just returned his quiet stare, smiling. ‘Already found my trailer?’ ‘In the back, far right. A trailer with a view of the lake.’ I winked. ‘Best view in town.’ He smiled in return, folding an arm around me. The very weight making me have to shift my feet in the slippery grass. He stared out over the fields around him, looking at the crew walking around with set pieces, smiling proudly. I just took the moment to wrap my arm around his lower back, leaning into him.

‘Yea let’s get my stuff to the trailer and find something to eat. I’m starving.’ He said, his stomach rumbling. I snickered, diving away from underneath his arm and walking to the bus to grab some of the stuff I knew to be his. We walked up to his trailer, his PA already waiting there to hand him his key and schedule for the first week. ‘Argh..and back to dehydration nightmare again.’ He said, glancing over the schedule. We moved his stuff in, unpacked all his picture frames and put them on top of the floating kitchen cupboards and set up some dog food and water for Kal. He walked back to the door, pulling it closed. I could see his eyes darken with lust while he pinned me against the kitchen block. ‘No bunk bed here.’ He growled. ‘Mmm I have to do a run-through in 10. Later.’ I whispered in between his shower of kisses. ‘Mmpff.’ He cupped my jaw in his large hands. ‘I can’t wait.’ ‘I know.’ I snickered, giving him a quick peck on the cheek before moving to get back outside. He stopped me with one arm, grabbing me around the waist. He bit my neck playfully. ‘Rrr.’ He growled into my ear. I giggled, squirming in his arm. ‘Let me go!’ I puffed, pushing down his arm. He turned me around with great ease and looked at me, this time more sweetly, then smiled sheepishly. ‘Come look for me when you’re done.’ He said. I nodded, then pried myself out of his iron grip and made way for the set.

The camp fires were lit again and dinner was served. With the crew slowly growing in size it became more rowdy. I joined Henry and some stunt men around a fire, huddled against him while forking around in a plate of Chinese food. It was rather bland shamefully. The men were enthusiastically talking through some of the stunt work that had been planned. Burning building jumps, fighting with dogs, monster fights, the whole shebang. Henry was joining in with great excitement. He loved doing as much stunt work on his own as he could. A little boy’s dream of his. His arms flexed while he talked, his eyes gleaming. After dinner however, he soon lost out to his jet lag. He poked me out of my dreaming stare into the fire and whispered. ‘Join me?’ I nodded and smiled a tired smile. Without further ado we excused ourselves, I brushed my teeth and went to his trailer, Kal already sleeping on the floor, only his ears twirling up in curiosity.

Just moments after he turned the lock on the door I could feel his hands roam over my body. He pulled me flush against his chest, my back towards him as he sniffed my hair. ‘I missed this smell of you.’ He rumbled, lust trailing his voice. I sniffled, turning my head slightly so I could kiss him. ‘I’ve missed YOU.’ I whispered against his lips, a smile on my lips. His arms folded around me, squeezing me even closer as his head dipped down, his lips blazing a trail on my neck. ‘Very funny..Now..I would like to be patient, but…’ He swirled me around with a force I had not experienced of him yet. I barely had time to register what was happening when he swooped me up in his arms, needing just a few long strides to lay me on the bed at the back of the trailer. He quickly stripped off his clothes as I stared at him, my dazed head needing a good moment to take in what was happening while my gaze fell on his rushed striptease. I didn’t even think about undressing myself. He took my breath away as he had done a dozen times by now. That hair tumbling in unruly curls around his face, his flexing muscles, the slight smirk on his lips and that godly chest hair. By the time he looped his thumbs around the waistband of his boxers, he raised an eyebrow at me. ‘Undress.’ He simply commanded, his voice dark. I obliged gingerly, quickly wriggling myself out of my comfy outfit as I laughed at his impatience.

I was just about to unclasp my bra when he pushed me down on the bed, crawling on top of me. I gasped as one of his hands slipped around my throat (even though he was careful) and I immediately halted any further attempts to remove my underwear as his heavy body pushed me down, his lips meeting mine. Eager hands slipped down my panties, feeling how wet I already was for him. He rumbled a low chuckle as he reached his arm out towards a small drawer next to the bed, his eyes not leaving mine. I raised an eyebrow as he rumaged around in the drawer, finding what he was looking for: a condom. He kept his eyes trained on me as he ripped the packaging with his teeth, not looking away once. I felt myself get wetter by the second as I looked in his lust-laced eyes, hearing his ragged breath. He pumped his erection a few times before putting the condom on, his eyes finally trailing away. He looked down at his erection, now eagerly pressing against my hip. And he sure liked what he saw, because when he looked back up there was that all-familiar question in his eyes. I took a shallow breath, which was apparently enough of an answer as he pressed his lips against me more feverishly.

He was..impatient..to say the least. His lips bruised mine deliciously, making me moan and groan in response while his right hand moved aside my panties. He guided his erection to my folds, rubbing it generously against my core - earning another longing moan from me. Then he got up a bit, making eye contact once more. DO IT - I thought, but he waited, just tilting his head slightly. And so I wrapped my legs around his hip, pulling him inside of me. We both gasped, savouring the feeling of becoming one. He slumped forward a bit, leaning heavily on his arms as his head dunked down to bite the soft skin of my neck. Without breaking contact, he slowly pumped out, before pushing all the way back in. I groaned. He was so big. And hard. I scratched at his back as he started to slowly up his pace. ‘That smell.’ He rumbled, lowering it to a tone that sounded more like Geralt then Henry. I groaned and moaned as he started a frantic speed. ‘Oh gods.’ I moaned as his lips attacked my neck, jawline, cheek, forehead, eyelids. He did not leave one bit of skin untouched.

I felt he was getting closer to his release and tried to pry one of my hands in between us, to stimulate myself. He groaned, realising he had neglected my needs. I opened my eyes, seeing he gave me a pleading look before he pulled my arm away, pushing me over on my belly before pulling my hip up. My head still pressed to the mattress and my butt in the air, I felt a bit vulnerable. I tried to turn my head to see him, but he pushed my shoulder down. ‘Like that.’ He said darkly, and before I could protest he pushed back inside of me again. I groaned. He could reach even deeper in this position, hitting my cervix in a way I wasn’t sure I was enjoying fully. I wanted to sit up, change the position, but his strong arm kept pushing me down. He started to push into me again, something I wasn’t so very much enjoying. ‘Babe..’ I gasped, my voice laced with pain. He folded over me, pausing his thrusting as he finally touched my bud. I could feel his lips on the skin of my naked back. ‘That better?’ He asked, a touch concerned. I immediately felt that all familiar electricity coil up inside. I gasped again. He bent over further, involuntarily moving inside of me. I squealed it out as he hit an unfamiliar place inside of me, an orgasm bursting through me making my whole body shake. Was that my g-spot? I thought after some seconds. I had even forgotten about Henry’s heavy body pushing into me, only realising he was asking me if I was okay when the haze lifted. ‘Baby? Hey?’ He was holding himself still, his lips next to me ear. I finally managed to turn my head towards his face, a smile on my lips. ‘That was..’ I started..but couldn’t finish. I burst out into laughter. He nuzzled my cheek, finally understanding. A husky laugh rumbled through his chest. ‘Are you okay?’ He finally asked, his face more serious now. I nodded, closing my eyes and wiggling my hips, immediately feeling his erection hard inside me.

Staying folded over me like he was shielding me from the world, he started pulling and pushing into me. Again and again..and again. And boy. Did it feel good this time. His hand once more circled my nub while he played around with the angles of his thrusts. The higher he moved up my body, the more frantic were my shivers. I wasn’t even sure if it was just one very long second orgasm bursting through, or several. Not that I could even care anymore. I groaned, moaned and shivered while he pushed into me, his orgasm finally taking him over the edge as well. He groaned as his seed spilled inside of me, releasing the hand from my nub to steady himself. He took a few deep breaths, stilling himself, before gently pulling out. I flopped down on my belly, still shivering, while he rolled on his side. Our eyes met, a smirk on his lips. ‘I’ll remember that.’ He finally said as his hand travelled over my slightly shivering body. I sniffled, moving closer to kiss him. ‘Hi.’ I smiled, still dazed from my orgasms. ‘Hi.’ He responded, smiling a broad smile, pulling me even closer, folding his arms protectively around me. He nuzzled me, taking a calm breath. ‘How I missed you.’ I nodded in agreement, too spent to talk and instead just enjoying laying there in his arms until sleep overtook me. I had missed this indeed.

---

Part 4 >

#henry cavill #henry cavill smut #smut #fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic #poland #travel #setlife #fluff #teafortwo

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altaruwusmolboiz · 3 years

Text

Not a choice, not a sin

It’s more of the Altar Boyz fighting homophobia from Matthew’s POV. Mostly Matthew but the other Boyz are in it too.

“Mark, are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be? You’re the bruised one.”

I sighed and touched my right eye, black and blue. “I’m okay, Mark. I don’t regret a thing.”

I left the stage, somehow feeling stronger.

***

So, how did it all happen? Why did we have to stop the show early? Well, it was my fault.

Confession session is often my favorite part of the concerts. It was always so nice giving advice to people who need it. Telling them their sins are forgiven, or saying that what they’re confessing too isn’t a sin at all.

That night was the latter.

“Last confession of the night.” Matthew took out the last yellow slip of paper. “This confession is from Abigail.”

“Such a beautiful name, Abigail.” Juan stepped foward, looking around for someone who looked like an Abigail. “Very pretty. A name for a pretty girl.”

“Okay! Juan!” Abraham stopped him before he started insulting audience members (He does that a lot. He called one guy something in Spanish that no one could translate, but they knew wasn’t good).

“Dear Boyz, I came to this show today with a friend. We’ve been friends ever since kindergarten, when she gave me her pencil. Granted, that pencil was bloody and low quality.”

“Your friend gave you a bloody pencil?” Luke asked. “Yuck!”

“No, Luke.”

As Abraham explained to Luke what he meant, I continued to read through the confession. Spoiler alert: It’s touching how sweet this girl is.

“See, but I’ve liked her for a really long time and I’m considering asking her on a date. She’s my everything, but God says it’s a sin. What should I do? Signed, Abigail.”

I’ve gotten plenty of confessions like these. Boys saying they were born as girls, vice versa, people saying they never wanted sex as a whole, and anyone saying they want to get into a relationship with someone who isn’t the same gender or sex as them. I always end up saying a pretty similar thing: If it’s not a choice, it’s not a sin.

“Hey, where’s Abigail?”

A redhead girl with freckles from up in the balcony stood tall.

“Where’s your friend?”

Abigail pulled up a shorter girl with dark skin.

I saw them holding hands. Abigail’s confession must have got them together.

“I hope you girls have a happy relationship.” I said.

Cheering erupted. I don’t understand why I’m getting cheering when I’m just doing what I should be doing. Congratulating a hopefully happy couple.

“Here’s how I see it. Would you have chosen to like women if you could?”

Abigail nodded, as teary eyed as Mark, a boy from my band right next to me. Mark’s sensitive, especially with that kind of stuff.

“So, if you did not choose it, then why would it be sin? If you did not choose to go inside a stranger’s car, would it be your fault if you were kidnapped?”

Abigail seemed to mumble something.

“Love isn’t a sin. Otherwise, we wouldn’t love. Let’s give it up for Abigail!”

Cheering was present again, including cheering from the other four boys, Luke’s being the loudest.

I, as well as everyone else in my band, have seen tons of people exit, and that’s disheartening for the boys as a whole. But I never saw this many people leaving.

“Why are they leaving?” Abraham whispered. After a few quick seconds of thinking, he went “Oh.”

“This isn’t fair!” Luke said, maybe a little louder than he should have.

“It isn’t Luke.” I agreed. “But, sometimes that’s what happens.”

“I thought everybody fits.”

I turned around, seeing Mark. I can’t imagine how hard this must be for him, who was squeezing his left arm. I gestured for him to hug me, because I know he loved doing that. He’s such a sweet boy, he did not deserve any of this.

“It’s okay, Mark.” I said, the second he got into my arms.

No wonder Mark hasn’t told many people he was gay, not even me or any of the other Boyz (I assume). It’s kind of taboo in our religion. There’s no reason for it to be. Aren’t we supposed to be the ones who accept everyone?

“Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve never had this many people leave a show before.”

“There’s a reason they did.”

The voice wasn’t coming from the stage, rather the left of the theater.

“I beg your pardon?” Juan asked.

“You think people are going to stay here if you keep promoting the homosexual agenda? I don’t want my kids to see that?”

“Um, I’m sorry. Please leave if you want to. No one is stopping you.” Abraham responded.

“Actually, we’d prefer it.” Juan added, glaring directly at the man, who was about ten years older than I am.

“Oh, I brought my kids here to hear family friendly songs about Christianity, not to hear about all of this gay stuff.”

The guy continues to walk on the theater.

“Security?” I ask. Not a single person responds. What happened to the decent security?

I knew I should calm myself down before it was too late.

“Hey, please get off the stage. You said it was reasonable for people to leave, so go do that.” Luke defended Abigail.

Mark was silent for all of this (Figures. Matthew would be too, if he was in this situation), and it seems like the dude started to pick up on it.

“I’m not here to see gay guys dance and sing, especially not obvious ones like him.” He says, pointing at Mark. He responds by crossing his arms, trying to look though but failing.

“I’m not gay... or anything like that, no.”

“Well, then stop acting like such a queer.”

Mark backed away, and I saw Abraham comfort him.

I couldn’t handle my frustration anymore. Mark has done nothing wrong, besides what? Dance? Have an innocent although kind of obvious crush on me? So does at least half of the girls in this audience. Mark’s not different.

“You are nothing but a coward. Get off of this stage, or I’ll push you off.”

He responds by punching me.

“Matt! Matt! Are you okay?” -Abraham

Just a black eye, at most. I’ll survive.

“You did the right thing, buddy. You did the right thing.” -Juan

I guess I did, but it’s hard sometimes.

“Yo, are you dead?” -Luke

I’m not dead, Luke, but thanks for being concerned.

“I’m sorry. This is all my fault.” -Mark

Mark, I don’t want you thinking for a second that this is your fault. You did nothing to deserve any of this.

***

“Matthew?”

“Yes?” I turned back at Mark.

“Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“Hey, it’s no big deal.”

The homophobic guy got arrested, thank the lord. The lord wouldn’t want this, at least that’s what I think.

I have to do some community service, but I don’t mind. So long as my friends know they can be themselves around me.

#altar boyz #angst #matthew altar boyz

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mirkwoodshewolf · 4 years

Text

Time travel rescue crossover fic; 11th Doctor x teen reader ft. Queen

*Author’s note*

Well guys this is it. After tomorrow I will be HOME FREE OF SCHOOL AND THEN GRADUATE AND LEAVE COLLEGE FOREVER NEXT THURS. So now that I FINALLY completed my assignments save for my final tomorrow, I can finally start posting some more stuff up. Now this series came from a wattpad request, and not only that but I’ve seen several time travel fic regarding Queen but this one is a little different, welcome to my 2nd crossover series and this one is based around.

DOCTOR WHO!!! Yep and as mentioned in the title it takes place during the 11th gen. of the Raggedy Doctor. So in this fic it’s the ACTUAL band Queen, not the BoRhap boys being Queen. So some facts I’m pulling based off people posting facts through here and some knowledge I began to find myself. I hope you all enjoy the first few chapters of this series and give it a shot :) Happy reading the next few parts I’ve got. And if you’d like to be tagged in this series, just leave a comment below.

Taglist (this series open):

@psychosupernatural

@plethora-of-things

@ixchel-9275

@waddles03

@platawnic

@bensrhapsody

@geek-and-proud

@queendeakyy

@kairosfreddie

_______________________________________________________

*December 20th, 2019*

I was riding my bike through the streets of London which was packed with Christmas decorations. Everyone scrambling around trying to do last minute shopping, I however had a different agenda. I was going to meet a friend of mine that I promised I would meet.

I arrived off the corner of Kensington street and there I saw the famed blue police box. I parked my bike just across from it and looked around to make sure no one was watching or coming towards this direction before finally hopping on in.

And once I stepped inside, I found myself in a place that looked bigger on the inside. For you see this wasn’t any ordinary police box, this was the TARDIS, a time machine in English that was owned by none other than…..

“Ahh so good to see you’ve arrived on time (y/n).” Well speak of the devil.

“Don’t I always when it comes to you?” I said as I walked towards the raggedy old fool and hugged him. A man known as The Doctor.

“How’s your nan doing?”

“She’s better.”

“I know she is, now that she don’t have to worry about you hanging around with those no gooders. Aren’t you glad I found you when I did?” To make a long story short, after both my parents were thrown in prison on various charges, my nana was the only legal guardian to take care of me.

Well by the time I reached 13, I was starting to follow down the same path as my parents. A life of petty crime, mostly gang banging and some drugs. That was until the Doctor came into my life when I was turned 14. After a few time adventures with him, it got me to see that life really is too short. So I left the gang life and tried to make things up with my nana and I’ve been clean and good for 2 years now.

It’s hard I’ll admit, especially trying to get away from the violence that I had been known in my gang. Back with them they called me the ‘Tigress’ cause I showed no mercy when it comes to fighting, I could literally become a savage animal at the snap of a finger.

We hugged each other and he said.

“So what shall it be today?”

“Well…..” I pulled out my phone and opened up my Youtube playlist and went to the first channel that was labeled QUEEN concerts and I clicked the first link. “Could I maybe tempt you into taking me back to a Queen concert? Specifically their Christmas Eve concert they did after the release of a Night at the Opera in 1975. I think next to the Live Aid performance, that’s my favorite concert of theirs.”

“Well as I once said I didn’t ever want to tamper with actual history. But it’s Christmas, the time for miracles. Maybe I could overlook this just once. Plus who could refuse a Queen concert?”

“Apparently most kids my age.”

“Alright so Christmas week 1975.” The Doctor went over to the control and flipped some switches and soon we were off.

However as we were traveling through time and space, there was a sudden jolt. The lights flickered and I was knocked over towards the railing.

“What the hell was that?”

“I don’t know. We shouldn’t have hit something.” He activated a few buttons and turned on the monitors. The look on his face turned pale with horror.

“What is it Doctor?”

“We picked up a straggler.” The TARDIS jolted again.

“Is there any way to shake it off? I mean what exactly has us?”

“I’m still trying to read into it’s vital signs but it’s cloaked itself good, even from this old girl.” Suddenly the doors opened and soon coming in was this figure.

It sorta looked human as it did have a human form but it’s skin was like a dolphin or a sharks, it had long claw-like nails with webbing between each finger. It hissed at us and the Doctor quickly improvised and directed the TARDIS in a sudden right jolt.

The creature went towards the wall but it kept its eyes locked right on us.

“Doctor the doors!” I cried out. He looked towards the doors to still see them open.

“Hang on and don’t let go whatever you do! Just hang on tight to the railing!” I nodded and he tried as best as he could through the wind of the time vortex we were still spinning through. I kept my eyes on the Doctor unaware that the creature was slowly crawling up towards me.

Suddenly I felt this painful grip on my forearm and slowly claw down it. I let out a cry and I turned to see the creature standing right before me. It hissed at me revealing razor sharp teeth, it’s black soulless eyes staring deeply into mine.

“Doctor!” I cried out. Then without warning, the creature dug its claws into the back of my hands and pushed me outward forcing me to fly out of the TARDIS, barely hearing the Doctor calling out my name. Then I guess I must’ve blacked out because I couldn’t remember anything after that.

When I finally came back around, the first thing I felt was cold and something wet. When I slowly opened my eyes, I saw nothing but white powder in front of me, as well as flakes falling onto my face.

Slowly I got up and found myself in London, or at least I hoped it was.

“Doctor? Doctor!?” I called out. I looked down at my hands to see they had indented claw marks and were bleeding. As a wind chill blew across me, I began shivering and I walked out of the alleyway to see people walking along the streets with shopping bags.

‘Okay so I know I’m on Earth, or at least I think I am. But when exactly am I?’ I thought to myself. I thought if I kept walking then maybe I could find a store or something to shed some light on where and when I am.

I walked along and I could see Big Ben as well as the London eye, okay so I am in London. And based on the fashion choices that I saw people walk by in, I could be in the 70’s. Finally I reached a newspaper stand and I quickly grabbed a newspaper and read the date.

December 19th, 1975. Okay so I was one day and 44 years into the past, thank god for that at least. I mean I could’ve landed somewhere far worse. But what happened to the Doctor? And just what was that thing that attacked us? As I went to turn around I bumped into someone.

“Sorry I—I was looking where I was…..”

“No problem love, it was an accident.” That voice it—it couldn’t be. I looked up and the first thing I see are those entrancing blue eyes and long golden hair that shined like the sun.

“You’re—you’re……” I was completely starstruck because standing right before me was none other than Roger Taylor.

“Roger Taylor? Yes, I’m going to assume you’re a fan of Queen?” I softly nodded. Oh my god I can’t believe that I’m standing in front of the Roger Taylor.

I mean—it was because of him I became interested in the drums. Shortly after I left the gang life behind; since I had always been a Queen fan since childhood, my nana bought me my first ever drumkit after my six months of being clean of the violent outbursts. She thought I could do have a better outlook banging the drums instead of banging with another gang.

His style of drumming has always fascinated me and sometimes I would try to copy some of his solos as best I could, and I’ll say that I’m a pretty decent drummer but I’ll never be up to his level of drumming.

“Well since you seem to know my name, may I know yours?”

“Uhh (y)—(y/n).”

“It’s nice to meet you (y/n).” he held out his hand for me to take. I was nervous to take his hand but I didn’t want him to think that I was a bitch. Hopefully the bleeding has stopped, so I reached out and I took his hand. Unfortunately he immediately noticed the blood. “(Y/n)….what happened to your hand?”

“Oh well I—I was…..a cat scratched me.”

“These don’t look like any cat scratches I know. And believe me Freddie has over 7 and I’ve been scratched by almost all of them at some point in time.” He then tucked some hair away from my face and he continued, “Be honest love, I won’t judge you but I need to know. Did—did some arsehole…..assault you?” Well to a degree but not in the way he was implying, but how do you tell your idol that? So to kinda put him at ease I whipped up a quick excuse.

“Well…..I—they just came out of nowhere…. I-I-I tried to stop them but they…..”

“Ohh you poor thing,” he cooed as he gently embraced me. “Come with me. I can help heal those scratches and make you a warm cuppa, eh?” I nodded and he then guided me towards the Hammersmith Odeon.

When we got there, I’ll be honest that I couldn’t believe that I was in the actual Hammersmith Odeon theater. Cause back—well forward in my time it’s called the Hammersmith Apollo and it’s mostly shown dance acts, and live performances for comedians.

“First aid’s in the dressing room. That’s the last known place I know it was at when Fred was dealing with some blisters the other day.” He guided me towards backstage and I saw dozens of roadies and other volunteers and workers getting ready for sound checks, probably for a rehearsal. “Here we are.”

Roger opened the door and guided me inside. Already I saw four sections of the big dressing room where each band member got ready. I saw from the photo of Veronica holding baby Robert that the section I was standing near was Deacy’s corner.

Just ahead where the red special was and what appeared to be an astronomy book was Brian’s place. And of course the one where dozens of cat pictures along with the beautiful Mary Austin’s picture was Freddie’s.

“Okay let’s see; first aid, first aid, first aid.” Roger muttered as he went through Freddie’s side. Lifting up various music sheets, journals and drawers. “Damnit Fred where the bloody hell did you put it—Ah-ha there you are!” He then pulled out an old school style first aid kit. “Right have a seat over here love.”

“I—I don’t know. I mean am I even allowed to be in here?”

“No not really but this is an emergency. So come on, sit. I don’t bite.” Cautiously I walked further in the dressing room and sat down in Freddie’s seat. “Okay let’s see here, we’ll need antiseptic cream, and…bandages.” He took out the cream first and he told me to show him my hands.

He then began to doctor up both my hands, but just before he put the first aid kit away, he noticed that my right sleeve was stained with blood. He carefully rolled it up and that’s when I saw the four long scratches that went from just an inch or two below my elbow to my wrist.

“Oh my god love. I—I’ve never seen a weapon do something like this, what did they use?”

“I—I couldn’t see what it was. Is it bad?”

“I don’t think so. But let me go a bowl of water, and a couple of towels to see what we’re dealing with here. Blood always makes things seem worse than what they are. Just stay here for a moment okay?” I nodded and he smiled at me before exiting the dressing room.

Once he came back with items, he set them down on the table and gently guided my arm over the bowl and dipped one of the towel into the water. He wrung it out and slowly began dabbing away the blood. I hissed on occasion and with each hissed, he apologized. Once the blood was cleared away, he dabbed the dry towel over my wet forearm before carefully observing it.

“Well they don’t look too deep for stitches, otherwise we’d need to call the hospital.”

“Yeah, thank god.” I was grateful for that because I won’t even be born until 30 years from now so there’s no way any hospital would have my records.

“Hey (y/n), if you don’t mind me asking, what exactly happened?”

“It—it’s honestly a blur to me Roger. I was—just minding my business with a friend of mine then next thing I knew we got jumped and….oh shit my friend he….he doesn’t know where I am! I-I have to find him!”

“Hey, hey, hey, hey (y/n), (y/n) calm down. Deep breaths for me.” He gently calmed me down and got me to take a few deep breaths. Man, who would’ve thought the Roger Taylor would be the one comforting me during a freak out episode.

“Sorry.” I muttered.

“No, no don’t apologize at all. Look let’s get you healed up first, and then we can think about finding your friend, alright?” I nodded and he said as he gently cupped the side of my face and gingerly thumbed across my cheek “Atta girl.” Suddenly the door opened and a voice said.

“Whoa were we interrupting anything here my darlings?” Oh my god—no way. It was him, it was really him. Freddie Fucking Mercury. Vibrant and young Freddie Mercury. Alongside him I saw Brian May to his left and John Deacon was to the right.

“No not at all guys.”

“Whose this?” asked Brian.

“This is (y/n). I found her—well actually she ran into me while I was at the newsstand. Shortly after she got jumped by some thugs.”

“Oh you poor darling!” Freddie cooed as he raced up towards me. “Who were the bastards that did this to you? You give me descriptions and I’ll fucking murder them!”

Aww, I can’t believe that after just meeting me not even 10 seconds, Freddie’s already wanting to defend my honor and beat up the fake thugs that did this to me. All those interviews of people calling Freddie nice, seeing it with my own eyes, they weren’t even close to describing Freddie’s kindness and loyalty.

“It’s alright Freddie, there’s no need for you to go to jail for assault.”

“Well fuck that! Anyone who gangs up on a girl like that deserves to have their arses beaten.” Can’t argue with him on that. Suddenly I felt the stinging sensation of the antiseptic cream go onto my scratches.

“Sorry love.” Roger apologized.

“It’s—alright.”

“Roger give the girl fair warning next time!” Freddie exclaimed.

“Would you like anything to drink (y/n)? Water? Tea?” asked Deacy.

“Well Roger was gonna offer me a warm cuppa.”

“How about a hot chocolate instead. After a night that you had, why not take something a little warmer. Plus nothing cures trauma better than chocolate.” Deacy offered.

“Okay, I can go for a hot chocolate.”

“Coming right up.”

“Lucky duckie. Deacy dear makes the best cup of hot chocolate ever.” Freddie told me.

“Sneaky bastard won’t let us in on how he makes it!” Roger called out.

“Because you lot don’t deserve to know!” Deacy called back as he peeked back in the room before heading back down the hallway to make my hot chocolate.

“Right, time for the bandages.” Roger said.

“Here Rog, I’ll take care of that.” Brian stepped forward and took over the doctoring. My god if you had told me three years ago that I would be getting doctored by Brian May and Roger Taylor, be served hot chocolate handmade by John Deacon and having Freddie Mercury rub your back comfortingly as your being doctored by the.

I would’ve told you, you were crazy.

As Brian began wrapping my arm up, he looked up at me and asked.

“Too tight?”

“No, no it’s fine.” I assured him. He softly smiled and kept wrapping my arm up till it covered up the last of my scratches.

“There all done.”

“Thank you Brian.”

“You’re welcome (y/n).” he said with that warm smile of his. It was then Deacy came walking in with a cup of hot chocolate.

“Here you go (y/n), I just took it out of the microwave so be careful.” I took the cup between my hands and allowed the hot mug to warm up my cold, numbing hands. I blew on it before taking a light sip.

Holy shit the guys weren’t kidding. I mean at first my nana’s hot chocolate was always the best but now I’m starting to think Deacy’s overpowers my nana’s special recipe.

“Oh my god, this is so good.”

“Glad you like it dear.”

“I mean—I think you just kicked my nana’s famed recipe out the window.”

“Well I mean no disrespect to your nana.” Deacy said apologetically.

“No, no, no hell if she were here, she’d be wanting to get your recipe herself.” Deacy smiled that sweet, eye crinkled smile as he softly chuckled.

“Not only the best bass player we could find but also the best hot chocolate maker we could ask for.” Freddie praised as he placed an arm around Deacy’s neck. Aww my god I can’t believe I’m witnessing firsthand of the bond these two shared. No wonder why Deacy left after Freddie died.

“Oh stop it you old tart.”

“Ahh Brian! Deacy’s using those dirty words again!” Freddie whined out.

“Hey lads, the manager’s closing up the stadium for the night if you all are done for the night.” Queen’s future manager Jim Beach came into the dressing room.

“Thank you Miami.” Freddie said.

“Do you have a place to stay tonight (y/n)?” asked Brian.

“Uhh well I—”

“Yes. As we were on our way here I told her that she could stay with me for tonight. Just in case those thugs try and find her again.” Roger spoke as he wrapped an arm around me. I looked to Roger and he looked down at me assuringly and winked at me.

“Well then let’s get a move on. I’d rather not be locked up in here over night.” Deacy said.

“Well said Deacy. Not like back in Atlanta eh?” Freddie teased.

“I thought we vowed to never talk about that!” Deacy snapped. As the guys walked on ahead, Roger and I lagged behind and I asked him.

“You sure it’s okay for me to stay with you?”

“Yeah. I’ve got an extra bed in my room. Plus I don’t want you to be out in the streets in the middle of winter.”

“Thanks Roger. But what will I do about clothes?”

“I’ll let you borrow some small clothes as pajamas for tonight. Then tomorrow Freddie and I can help you shop for some clothes. Maybe we can also find that friend of yours.” I smiled softly and said.

“I—don’t know what to say.”

“Say nothing, c’mon let’s get back to the hotel and into bed. You’ve had a long night and look like you could use some rest.” We then got into the car and the driver drove the five of us back to the hotel. Roger guided me towards his room and using his key, he allowed me in first.

It was a pretty big sized room with two beds as he said, a small telly and a closet. Roger went inside and muttered to himself before finally pulling out a plain black t-shirt and some sweats.

“Here, these are too small for me, hopefully they’ll do you some good. The loo’s just over there.” He pointed towards the jointed room beside the bed farthest from the window. I walked inside of it and changed out of my clothes and into Roger’s old stuff.

The pants were obviously a little too long but the shirt fit snug around me. I then went over to the mirror and looked down at my bandaged arm.

“Oh Doctor, I hope you’re alright. Where—whenever you are.” I don’t know what that thing was that attacked but I prayed that he was alright and somehow managed to lose it.

“(Y/n)? You okay in there?” I heard Roger’s voice say.

“Yeah, yeah Roger I’m good.” I then stepped out of the loo and Roger looked me over.

“Not bad, I’ll give the pants a trim so that they’re not dragging across the floor tomorrow. Then tomorrow when Freddie and I take you out, we’ll get you some clothes that will fit you.”

“Do you think he’ll want to join us?” I asked

“Absolutely. Besides he looks for any excuse to shop and he’s better at picking clothes than me. I just pick what matches based off of fabric, damn eyesight.” That I did know for a fact. But I chose to act like I didn’t know that fact.

“Thanks again for all that you’ve done for me tonight.”

“Again love, no thanks are necessary. I just hope your friend didn’t get into the squabble you were in.”

“I hope so too.” I muttered before letting out a long yawn. Roger softly chuckled.

“It’s getting late, why don’t you get some sleep?” I nodded and walked over to the bed that was closest to the radiator. I tucked myself in and almost immediately fell asleep on the old, lumpy mattress.

*Roger’s POV*

Even though she had taken my bed next to the radiator, I didn’t have the heart to move her. After the night she’s been through, she deserved to have as much comfort as possible.

After taking my nightly shower and changing into my pajamas I looked over at (y/n) hoping that we would find her friend in good health, cause if (y/n) managed to get away with scratches like those, then I pray her friend’s not worse.

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kbandtrash · 4 years

Text

Surrounded (Mafia Crossover AU)(Part 8)

~Megan~

Masterlist

Day6/N.Flying/The Rose/Like any other kband honestly x Reader

Warnings: Violence, self-harm

Word Count: 2.1k

Part 1

“Y/N! Y/N!”

Sungjin barged into your room. There you were, lying on the bed. You didn't seem to be conscious. He rushed up to you.

“Y/N?”

You didn't wake. He shook you a little, careful not to hurt you. The result was your eyes opening slowly. When you saw Sungjin, you flinched.

“Don't hurt me, please!” you begged. “I didn't mean to…”

“I know. Woosung has done things like this before.”

You covered your face with your hands and he saw your body start to shake. “And I've done just as bad things…”

“You don't… know that. You've got your own mind today. When you did those things, you were being controlled.”

You peeked at him from behind your fingers. “Sungjin… why did they hate you in the first place?”

“Well… you know how most Mafias are related, like family?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, Day6 isn't related. We were created by JYP, our boss, to oppose some other Mafia causing chaos. Ever since then, we've mostly been here to get rid of rogue Mafias like The Rose.”

“Why are they rogue?”

Sungjin sighed. “Y/N, there are some things I can tell you. Other things, other people can.” He paused. “I'm giving you an assignment, alright?”

You bit your lip, scratching at your arms. Sungjin gripped your hands tightly, stopping you from furthering your self-harm. You took in a shaky breath.

“It's not scary. I want you to interview the Mafia members you meet, any of them. Find out as much as you can about all this stupid Mafia stuff.”

You furrowed your brows, suddenly confused. “Oh… okay?”

He chuckled, helping you off the bed. “I propose you start with Day6. Since I'm here, why not begin here?”

You warily nodded. “Uh, then… Sungjin, why is it called Day6 if you only have five members?” You already knew half of this, of course, but you needed to know more.

He cringed and looked down. Then he was saved from the question when his phone rang in his pocket. He scrunched his face apologetically and answered the call, going out into the hall. You didn't expect him to come back, so you headed to the bathroom.

To your delight, a set of new clothes sat on a stool inside, next to a shower. You didn't realize how gross you felt until you smelled the fresh and clean flowery smell—almost like roses.

You happily leapt into the shower and scrubbed yourself raw, making sure to avoid worsening your injuries. The joy you got from simply washing your hair was unreal. You felt like singing, but unfortunately you didn't know any songs.

You stepped out feeling refreshed. Pulling on your clothes left you in awe—you had on something you hadn't thought you would look so good in. You wore a white shirt with the thin golden outline of a 6, a black leather jacket just long enough to reach your waist, and black slightly-ripped jeans.

“Wow,” you said to yourself, quietly admiring the sight in the mirror. You left your dress on the bathroom floor. When you opened the door to your bedroom, you spotted a dirty-blonde man you recognized from being part of NFlying.

He smiled. “Hi, Y/N. I'm Hun.”

His smile seemed pretty genuine, but he looked as if he were afraid of you. You didn’t blame him, and wanted him to feel safe around you, so you returned a shy grin. Hopefully you didn’t look creepy, like Woosung. “Nice to meet you, I guess. What’re you doing here?”

He was by your bed, leaning against it. He shrugged. “Sungjin told me about your little ‘mission’ thing. I’m here to answer the questions I can.”

“Do you not know everything about N.Flying, or are you only supposed to talk about some things?”

“I’m only allowed to speak of a few things with you, and then I can take you to the other members. I think the next person on the agenda is Jaehyun. He can tell you more than I can, but he also can’t tell you everything.” Hun noticed that you had stayed by the bathroom door, so he gestured for you to come closer.

You walked hesitantly over to him and took a seat on the edge of your bed. Hun twisted around from where he was standing so he could still see you. “I guess I’ll ask a question…”

“Yep.”

“Is Seunghyub the leader of N.Flying?”

“Yes. Actually, when we operated in Japan, I was the leader. When we came to Korea, that role switched to Seunghyub.”

“Why?”

“He was originally a very important person here, and I wasn’t confident enough to continue leading here, so I stepped down from my position to let him lead. He had more experience here.”

“What do you mean he was important?” you asked, shifting on the bed, trying to find a comfortable sitting position. You decided to stand, because you weren’t going to sit on the floor in front of Hun. He would most likely get angry at you for doing so.

“He is an actual descendant of the original Jopok boss,” he said simply, lacing his fingers together and fidgeting quietly. “He was raised to be the leader of his own family Mafia, but he was recruited into this team instead.”

“Oh. So, what does N.Flying do? I mean, now, since you have to stay at JYP.”

“Well,” he began, licking his lips, “N.Flying has a long history. If you want to know anything about what we did before, I think Jaehyun can tell you. But now… I guess our role is simply working with DAY6, mostly. We don’t have a lot of the things we used to have before, and we don’t own this place, so we aren’t authorized to do much activity. A lot of the time, we just do what we’re told.”

You nodded and scrunched your eyebrows. “So I know that Dowoon is an assassin for DAY6. Who is your assassin?”

Hun seemed a little surprised with the sudden topic change, but he went along with it. “Hweseung. Have you met him?”

“I don’t think so,” you said, thinking hard. “You should just tell me about all of your members, so I don’t have to ask a million times.”

Hun’s eyes lit up as he smiled. “Well, there’s our leader, Seunghyub.”

“I’ve met him.”

“Oh? What’d you think of him?”

You looked at Hun sideways, and then sat back on the bed because your legs were getting tired. “What do you want me to say? He was nice? That would be kind of weird, since this is the Mafia and all.”

Hun nodded sheepishly. “You’re right. But was he at least handsome? I heard that an important part of being a Mafia boss is looking good.”

That brought a grin to your face, and you giggled a little. “I guess he was. But, to be fair, all of the boys I’ve met so far have been really attractive. Anyway, please continue.”

“Jaehyun is apparently more attractive than Seunghyub, according to some recruits.” He returned the smile and nudged you softly. “But… does ‘the boys’ include me?”

“I suppose you’re kinda cute.”

His smile dropped into a frown. “I am not cute. Tell that to Jaehyun. So!” He cleared his throat to change the topic. “After Seunghyub, by order of importance, there’s Hweseung, who I already told you is our assassin and spy. He’s outstanding at his job, by the way. Next comes Jaehyun, the trainer. He can also go on missions, but he isn’t the go-to assassin. You’ve probably met him before.”

“I have.”

“Then there is Dongsung. He’s a guard, and is also a mission-worthy person, because of his fighting skills. But because he’s kind of new, he has a lower role than he might have. He operates in the dungeons most of the time. Jaehyun likes to make fun of him for being down there.”

“I’ve never met Dongsung, either, even though I’ve spent five years in the dungeon.”

“Be glad he never had a post outside of your cell. He’s really talkative and would annoy the heck out of you.” He let a laugh come out, and then coughed awkwardly. “Um, then there’s K- uh, me. The doctor. Don’t underestimate me, because I can still fight. I just prefer to pick up after the fight.”

“Hm. Okay.”

“Yeah. That’s N.Flying, for the most part. Anything else you want to ask me before we should probably sleep?”

“Sleep?”

“Yeah, it’s almost…” he paused to look at the blue and white watch on his wrist, “eleven at night. You need your rest, and you should start getting used to an actual bed.”

“You heard?”

He nodded. “Young K tells me a lot. We aren’t super close, but he likes to keep me updated on everything.” He sighed. “I’m a little forgotten. He’s the only one who says much to me other than Jaehyun.”

“You seem to talk about Jaehyun a lot.”

Hun nodded. “He’s my best friend!”

You suddenly felt sad -- a pit in your stomach grew. “I bet it’s great, having friends.”

Hun felt the energy in you disappear and he cocked his head, looking at you sadly. “You can’t expect to have best friends on your first day out of a dungeon. Especially after your multiple relapses.”

“I wish I didn’t have such an awful past. It’s unfair that I can’t be trusted just because of this stupid relapse business.”

Hun sighed and began to step toward the door. “I can’t trust you, but I hope you’ll trust me. I’ll be your friend.”

You perked up. “Really?”

“Yep. Now get some sleep, and don’t be on the floor.”

You sighed, already dreading going to sleep. You didn’t think you could sleep in that bed at all. “Okay…”

He exited, closing the door quietly behind him. You sat quietly in silence, not wanting to lay down. After a minute or two, a knock came at the door.

You jumped up, running to answer the door. There you saw two short women, one around your age, and the other a few years older. You were surprised to see people here other than the many men you had been surrounded by since being brought out of your cell.

“Hello!” the younger one said, smiling.

You blinked, still taking it in. “Hi.”

“I’m Eun-mi,” she continued, pushing her way past you to enter your room. “And this is my older sister, Eun-chae. We’re maids here at the DAY6 mansion.”

“Um, nice to meet you, then.”

Eun-mi twirled her long brown hair and smiled. Eun-chae pushed a set of clothes into your arms. She had short black hair that was slightly wavy. Her nervous smile flashed for a moment.

“Well, those are your pajamas, miss. We’ll come by tomorrow to get you set up in here, and we’ll give you more things,” Eun-mi said politely.

You didn’t really want them to speak so politely, because you hoped to become more acquainted with them; after all, they were the first girls you had seen. “How old are you, Eun-mi?”

“Huh? Me?” She looked shy suddenly and bowed her head. “Don’t ask me not to use honorifics, miss. I am your maid.”

You crossed your arms, suddenly more sure of yourself because of her submittance. “You two are the only girls I’ve met, and I don’t wish to have maids. I would much rather have friends. So please, don’t bother with being polite.”

She blinked, and then smiled. “Alright, I’d gladly be your friend. Right, unni?” she checked, turning to Eun-chae.

“Alright,” the older girl said quietly.

“Now,” Eun-mi started, “Put on the night clothes and go to bed. Good night!”

The two nodded and exited, smiles on their faces now. You felt better knowing that you had two new acquaintances that seemed easier to get along with than the boys. The men were part of the Mafia, so they wouldn’t be the best to simply hang out with.

You walked to the bathroom to change and did so, finding things to brush your teeth and hair with along the way. You were ready to sleep, now, but you weren’t ready at all to climb into bed. Sighing, you pulled back the covers and tucked yourself in, thinking hard about anything other than how uncomfortable you were.

Somehow, you fell asleep.

Part 9

#day6 #n.flying #the rose #day6 fanfic #n.flying fanfic #the rose fanfic #day6 x reader #n.flying x reader #the rose x reader #day6 au #n.flying au #the rose au #kpop #crossover #surrounded #megan

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kprciffdw · 3 years

Text

Kim Possible: The Extremely Secret Files-Part 23

They eventually arrived at the final planet: Yeedil. As soon as they landed and got out of this ship, they stood by and stared out at the massive Megacorp building that sat underneath a black sky. Kim: "So this is it, the Megacorp Protopet Factory." Ron: "Huh, you know something? This place pretty much screams "Typical Bad Guy Lair", wouldn't you think?" Kim: "Hm…you do make a good point. It does look ominous, almost like this whole mission." Ratchet: "I'm sorry, you guys, I had no way of knowing this was all a terrible idea from the start." Kim: "Don't worry about it, Ratchet; it didn't seem that way to me, either. Although, there was something that struck me as a bit fishy during the beginning, it wasn't enough to confirm anything."

Ratchet smiled, then looked back at the facility with a serious look on his face. Ratchet: "Hm, it seems kind of wrong to raid a corporate factory, but after everything they've put us through, they had it coming. Who else here also wants to get even with this company?" Kim: "I am so there. No one messes with my friends and gets away with it, especially after what they did to you, Ratchet."

Ratchet smiled again. Just then, the Kimmunicator went off, Kim pulled it out immediately. Kim: "Yeah, Wade?" Wade: "Kim, I have 2 things for you. First off, I've located the last piece of your dad's space shuttle; it's directly inside that factory building." Kim: "Well, how about that? The final piece is just inside the belly of the beast." Ron: "And in the possession of Megacorp's beloved CEO, no doubt." Wade: "I would think so, too. Secondly, I just built another device for you guys. I'll transport it now."

Wade's vendor appeared again. Transporting from it was a small device. Kim grabbed it and observed it. Wade: "It's a disrupter device. I built it from studying that crystal you found in that icy tunnel. That Megacorp factory is loaded with some of the toughest, most advanced security system in the galaxy. This should at least disrupt a lot of their most detrimental ones." Kim: "Hm…sounds as though we'll be needing this to infiltrate that factory. Thanks, Wade, you rock hardcore."

Wade smiled before Kim put away the Kimmunicator. Ratchet: "Seems like we both have our reasons for needing to break into the factory." Kim: "Not really. Believe it or not, that last piece is not my main reason. Mr. Fizzwidget took advantage of you; he used you like a tool and tried to dispose of you when he didn't need you anymore. Elder or not, that geezer is going down just because of that."

Ratchet smiled at her, then looked towards Ron and Clank as well as Kim. Ratchet: "Alright, guys. Let's do it."

They rushed towards the factory as fast as they could.

Getting to the front door has proven to be very difficult. They was a very large gap that separated them from the factory entrance. In fact, it separated them from the entire facility. Thankfully, Kim and Ratchet provided the perfect solution to that problem with the use of their own grappling gadgets. They used them to get themselves as well as Ron and Clank across the gap. However, they wound up in the middle of a robot barrage and one that they couldn't escape from, so they were forced to fight through the barrage. It was an excruciatingly, tough fight and it lasted for an extensive amount of time. They were nearly exhausted just trying to get through, but they eventually eradicated the entire barrage. Ron: "Man! If that was the welcoming committee, I'd hate to see what's waiting for us inside that building!" Kim: "So do I, but just think of how much worse it would be without that disrupter Wade gave us. I've noticed a lot of the other forms of machinery here." Clank: "Yes, I have noticed that, too, Miss Possible. That would be the exact security system that Wade mentioned would have been detrimental to us." Kim: "Well, if that's true, then good thing he gave us this disrupter or else we would be in for a real tough fight." Ratchet: "You took the words out of my mouth, Kimberly. In any case, we have to keep going." Clank: "Yes, we must keep at it; we have come too far to back out of this now and there is too much at stake." Ron: "For once, I agree on that. These guys have pushed us too far and have caused too much carnage to the good people of this galaxy. Let's trash this place and teach these corporate marauders a lesson they'll never forget!" Ratchet: "You said it, Ron." Kim: "I just hope Angela is doing OK. She probably has it really tough handling those orbital defenses." Ratchet: "I'm worried about her, too, but we can't think about her right now. We have to stay focused on the task at hand." Kim: "You're right. She would want us to keep going and not waste any time worrying for her. Let's just go, I would be sure that she'll catch up with us sooner or later."

They rushed into the facility. The second they set foot into the front door, they've come across one tough fight after another. Everywhere they looked, there were robots attempting to stop them. They were incredibly vicious, and they came by the boat loads, but the group was able to fight through them regardless of how tough it was. It had indeed been their toughest fight yet as the robots had been shown to be extremely formidable, but thankfully, so was the group.

Despite all of that, they were content with seeing that the robots were the only line of defense active at the time. They could see all around them a lot of the advanced security systems, knowing what they would have been up against if not for Wade's disrupter device. The entire facility was a very long stretch, it was a vast and difficult trek, especially with all of the constant battles making the trek seem longer, not to mention that they made things a lot tougher. However, they were shown that they could really hold their own in all of it. Even Ron was actually pulling is own weight in all of this, instead of running away screaming like he usually does. You could really tell that he had a serious agenda as it was the same with the rest of the group. Rufus was also very dedicated to doing his part for the team. A few times, when he was needed to handle a few small tasks that needed to be done, he help out the team the best of his skills and had felt very proud of himself for getting each and every task done. The team couldn't possibly think of anything more they could ever need from the little guy.

Within much time, they came very close to the end. Kim: "Wade, how much further to the Protopet Duplication Chamber?" Wade: "You're almost there, just keep on the path you're going then take the next left and you're free and clear." Kim: "Got it! Thanks, Wade."

They kept on the trek. It was a bit long from there, but soon enough, they were able to reach a large door. Wade: "OK, guys, the Protopet Duplication Chamber should be on the other side of that door. Just use that ID badge and you should be good to go."

Angela eventually rushed in, panting from exhaustion. Angela: "I'm sorry I'm late. I had some trouble with the guards." Kim: "Actually, you couldn't have come at a better time." Ron: "Alright, let's crack that bad boy open and end this Protopet madness."

Just then, the female robot from a while back arrived, waving her arms to tell them no as though she had something important to say. Ron: "Uh, what's with this girl robot?" Clank: "She is trying to tell us something."

Her head opened up from her mouth, revealing a screen. On the screen was a footage of Captain Qwark selling Personal Hygenators in one of the worst disguises ever, announcing that he has sold 1 million Hygenators and planned to finance his comeback by heading for another galaxy and rescue it from a potential threat. He then laughed manically.

Just then, Mr. Fizzwidget, who showed up with several guard bots, severely shocked the female robot, startling the entire group. Ron: "OH, SNAP!" Kim: "What the…?" Ratchet: "Oh, my gosh!" Clank: "What do you think you are doing?" Angela: "Mr. Fizzwidget!"

They then watched him unzip himself in perhaps the most disturbing spot imaginable, which appalled them a lot. He revealed himself to be Captain Qwark. Kim: "Wait! What? What is…?" Ron: "Hey, you're that Qwark guy we saw on that…that show." Clank: "Oh, no, this is bad." Angela: "Alright, just what the flod is going on!?" Ratchet: "Angela!" Kim: "I believe I know exactly what this is; Captain Qwark over here has been masquerading as your beloved CEO to unleash this Protopet disaster and from what that female bot has just shown us, it's all part of his comeback scheme to make himself a hero again, right?" Qwark: "Gee, aren't you a smart little redhead girl? That's right, I'm about to save the galaxy from the Protopets and all of you have become my prime suspects…uh…whoever…some of you are…Guards, seize them."

Soon enough, the entire group was brought into the Duplication Chamber, where they were held at gunpoint by the guard bots. Qwark stood near the original Protopet. There was a camera in the chamber with them, pointed at Qwark. Qwark: "Smile. It's show time." Kim: "This is so the perfect time to be camera shy." Ron: "This is really bad." Qwark: "Ahem. Citizens of Bogon. I…am Captain Qwark. I have come to you in this, your darkest of hours to shine the Flashlight of Justice on your galaxy." Ratchet: "(laugh) Flashlight of Justice?"

He was knocked on the head by one of the guard bots' guns. Qwark: "As you all know, a living menace called the Protopet has been set loose in your galaxy. But fear not, Bogonites. For I, Captain Qwark, have caught the perpetrators."

The camera was pointed towards the group. Qwark: "Yes, good citizens. These are the masterminds behind Megacorp's…"

The camera shifted back to Qwark as he finished his sentence. Qwark: "Experiment with death." Kim: "Oh, so not."

She was bashed on the back of her shoulder with another one of the guard bots' guns. Qwark: "And now…"

He then pulled out a strange looking remote like device with 3 short wires sticking out of it, each with a transceiver at the very end. Qwark: "With this…uh…super…electro-gadget I invented, I will end the Protopet threat once and for all." Angela: "Hey! That's MY Helix-o-morph! I invented…"

She was hit on the stomach with another one of the guard bots' guns. Qwark: "Ahem. Stay tuned, dear viewers, as I amplify the signal from this Helix-o-thingy and render every Protopet in the galaxy completely harmless. Now then, how do I…work this…thing? Let's see, there's this…and then…uh, I…do this… and then…uh…I…uh…how is this…?"

Kim whispered to Ratchet as she leaned in closer to him. Kim: "Yeah, this guy sounds exactly like someone who invented that device."

Ratchet giggled. Qwark: "Ah, yes, got it! Now then, allow me to demonstrate."

With a push of a button on the Helix-o-morph, he zapped the Protopet. Within a few seconds, the Protopet increased in size and morphed into a massive beast. It looked towards Qwark and gobbled him up whole. The guard bots became frightened and ran away, leaving the group as they looked up at the massive beast. Ron: "That would be so cool if it wasn't going to hurt us."

The beast then crashed through a nearby wall. Kim: "Uh, does that Helix-o-morph actually work?" Angela: "Uh…I'm sure it did; I tested it myself." Ron: "So, why did that device of yours turn the Protopet in a GIGANTIC MONSTER!?" Angela: "I don't know. I would have to look into what's wrong." Ratchet: "Well, Clank, Kimberly and I will try getting it back somehow. You wait here with Ron to figure out how we're going to fix it." Ron: "What? Are you seriously going to leave us here on the sidelines?" Ratchet: "Do you want to jump into there with that thing?"

Ron looked towards the vicious Protopet beast wondering around. A terrified look then grew on his face. Ron: "Uh…on second thought, I really don't mind standing on the sidelines." Angela: "Actually, we'll be doing some searching around the rest of the place for anything else important." Ratchet: "OK, works for me." Angela: "Ratchet, Kim, Clank, be careful." Clank: "Do not worry about us, we can handle ourselves just fine." Ratchet: "Come on, guys, let's bring down that beast and get back that Helix-o-morph." Kim: "I'm right behind you, Ratchet."

Ratchet, Kim and Clank rushed into the doorway to battle with the beast while Ron watched along with Angela.

#Kim Possible #Ratchet and Kim Possible Chronicles #Ratchet and Clank #Ratchet #Clank #Ron Stoppable #Rufus #Wade #Angela Cross #Mr. Fizzwidget #Captain Qwark #Protopets #Bogon Galaxy #Going Commando

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alexsmitposts · 4 years

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Lies Which the West Manufactures and then Consumes After my work in the Middle East had finished, at least for the time being, I was waiting for my flight to Santiago de Chile. In Paris. I could count on a few ‘free’ days, processing what I had heard and witnessed in Beirut. Day after day, for long hours, I sat in a lounge, typing and typing; reflecting and typing. As I was working, above me, France 24 television news channel was on, beaming from a flat screen. The people around me were coming and going: West African elites on their wild shopping sprees, shouting unceremoniously into their mobile phones. Koreans and Japanese doing Paris. Rude German and North American beefy types, discussing business, laughing vulgarly, disregarding ‘lower beings’, in fact everyone in their immediate radius. No matter what was happening in my hotel, France 24 was on, and on, and on. Yes, precisely; for 24 hours, recycling for days and nights the same stories, once in a while updating news, with a slightly arrogant air of superiority. Here, France was judging the world; teaching Asia, the Middle East, Africa and Latin America, about themselves. In front of my eyes, above me, on that screen, the world was changing. For many months I had been covering the nightmarish riots of the treasonous violent ninjas in Hong Kong. I was all over the Middle East, particularly Lebanon, and now I was on my way to my second home, Latin America, where socialism has kept winning elections, but was getting beaten, even terrorized, by the corrupt and crooked Western empire. All that France 24 kept showing, I have been habitually witnessing with my own eyes. And more, much more, from many different angles. I have filmed it, written about it, and analyzed it. In many countries, all over the world, people have been sharing their stories with me. I have seen barricades, photographed and filmed injured bodies, as well as tremendous revolutionary enthusiasm and excitement. I have also witnessed betrayals, treasons, cowardice. But in the lounge, in front of the television set, everything appeared pretty groovy, very classy, and comforting. The blood looked like a well-mixed color, the barricades like a stage of the latest Broadway musical. People were dying beautifully, their shouts muted, theatrical. The elegant anchor in a designer dress was beaming benevolently, whenever people on the screen dared to show some powerful emotions, or were grimacing in pain. She was in charge, and she was above all of this. In Paris, London and New York, powerful emotions, political commitments and grand ideological gestures, were made outdated, already a long time ago. During just the few days that I spent in Paris, many things have changed, on all the continents. The Hong Kong rioters were evolving; beginning to set on fire their compatriots simply because they dared to pledge their allegiance to Beijing. Women were unceremoniously beaten, with metal bars, until their faces were covered in blood. In Lebanon, the big clenched fists of the pro-Western regime-change Otpor were suddenly at the center of the anti-government demonstrations. The economy of the country was collapsing. But the Lebanese ‘elites’ were burning money, all around me, all around Paris and all around the world. Poor Lebanese Misérables, as well as the impoverished middle class, were demanding social justice. But the rich of Lebanon were mocking them, showing. They had it all figured out: they have robbed their own country, then left it behind, and now were having a great ball here, in the “City of Lights”. But to criticize them in the West has been taboo; forbidden. Political correctness, the mighty Western weapon used to uphold the status quo, has made them untouchable. Because they are Lebanese; from the Middle East. A good arrangement, isn’t it? They are robbing their fellow Middle Easterners, on behalf of their foreign masters in Paris and Washington, but in Paris or London, it is taboo to expose their ‘culture’ of debauchery. In Iraq, the anti-Shi’a and therefore anti-Iranian sentiments have been dispersed, powerfully and clearly, from abroad. The second big episode of the so-called Arab Spring. Chileans have been fighting and dying, trying to depose a neo-liberal system, forced down their throats ever since 1973 by the Los Chicago Boys. The Bolivian socialist government, successful, democratic and racially inclusive, has been overthrown, by Washington and Bolivian treasonous cadres. People have been dying there, too, on the streets of El Alto, La Paz, and Cochabamba. Israel was at it again, in Gaza. Full force. Damascus was bombed. I went to film the Algerians, Lebanese and Bolivians; people who were pushing for their agendas at the Place de la Republique. I anticipated the horrors that were waiting for me, soon; in Chile, Bolivia and Hong Kong. I was writing, feverishly. While the television set was humming. People were entering and leaving the lounge, meeting and separating, laughing, shouting, crying and making up. Nothing to do with the world. The outbursts of indecent laugher erupted periodically, even as the bombs were exploding on the screen, even as the people were charging against the police and the military. *** Then, one day, I realized that nobody really gives a damn. Like that; so simple. You witness what happens, all over the world; you document it. You are risking your life. You are getting engaged. You get injured. Sometimes you come close, extremely close, to death. You do not watch TV. Never, or almost never. You appear on the television, yes; you supply stories and images. But you never watch the results; what emotions your work, your words and images, truly evoke. Or do they evoke any emotions at all? You only work for the anti-imperialist media outlets, never for the mainstream. But for whomever you work for, you have no clue what the facial expressions your reports from the war zones are arousing. Or what emotions any war zone reports stir. And then, you are in Paris, and you have some time to watch your readers, and suddenly you understand. You get it: why so few are writing to you, support your struggle, or even fight for the countries being destroyed, decimated by the empire. When you look around, observing people who are sitting in a hotel lounge, you clearly realize: they feel nothing. They want to see nothing. They understand nothing. France 24 is on, but it is not a news channel, which it was intended to be, many years ago. It is entertainment stuff, which is supposed to produce sophisticated background noise. And it does. Precisely that. Same as the BBC, CNN, Fox and Deutsche Welle. *** As the legitimately elected socialist President of Bolivia was being forced into exile, tears in his eyes, I got hold of the remote control, and switched channel to some bizarre and primitive cartoon network. Nothing changed. The expressions on the faces of some twenty people around me did not change. If a nuclear bomb would have exploded on the screen, somewhere in the Sub-Continent, no one would pay any attention. Some people were taking selfies. While I was describing the collapse of the Western culture on my MacBook. All of us were busy, in our own way. Kashmir, West Papua, Iraq, Lebanon, Hong Kong, Palestine, Bolivia and Chile were on fire. So, what? Ten meters away from me, an American businessman was shouting into his phone: “Are you going to invite me back to Paris in December? Yes? We have to discuss details. How much am I getting per day?” Coups, uprisings, riots, all over the world. And that plastic, professional smile of the lady, the news announcer, in her blue and white retro designer dress; so confident, so French, and so endlessly fake. *** Lately, I keep wondering whether the inhabitants of Europe and North America have any moral right to control the world. My conclusion is: definitely not! They do not know, and they do not want to know. Those who have power are obliged to know. In Paris, Berlin, London, New York, individuals are too busy admiring themselves, or ‘suffering’ from their little, selfish problems. They are too busy taking selfies, or being preoccupied with their sexual orientation. And of course, with their ‘business’. That is why I prefer to write for Russian and Chinese outlets, to address people who are scared like myself, anxious about the future of the world. The editors of this magazine, in faraway Moscow, are; they are anxious and passionate at the same time. I know they are. I, and my reports, are not some ‘business’ for them. People whose cities are smashed, ruined, are not some sort of entertainment in the editorial room of NEO. In many Western countries, people have lost their ability to feel, to get engaged, and to fight for a better world. Because of this loss, they should be forced to give up their power over the world. Our world is damaged, scarred, but is tremendously beautiful and precious. It is not a business, to work for its improvement and survival. Only great dreamers, poets and thinkers can be trusted, fighting for it, steering it forward. Are there many poets and dreamers amongst my readers? Or do they look, do they behave, as those guests in the hotel lounge in Paris, in front of the screen beaming France 24?

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captaindeanwinchesterforever · 5 years

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Surprise, Mother Fucker...

Just to be clear, this is the first fanfic I have written for Supernatural. This one shot ends on a cliff hanger and I plan one writing a second part whether people read it or not. Writing fanfic has given me life and it is a new addiction. I would really like some feedback from those of you who read it.

Summary: Dean and Sam are running from Lucifer and they are forced to leave you behind. It’s okay though, because you have a plan...

Pairing: eventual Lucifer x reader (ft. Sam, Dean and a little bit of Cas)

Warnings: language and torture

Words: 1,668

There I was chained by the wrists and ankles to a steel chair. My body was littered with deep cuts, burn marks, and bruises. I had lost count of how many days since I had been captured and tortured. It felt like an eternity, but if I had to guess it had probably been about two or three days. I was being tortured for some information that was important to a certain archangel. The information was crucial to his evil plan to take over the world. He sounded like any other villain you hear about in comic books or movies except this guy, he was the Devil.

Four Days Earlier

“You and Sam have to get out of here!” I yelled at Dean. The Winchester brothers were my whole world. Sam and Dean were the only family I had, and I loved them with all my heart. I met them five years ago on a hunt for a ghost and ever since then we had been a family.

“(Y/N) we are not leaving you here to clean up our mess! You know for a fact he is going to come after you to get to us.” Dean argued. Lucifer has been searching for the brothers for a while now. Sam and Dean were apparently the true vessels for Lucifer and Michael and there was supposed to be some huge smackdown, drag out fight between the two of them. If you asked me it was just a bunch of family drama that went too far.

“Dean you have no other choice than to leave. Lucifer is going to find you both if you don’t. He will kill you and probably torture Sam until he says yes to him.” I said trying to convince them to leave.

“He will do anything to get whatever information he wants and then some. That means torture (Y/N) and I don’t know if I can have that over my head. We love you and we can’t put you in harm’s way just because of some fucked up destiny shit.” At this point Dean has me wrapped in his arms.

“It’s going to be okay, I promise. I love you both so much and I need you both to leave.” Dean had let go of me and I found myself in a huge bear hug only Sam could give.

“I’m so sorry (Y/N). We never meant to put you in this situation. Just know that we will come back for you. We aren’t leaving you behind.” Sam was telling me this while kissing the top of my head.

I pushed myself out of his arms, “No! You have to stay away! Neither of you can come looking for me. Lucifer will be counting on that and you will be playing into his plan. Please promise me that no matter what happens you both will not look for me.” At this point I had begun to cry, and I could see tears starting to form in Sam and Dean’s eyes.

“I promise everything is going to be okay. Now go!” I had said while trying to hold back my tears. It hurt like hell to see Dean and Sam pack up their stuff and drive off in Dean’s Impala, but it was for the best.

A day later, just like clockwork, there he was Lucifer himself in front of me in my apartment.

“Hello there little one.” Lucifer said with that devilish smile I had seen so many times before. “I think you know what I’m here for and I’m guessing you aren’t going to give it up willingly.” I looked at him with a cocky smirk and shook my head no. The next thing I knew I was chained to a steel chair in what I guessed was Hell.

Present Day

I was physically and psychologically exhausted. I had been beaten, burned, and cut with every kind of knife you could imagine. Lucifer thought it was funny watching me scream while he burned my skin with an iron rod that had been sitting in a fire. He would have his goons slice and dice my skin and then beat the ever loving shit out of me. The worst part about it was when he was done torturing me for the day, he would use his grace to heal me so torturing me would be more pleasurable for him. Let’s just say I wasn’t enjoying my stay in Hell.

I was slouched over in my chair when I heard someone opening the door to the room they were holding me in. His hand grabbed a fist full of my hair and yanked it up where I was looking at him. It was Lucifer of course.

“You look like shit. You know, if you just give me the information I desire all of this torture will stop.” Lucifer was so cocky. He had a permanent smirk on his face.

“It’s nice to see you too dear. What’s on the agenda today? A little bit of slicing or a beating made with love? Oh, oh, I know maybe a nice hot branding of my skin.” I sarcastically responded to him. He didn’t enjoy my jokes and he had done something I had never seen him do before. He was so furious at me that his eyes started to glow a bright red. I was surprised that, that didn’t scare me. I just stared into his eyes and smiled. “Oh, that glowing red eye trick looks good on you. Very sexy.” I was pretty sure he was going to kill me, but he didn’t.

“You are testing my patience (Y/N)! I want to know where those lovely Winchester brothers are and one way or another you are going to tell me!” he is inches from my face and all I did was stare into his eyes.

“I have been telling you this the whole time, I. DO. NOT. KNOW. They left and didn’t say where they were going. You know I’m telling the truth because you can read my thoughts and I’m pretty sure you have been inside my head.” After mentioning that, he glared at me. He knew I was right, but he was curious about something else. He had backed himself away from me and started pacing in front of me.

“Okay maybe I have been going through that pretty little head of yours, but I am convinced that deep down you have a pretty good idea of where they would run off to. I am curious about one other thing though. Normally people see me, and they are terrified. They cower in my presence, but you, you don’t fear me. You are a peculiar little human. I have to admit I’m a little drawn to you for some reason. I was even drawn to you the many times we met before this.” Lucifer was whispering this to me. His lips ghosted over my ear.

“Well I would say I’m flattered but you being the Devil and all… On a serious note, one of the reasons I am not scared of you is because that is what you feed off of. People’s fear is what gets you excited and fuels your inner bitch. You are nothing but a coward and deep down you know that. In order for you to feel powerful you have to terrify people and that is so sad that it almost makes me feel sorry for you. Do you wanna know the other reason I’m not scared of you? Because I can see your wings Lucifer and I have a feeling you know what that means.”

The boys, Cas, and I had just gotten back from having a run in with Lucifer. We were almost killed, but there was something weird going on. I couldn’t understand why I could see Lucifer’s wings. When we fighting for our lives I looked around to Cas, Sam, and Dean and it seemed like they weren’t able to see his wings. They were beautiful. The top of them were white and as they progressed down to the tips they faded into black. I’m guessing that’s where they had gotten burnt when he fell from Heaven. I didn’t want to startle Cas with this question, so I waited a couple of days to ask it. I had a pretty good idea of what it meant though.

“Cas, I have a question.”

“What is it (Y/N)?”

“Is it possible for angels to have soulmates?” he was caught off guard by this question.

“Yes, it is possible for an angel to have a soulmate. Their soulmates are normally humans. The only way the human knows that their soulmate is an angel is because they can see their wings, but no one else can.” Castiel was very curious as to why I would ask this, so he asked me why I was so curious.

“I got curious the other day about soulmates, so I did some research and one of the lore books mentioned that angels have soulmates, but that was all it said.” I tried to hide the shock I was feeling off of my face.

I couldn’t believe I had a soulmate and what was more shocking was that it was Lucifer.

All Lucifer could do was stare at me. No words came out of his mouth and the lack of words did worry me a little bit.

“What did you just say?” Lucifer asked with disbelief on his face.

“I’m not scared of you because I am your soulmate. I can see your wings Lucifer. They are white at the top but then they start to fade to black as they go down to the tips of them. Am I wrong?”

Lucifer was trying to process what he had just heard. He stood in front of me with a blank stare and then he turned his back to me and hastily walked out of the room.

“Well that was awkward. I think I just ruined his evil plan.”

Part Two Here

#lucifer x reader #lucifer fanfiction #lucifer #supernatural #luci #supernatural lucifer #surprise mother fucker #SPN #spnfandom #SPNFamily #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #lucifer fanfic

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teacoffeeandwhatnot · 5 years

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The Gay Agenda - Chapter 5

Look at me, actually uploading when I said I would oml! Chapter 5 is here, and its Jren.

Please keep in mind, sentences written in Italic is what is being said by the panel, or people in the studio. Normal text is what is happening otherwise.

As always, also available on my Ao3!

(if you want me to tag you every time i update, please dont hesitate to message me and I’ll add it in the next chapter)

“Our next contestant is Choi M-“

“Holy shit, is that Minki?!” Jeonghan interrupts Holland, jumping out of his seat to get a better look at the screen in front of them.

“Uhh, yes, do you know him?” Holland questions.

“Yeah, shit, he’s my cousin. I don’t know why I didn’t think of him for this show, he’s like a lover of all things gay. Also, he already works here so it’s perfect.”

“Well then, I guess I can save myself the introduction,” Holland laughs. “Do you happen to know what his type is?”

“Oh yeah, for sure. He’s into like super nerdy guys which is kind of ironic because, even though he works in the freaking comic book store, he could not be less interested in them.”

“Ah, well then it should be easy to find someone that’s his type then, I guess. Let’s see how he gets on.”

He knows he should really be spending his money on better things as a 23-year-old, but Jonghyun can’t help himself, so he finds himself on the bus for his weekly visit to the comic book store. It also has nothing to do with the pretty shop clerk whom he has successfully avoided talking to for weeks now, nope. Nothing at all. He totally doesn’t spend half his time there staring at him, and not the comic books. Definitely not.

Ever since the new guy has started working there, his visits to the store have become significantly more nerve wracking and he finds his hands sweating a worrying amount every time he pushes the door open. He really needs to get his shit together.

He walks straight to the Haikyu section, deliberately not looking towards the counter, where he knows the beautiful boy is. He knows his name is Minki, having glanced at his name tag out of the corner of his eye last time, when he had been busy ringing up another costumer.

Even though he only glanced in his direction for about half a second through the glass door before entering, he is still hyperaware of Minki, slouching over the counter, looking bored out his mind, sucking on a goddamn lollipop. He also belatedly realizes that Minki seems to be the only employee here, which means that, if he wants to buy something, he will inevitably have to talk to him. Which is generally a good thing, forcing him to finally have a conversation, but he’s also scared shitless. He knows he gets all stuttery and awkward when faced with pretty people he may or may not have a small (massive) crush on, so there is probably a high chance he’s going to embarrass himself. For a second he considers just not buying anything and high tailing it out of the store, before he realizes how stupid that is. He gives himself a short mental pep-talk before finally deciding to get his shit together, picks up the book he wants and makes his way towards the counter. Previously he had always waited, sometimes agonisingly long, until Minki was busy or went on break and his co-worker took over, before he went to the counter, as to avoid the situation he was in now.

He placed his book on the counter, finally managed to look up and made direct eye contact with Minki for the first time. He was frozen for a minute, lost in the man’s eyes before he was shaken out of his stupor.

“Only this then?” Minki asked.

“Uh, y-yeah.” Jonghyun mentally cursed at himself for the little stutter and cleared his throat. “Just this one today,” he managed, trying to sound a little more confident and not like his legs were about to give in any second.

“So have you finally decided to stop avoiding me then?” Jonghyun’s head snapped up from where he lowered it again, staring at Minki with a panicked expression, who was smirking at him with a knowing smile.

“What? I was not- I’m not- I didn’t…,” he stuttered, trying to come up with a reasonable explanation.

“Dude, literally every time you’re here you stare holes into the side of my head but you never come up to the counter when I’m here and always wait till Minhyun is at the counter or I’m busy. I feel a little bit offended to be honest, what do you have against me? I don’t bite.”

Minki says all of this with a smirk on his face, so Jonghyun knows he isn’t mad, (and mortifyingly probably knows why Jonghyun was staring) but he can’t help but feel faint.

“I wasn’t staring at you.” Minki cocks his head, giving him a ‘you’ve got to be shitting me’ expression. “I just admire those posters behind the counter.”

“Sure you do, my dude, sure you do.” Jonghyun doesn’t think his face will ever return to its natural colour, destined to stay permanently crimson at this point. He realizes that Minki is almost done ringing up his book and with that his time actually talking to him will be over soon. Scrambling to keep the conversation going, he asks, “Uh, so I’ve been looking for a new series, preferably something similar to Haikyu, so like sports and rivalries, etc. do you have any recommendations?”

Minki shrugs, “No idea, dude, I’ve never read a manga in my life. I can ask my colleague though and let you know?”

Jonghyun belatedly realizes his mouth is hanging open in shock and quickly closes it.

“What do you mean you’ve never read one, you work in a comic book store?”

“Yeah, because my cousin, whether he admits it or not, is a sucker who would do anything for me, and he knows the owner so he got me the job. I’m a broke college student, I take what I can get. ”

“Fucking brat,” Jeonghan mumbles under his breath.

Up until this point, Jonghyun had been convinced that Minki was perfect and most definitely the love of his life, but this could not be overlooked. This was a major character flaw that needed to be corrected immediately.

“Ok, but like that’s unacceptable. I’m sorry, but you have no choice, you have to be educated. I will sacrifice my precious time and be your teacher, out of the goodness of my heart.”

(Minki honestly couldn’t believe that it could’ve gone any better. Whether he knew it or not, the cute customer had done his whole job for him, and he didn’t even need to come up with some bullshit excuse to spend more time with him. He was going to win, for sure.)

“I’ll let you educate me under two conditions.”

“Ok? And those would be?”

“One, we go find a café and have a drink while you tell me all about your little… books.”

Jonghyun made a face. For one at the comment about his ‘little books’ and secondly out of confusion. Wouldn’t it make more sense for him to educate Minki in the comic book store, so he could provide examples?

“Uh sure I guess, I mean here would be better, but if you want. And the second one?”

“You have to tell me your name,” Minki grinned. “So far I’ve only been calling you Onibugi in my head.”

Once again, Jonghyun felt his face heat up. Minki had been calling him a nickname in his head? For how long? Did this mean that he would also think about him? This was lowkey too much information for him to handle all at once.

“O-onibugi? Why?”

“Cuz you kinda look like one, don’t you think?” Minki squished his cheek and Jonghyun was ready to die then and there.

They decided to go to a little ice cream parlour on the second floor of the mall, since Minki said he was craving a milkshake, and who was Jonghyun to deny him. The entire 3 minute walk there, Jonghyun could help but sneak glances at Minki’s side profile. His long hair swished gracefully back and forth as he was walking and Jonghyun really had to fight every nerve in his body to not give into his urge to run his fingers through it and see how soft it really was. The first time Jonghyun had seen Minki, he had thought that he was a girl, quickly proven wrong when Minki had called out to his co-worker in a voice too deep for a girl and called him hyung. Now, Jonghyun had never really thought about his sexuality in depth, so he probably would’ve fallen in love with Minki no matter if he was a girl or a boy, but he was kind of relieved that Minki had been a boy, since in his opinion, girls are even more terrifying to talk to than guys. Or so he had thought. Minki seemed intimidating no matter what, hence the long time it took him to start talking to him.

Arriving at the café, they quickly found a small table for two in the corner and scanned the menu.

“You want to share a milkshake?” Minki asked.

Considering Jonghyun could barely get through a conversation with him, he doubted he would survive sharing a drink with the other.

“Uh, no, I’m good, you get your own drink. I’ll pay.”

“Aww Jonghyunnie, that’s not what I meant, but thanks! So generous.”

The obvious flirting that Minki sends his way completely flying over his head, Jonghyun launches into a speech about Haikyu as soon as they get their drinks.

“Ok so, I don’t know where to begin. Let me just tell you the plot first, I think that’ll help you understand how awesome it is. So basically it’s about this guy who joins the volleyball team of this formerly prestigious high school and he’s like obsessed with this other player who is like the star player of this team and was basically like a jump god for them, so he trains all the time to try and become like him. He ends up…” Jonghyun trails off when he looks up and realizes that Minki doesn’t seem to be listening to him at all, but is rather just staring at his mouth. Self-consciously he rubs over his lips, thinking he might’ve gotten some of his milkshake somewhere on his face.

“Minki, are you even listening to me?”

“Huh? Oh yeah, sure I am.”

Jonghyun isn’t completely convinced, but continues trying to convince Minki that comics are the best thing in this world and that he is missing out.

“Ok well he ends up clashing really hard with this setter – how much do you know about volleyball by the way? Actually it doesn’t really matter – so anyways he clashes with this setter is also like a really good player so everyone calls him king, but he’s more like a tyrant, I guess? And yeah –“ Suddenly, there are lips on his. He was so engrossed in his speech he hadn’t realized that Minki had gotten closer, lifted his chin up and just planted one on him.

It was over way too quickly, Jonghyun hadn’t even closed his eyes and he just ended up stupidly blinking at Minki when he pulled back, with his mouth slightly open.

All of a sudden, all the pieces in his head seem to align. Holy shit, Minki had been flirting with him this entire time.

“Holy shit, you were flirting with me this entire time.”

Minki let out a loud laugh. “I’m glad you finally caught on, I thought I couldn’t make it more obvious. I mean I flat out told you I have zero interest in comics and yet I still listened to you ramble for like an hour. I felt like I had to help you along a little bit.”

Jonghyun scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “Yeah sorry, I get really into it when I talk about comics… also like… you’re beautiful? I thought you’d never go for someone like me. I mean, you could have anyone.”

“Not go for someone like you? What, you mean a cute, nerdy, hot guy with a deep voice? How the fuck could I not go for you?”

Before he could blush and stutter some more, Minki leaned in again and this time Jonghyun was prepared. He managed to close his eyes, kiss back and even cup the side of Minki’s face. He couldn’t believe that this was happened and inwardly cursed at himself for not talking to the cute clerk earlier.

Later, when they’re walking back to the comic book store hand in hand, Minki’s phone goes off.

“Oh hey Jeonghan, how are you?” “My cousin,” he mouths in Jonghyun’s direction.

“Sooooooooooooooo?”

“So, what, Jeonghan?”

“Soooo does it live up to all your day dreams and on a scale of 1-10, how good of a kisser is Jonghyun?”

“WAIT, WHAT? HOW THE FUCK DO YOU KNOW?”

Pt. 4

#bts #suju #shinee #wanna one #stray kids #seventeen #nct #exo #nuest #got7 #monsta x #history #day6 #teacoffeeandwhatnot #the gay agenda au

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canonicallysoulmates · 6 years

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I watched this years SDCC panel. I learned nothing new about s14.

Let’s jump into it; this are just going to be my opinions on the panel btw, I’ll do a separate post about some of the sdcc interviews later once I get the chance to watch them. So if there’s anything “big” that was discussed at the panel but is not mentioned here (ie. Sam’s leadership role) it’s most likely cause I already know it was discussed with more info in an interview.

Before the panel there was a teaser clip of s14 that I have not come across, if you know where I can see it let me know, and there was also a montage before the panel and that I did see.

It was actually pretty well done, they managed to make s13 look good...with the exception of the Dean/Lucifer fight scene but there’s no saving that scene. The song they used is beautiful, I loved it.

And I really liked the...I have no idea what exactly it’s called I guess it can be considered a poster that they showed at the end, I find it pretty, and I love how Sam looks in it with the scruff:

(this should have been the poster for s14 lbr)

It almost makes you think s14 is going to be good don’t it?

The panel itself, just like last year barely had any information relevant to the upcoming season. I will be fair and say if you don’t watch regular j2 con panels and follow the fandom then perhaps the little information given will be new for you but for someone like me, who does watch the regular con panels and follows along, the information given is not anything I didn’t already know.

I believe I had commented this before, but I was really hoping that SDCC would give me some sort of information of s14 that would make me excited and look forward to it, and I still have to check out the interviews so maybe I’ll find something there, but this panel did the opposite, I want to watch s14 even less. Dabb, Singer and BuckLemming sound like they have no clue where they’re going this season; I actually still don’t know why BuckLemming were at the panel when they contributed so little, and Dabb even looked as if he didn’t want to be there, which I completely understand because I didn’t want him there either.

Speaking off, I hate the way Dabb and BuckLemming answer questions, they answer without answering in the most annoying way.

Like near the beginning of the panel Dabb was asked what it’s like crafting the show, balancing what Dean is as a character vs. what he becomes possessed by Michael and his answer is: “I think when he was possessed by Michael he is Michael. Dean is there and he’s aware of what’s going on but he’s not really coming to the fore so Dean’s Michael”

That to me is not an answer to the question he was given, and it’s a repeat of what Jensen said as an answer to a previous question: that Dean is riding shotgun, Michael’s driving the car.

(I did like Richards follow up question, and I feel like he pointed something out Dabb might not have realized: “But in terms of the rhythm and like the word choices when you guys are working with the writers and developing that character there’s obviously- Michael’s gonna have a different entire pattern of speech and word choice than Dean I would assume; so that goes into a struggle does any of Dean ever seep out? is there ever a mix of the two in this creation?”)

BuckLemming [and Dabb-Singer] were asked: what’s michael’s plan? what’s his agenda?

Buckner tried to pass the question on to Lemming then Lemming passed the question back on to Buckner and I’m gonna rough summarize his reply and leave a timestamp if you want to listen to the whole thing cause he gave a long-ish answer and I am not going to listen to it 20x just to transcript it:

That Michael’s agenda was in a long list of do not reveals. That we saw what he did to his world and that he’s curious as to what humans want and that we’re going to see him recruiting people for his team and that it’s going to unfold very quickly in the first few episodes. TIMESTAMP

You really gotta listen to it to understand why I say this man sounds as if he has no clue what Michael’s agenda is; and I’m calling bs on that being on a ‘do not reveal’ list cause these questions are pre-approved. And he pretty much revealed what Michael’s plan was going to be anyways: Apocalypse!world 2.0.

The panel was asked about the longevity of the show: about what they think it is that makes the recipe still work, still stay fresh (they’re re-doing a storyline from s5, oh yeah they’re real “fresh”), and still engaging fans.

Lemming’s answer:

“we bring everybody to the brink of something, we push all our characters to where they think they can’t go any further and somehow on the other side of that they are redeemed. i think there’s a lot about redemption and loyalty. Whenever you see loyalty you see betrayal, so this are sort of time honored themes that we play with in the bodies of real likable and available characters that everybody loves.”

Lady what the fuck are you talking about? Since when is this show about redemption? If anything the whole betrayal schtick is one of the most tiring things of this show, also ‘whenever you see loyalty you see betrayal’ what kind of bs...

And ‘likable and available characters that everybody loves’? I can think of a good number of characters from this show that I don’t love.

By the way Buckner’s answer to this question was also 🙄. TIMESTAMP

I did like Alex's and Jensen's answer to this question.

On a more positive note cause I don’t hate everybody’s ways of answering questions, y’all already know I absolutely love the way j2 do it and yes j2 were wonderful but I actually want to talk about, Alex! I am liking this kid more and more, and I really liked the answer he gave when asked about how his characters relationship with Sam and Dean will change now that Castiel will (supposedly) be taking on a more parental role in the absence of Dean:

“Well what’s really cool about this show is you know I guess kinda like Scooby-Doo is you can break up the relationships and you guys can kinda like have different people go on a journey so you know investigate this part of the...you know the mansion- I don’t know. But for me and Cas it’s very cool that we get to have this kinda sustained celestial bond, but I think the ultimate thing is getting Dean back, that’s I think everyone’s kinda drive and motivation we wanna get him back into the fold.”

That is such a professional way to say Jack wants his other dad back 😂

But really I did like how he answered the question and I like the way the question was worded too:

“Your relationship with Sam and Dean last year was very much-they were very much paternal figures to you since you sorta come into the world. Castiel seems to be falling into that role a little bit as the season begins here, especially in the absence of Dean so where do you see your relationship going with Sam and Dean now? How does the Cas parental role change your relationship with Sam and eventually Dean?”

There was talk of the 300th episode, Singer is set to direct it, Jared said Jensen wants the 300th episode to feature the boys in togas, which would be a hell of fun to see but that’s all the info that was given. It seems Dabb is going to be the one writing it, which god help us; I will say I was not amused by Singer saying Dabb has a plan but he hasn’t told him what it is yet cause I don’t trust that man and I already think there’s a severe communication problem in that writing room.

Random thoughts:

Jared saying Jensen’s Michael performance gave him chills ❤️

Jensen’s coat flip 😂

I hope the writers don’t ruin Sam and Jack’s relationship simply to squeeze in Castiel

"the show hasn't lost its energy, it hasn't lost its steam, it hasn't lost it's unique energy that attracts the fans" - Richard before asking about the show’s longevity. I disagree with this opinion.

Dabb has got to let WS go. You tried, you failed, let it go!

Overall, I found the panel boring and kinda forgettable, it wasn’t even funny like last years was; if you’re looking for s14 information, you can find it summarized online and there’s more info in the interviews. I don’t think you’re gonna lose much if you skip on this panel, but I also don’t think you’re gonna lose much if you do watch it.

Supernatural 2018 SDCC Panel

Supernatural Montage

#spn negative #spn critical #anti bucklemming #anti andrew dabb #anti castiel #just slightly #mine #spn sdcc

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