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certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 3 years

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Parker

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Genre: AU

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: There’s a new Spider person in town and it’s not Parker.

A/N: This is a continuation of the Parker story that I posted last year. I’m sorry to everyone who reads and likes my ff, I’m very slow when it comes to writing. I’ve been feeling down for a while and now I’ve decided to try and work on stories that I was already in the process of writing. So hopeful I’ll do better in time. Also I don’t live in NY so streets and stuff might not always be correct. Also I can’t spell half the time and spell check doesn’t always catch things and sometimes I miss words for a sentence to make sense, I never reread my writing I just didn’t in school and so I don’t really do it now, SORRY!!

You’ve reached the phone number of (Y/n) (L/n) please leave a message at the tone of the beep...

Peter groaned as he tried to reach you for the third time wondering when you will be home since you had to work on a chemistry project with him. Even though you weren’t the best in the science area you said you didn’t want Peter to do all the work on his own. You told him to come to your house around 4, but it was now 6:30 and he didn’t know when you would be home. Your aunt allowed him to stay in your room until you came back, he thought it was a little weird she didn’t really seem that worried about where you were.

As Peter looked around your room, he realized that he didn’t know that much about you. All he knows is that you transferred from a different state to New York to live with some distant relative in 8th grade. The both of you would have small encounters with just a small smile here or a quiet ‘hi’ there if you were sitting next to each other.

Then out of the blue one day during sophomore year, you just sat down at the same table as him during study hall.

---

Peter was working on his calculus homework having not finished the night before, having to focus on his chemistry homework and then having a tiny project for World History, which he had to do all by himself because no one else chose to help him out. He didn’t stress himself too much about the homework, his brain worked fast enough to understand the problems plus his class was after lunch and if he didn’t finish now he’ll just finish then. He was brought out of his thoughts of fast working math problems and numbers, when a loud thud sounded through the library and even louder when it was placed in front of him at his table. He heard the librarian shush the person from her desk.

“Sorry” the person responsible replied back loud enough for only Peter to hear.

Peter looked up to come face to face with the culprit. They looked disheveled, their hair a bit of a mess, their shirt had a couple of stains in different colors on the front. They just had a simple jean jacket covering them from the slight autumn breeze of Queens, New York. You seemed to have noticed Peter’s gaze on your face having turned towards him with a bashful expression on your face.

“Sorry, sometimes I don’t know my own strength.” you said quietly.

“No problem” Peter said with a light smile on his lips.

“I’m (Y/n)” you outstretched your hand for a shake.

“Peter” he said, grabbing your outstretched hand.

---

7:13pm

‘There seems to be no more crime happening at the moment’

“Okay, well I guess it’s time for me to head home then. At least I have far less bruises than normal so it’s not gonna be a big deal when I get home, I don’t want to have to sit through another lecture.” you rolled your eyes behind the mask on your face covering your features.

‘You seem to have missed a phone call, you have one voicemail from a Peter Parker’

“Hey (Y/n)...um I’m at your house right now waiting for you so we can work on our project. I’ve been here for about two hours now and it's getting late so I’m probably gonna end up leaving since my aunt is probably waiting for me to get home. I guess I’ll just see you tomorrow at school. Okay, bye (Y/n).”

“Crap! I forgot about the project, Peter’s probably upset with me.” you sighed and decided to call Peter.

Nothing. You called again. Nothing. Again and again. Nothing. You tried five times and he never answered, a part of you thinks he’s probably just ignoring you for standing him up. The other part worries that he could be in trouble right now. It is Queens.

“Hey Karen can you do another sweep of the city? Any type of crimes or assaults happening at the moment?” worry lacing your voice hoping nothing is or happened to Peter, sweet Peter.

‘There is no crime at the moment (Y/n)’

“Can you search for Peter Parker? Can you give me his current location?” you ask with a slight shake to your questions.

‘Peter Parker is currently on the streets of 7th and Jefferson ave’

He’s not that far away from me you thought to yourself with a sigh.

You were only a few buildings away from Peter so you lept from rooftop to rooftop, sitting nicely on top of an apartment building's roof looking down onto the passerbyers, everyone in their own world and minding their business. As you were watching everyone walk by you kept your eyes open for Peter, even though he did look like every normal teenage boy with brown curly hair from atop, he did have little charms on his backpack; for one being a Ironman POP! Figure keychain for the opening of the big pocket.

---

You were walking down the halls of Midtown trying to find your locker on the first day of sophomore year. It was kinda difficult with everyone walking to and fro not minding you any time or stepping out of the way just a little.

‘Rude’

Just as you found your locker someone ran into you causing you to drop the notebooks and textbooks out of your arms, dropping to the floor with a loud thud. You just scuffed yourself and chose to open your locker first so you don’t have to deal with the weight in your arms. After trying your combination for a third time and nothing happening, you just leaned your head against the metal doors and just sighed out through your nose to try and keep yourself calm and not cause tears or your fist to hit the metal.

“Um...sorry to bother you, but do you need help?” Someone beside you asked timidly and quietly.

You looked up from the floor being face to face with someone who was kneeling beside you on the ground stacking some of your textbooks onto each other. He was a boy around your age with a delicate sprinkle of freckles dotting his face. He had glasses on the bridge of his nose and eyes that looked to be brown colored, but it wasn’t his eye color it was the way his eyes looked at you that drew you in a bit. He looked a bit like a deer in headlights mixed with puppy dog eyes that were just looking into yours with some concern and maybe embarrassment coming in since you were taking a long time to answer him and was just staring at a stranger.

You blinked out of your stupor and smiled at him and asked if he could try and place your locker combination for you. Because if you tried one more time and it didn’t work you might actually punch it. The boy smiled at you and was able to open your locker for you and helped hold half the textbooks.

“Thank you for helping me, since everyone else chooses to be rude.” You grumbled out the last bit.

The boy just smiled at you and said it was no problem and then he walked away probably to meet up with his friend.

---

7:35pm

You still haven’t seen Peter walking anywhere and you were just about to give up and head home when Karen alerted you to a crime in progress.

‘There is a mugging in progress two blocks from here in an alley behind a deli’

You rushed over to the position that Karen sent you and hoped that it wasn’t Peter. Well, it was Peter sadly who was on the ground and shaking with his backpack ripped open and the contents spilling out. The thug was pointing a knife at Peter and yelling at him for money.

Deciding that now was the time to intervene you shot a web to the thugs knife and yanked it out of his grasp.

“You know you shouldn’t be pointing sharp objects at people, what would your grandma have to say?”

Honestly you had to roll your eyes a bit, really (y/n)? His grandma?

You jumped down from the balcony of an apartment and landed in front of Peter blocking him from view. You rose to your full height and placed your hands on your hips, cocking to the right a bit. You turned your head to look at Peter making sure he was okay and safe for the moment, he wasn’t shaking anymore which was good, but he now was just staring wide eyed at you.

“Are you okay?” You asked him

He just nodded his head then looked to your left and pointed a finger, presumably at the thug. When your spider senses went off you just lifted both hands and grasped the thug's arm and flipped him over onto his back making him gasp for air. You then webbed him up to the balcony and had Karen call the cops.

When you were done you walked back over to Peter and knelt down to help grab his stuff off the ground and place them back into his backpack. You then held out your hand to help lift Peter off the ground. When Peter placed his hand in your grasp you might have pulled a little more than you meant causing Peter to collide with your chest and moving your arm to his waist making sure he was stable.

You both stood still in the position for a few seconds before breaking apart chuckling awkwardly. Peter rubbed his neck and you just held your hands behind your back. The silence was starting to become suffocating, so you were about to ask Peter if he wanted a ride home, but he broke the silence first.

“Thank you for what you did earlier.” Peter said quietly

“Eh, it’s no problem.” You shrugged off

You both still stood there not knowing what else to say at the moment. So Peter just took that as a cue to leave since he started to walk out the alley. That prompted you to remember what you were thinking earlier.

“Hey!” You called out to Peter

He stopped in his spot and turned around facing you.

“Would you like a ride? Or even a walking companion?”

Peter just smiled at you showing that the requests weren’t weird to him so you started to walk towards him.

“I could use a walking companion. I would take the ride suggestion, but I’m pretty sure you mean swinging on webs about 15ft or more in the sky away from the ground and I already have a bad fear of heights.” Peter rambled out

You just chuckled to yourself and walked next to him prompting the both of you to walk in silence for a while.

“So what were you doing walking by yourself? It’s never a good idea to be by yourself, especially if you don’t have some type of weapon.” You questioned

Peter didn’t answer right away so you turned to look at him and he was looking at the ground with a slight pout to his mouth. You already know he’s gonna say it was because you never showed up at your own house.

“Well I was supposed to work on a school project with a classmate at her house, but she never showed up for some reason and I was there for about three hours and I told my aunt and uncle I would be home around 8 so I just decided to leave hoping to make it home before it was really dark out. Then I was cleaning my glasses and they dropped, so I had to pull a Velma from Scooby-Doo and look for my glasses. I think the thug was hiding behind the trash or something.” Peter spoke while still looking towards the ground.

You could tell that you not showing up really hurt him, he probably thought you were just using him for a good grade and lied or something.

“Looks like I’ll be doing the project by myself like usual. I just thought that I made a friend, especially for that class since my friend Ned doesn’t share it with me.”

“Well I’m sure she didn’t bail on purpose. Maybe something she accidentally forgot.” You tried to save yourself from looking bad in Peter’s eyes.

Peter just shrugged his shoulders and the conversation ended since apparently you ended up outside of Peter’s apartment. You both turned to each, having yet another awkward silence between the both of you. You took the silence to look at Peter’s features which looked softened in the moonlight, but also harsh with the fluorescent lighting of street lamps. As you were getting lost in Peter’s details Karen rang in your ears telling you that your aunt wants you home in the next 20 minutes or you’re grounded.

“Um well Peter I got to leave, but I hope you have a good evening.” and then you salute in a flirty way at least you hope it came off like that.

As you swung off into the night, heading home to finally relax; Peter was eating dinner with his family and as he was slowly chewing his chow mein he realized what was bugging him for the past 15 minutes, he never gave you his name. He was both curious and a bit worried, worried that you might have been following for a while before tonight and curious because if you weren’t a stalker which he decided to rule out since you have to protect Queens; that means you probably know him from somewhere else. And Peter was going to find out where.

#Marvel #Marvel imagine #MCU #peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #spider-man #spider-woman #spider-man au #marvel fanfiction

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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youtube

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pilothusband · 3 years

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Abducted Amphora

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Marcus Pike x Reader

Warnings: Alcohol (not to an excess), food mention (they eat pizza), non-explicit tension, mentions of stealing shit, hints at a boss/employee relationship so there’s a slight power balance there, age gap that isn’t mentioned (he has years of service and she’s almost brand new)

Word count: 1,972

Author’s note: Written for @autumnleaves1991-blog Writer Wednesday! Lightly edited, unbeta’d. This one is pretty tame compared to my other works. Thinking about turning it into a snapshot series. Let me know what you think!

A smattering of footsteps clatter throughout the courtyard, echoing off the old walls that surround you. Sprawling greens adorn almost every inch of the balcony, reaching out to an impossibly blue pool situated in the middle. You can’t help but gawk as you walk through the museum, trailing your boss by a few paces who is currently following the curator, a middle-aged woman with bouncy curls and a wardrobe to die for.

A few minutes prior, she had introduced herself as Vanessa Harrington, given a firm handshake to the two of you, and hastily made her way to the exhibit where an expensive piece of artwork was stolen.

“What’s weird is, this isn’t even the most expensive piece the museum owns,” she says, glancing backwards and waving her hands. How she manages to walk briskly in stiletto heels without looking forwards is a mystery to you.

The stolen piece is a Panathenaic amphora from Hellenistic era Greece. It was most likely used to fill with olive oil to give to Olympic champions. Not to say it isn’t valuable, but it had sat nondescript amongst bright and flashy paintings that were incredibly rare and sought after.

“And the security cameras were disabled prior to the theft?” Your boss, Marcus Pike asks, scribbling in his notepad. Vanessa nods in confirmation. “Then they were enabled right after, as if the thieves knew how to hack into the system.”

“Either they knew how to hack into the security system or they had enough insider knowledge to disable it,” you voice your thoughts, not even aware that you were speaking out loud.

Marcus looks over to you, his warm brown eyes flicking over your face in acknowledgement.

Every time his eyes meet yours, you feel yourself freeze up for a moment. No matter that you’ve been working with him for nearly a year, it’s as if time stops every time you look at him. His jaw, square and strong, along with his soft brown eyes that give away to his emotions at any moment. His broad shoulders always manage to get your pulse going, along with his small waist, showcased by the form-fitting button downs he wore under his suit coat.

“We’re going to need all information regarding museum personnel, as well as any vendors that drop by regularly,” Marcus shifts his attention over to Vanessa, who nods decisively.

“Absolutely. I have that all on my office desktop and can get that to you ASAP.”

Vanessa doles out more details for a few minutes and Marcus jots them down– in his unreadable handwriting no doubt– and then Vanessa bids you adieu and spins on her heel to her office, giving you two free rein over the museum.

There isn’t anymore DNA evidence to go over. The local police already had their personnel collect it days prior and the scene was spotless once you arrived. The thieves had been meticulous in leaving as little evidence as possible. The only fingerprints found were already processed and pending a match. They were most likely from an employee, and there’s a good chance it was just normal prints left behind from dusting priceless artwork.

Once Vanessa is out of the room, Marcus turns and places a big hand on your bicep.

“Good job back there, agent.” He flashes an easy grin. Marcus is an incredible boss. He’s driven, observant, kind, and knows when he has to make the tough calls. He’s a natural-born leader. You haven’t been with the bureau for long, being a junior agent among a team of seasoned professionals, but comparing him to other supervisory agents you have met, he’s warm and kind, always making sure his team is in good shape. He’s the kind of guy who’s prepared for anything, whether it be backup for a shootout with an unsub or someone in the room needs a pen before a staff meeting.

You can’t help but feel flushed at his praise. Despite Marcus’ easygoing nature and his openness with the team, he always seems to keep you at an arms’ length. It was getting to the point where you were wondering if he was regretting hiring you in the first place. Marcus often rotates the team when it comes to working directly with him on cases, and you have only worked directly with him once– your first ever case.

Initially you’re convinced you fucked up so badly that he didn’t want to pair up with you afterwards, but then the case report made its way back to your desk and your evaluation was normal, good even.

“Thank you,” you reply, ducking your face down to hide the growing heat licking its way up your face.

“Let’s grab some lunch, get those files from Mrs. Harringon and start digging.”

You nod in agreement and turn, walking towards the exit. You don’t notice the subtle movement, but Marcus trails you, arm raised as if he’s about to touch your waist, but pauses halfway through and scratches at his chin.

Later on that night, you’re holed up in Marcus’ hotel room, hunched over your laptop reading up on all of the museum employees. Marcus took on the task of reading over vendor files, his shoulders set much straighter.

Your back is screaming at you and your eyes are sapped of all moisture as you blink rapidly, trying to will your tear ducts into submission. It’s too early in the night to fall asleep with the amount of work you have to look forward to, and the longer it takes you to crack the case, the more likely the thieves are to get away with the crime.

“I think we could use a break,” Marcus says from across the room. You look up blearily, noting the look of concern he’s giving you, brow furrowed. He must have caught you in your tired state somehow, between poring over files and jiggling his leg absent-mindedly.

“Can’t argue with that,” you chuckle, rubbing at your eyes.

“I’ll order room service, compliments of the bureau,” he says, smiling sideways. “I’m feeling pizza, what do you think?”

“Pizza sounds heavenly,” you groan.

“What do you want to drink?” Marcus asks, his eyes scanning over the menu unfolded next to his laptop.

“Oh, uh,” you hesitate, trying to decide on caffeine or something healthier. “I think the room has plenty of water.”

“I was thinking something a little stronger,” he says, a small grin making its way over his features. “Nothing too crazy, since we still have work to do.”

“What’s your opinion on red wine?” You ask, wanting to select something you both can agree on.

“I love it,” he says, giving you a toothy smile. “Pinot Noir?”

“Sounds perfect.”

An hour later, you’re both seated on the floor, pizza box spread open between your bodies, munching away at the slices of pepperoni you both decided on and sharing the bottle of wine Marcus ordered.

“Turns out it’s bad optics for the boss to drunkenly sing 9 to 5 by Dolly Parton off-key, and I still get teased for it to this day, which is why I refuse to join the team on karaoke nights,” Marcus finishes. You’re clutching your stomach as you laugh at his story, head thrown back as you giggle.

You’ve only had a glass and a half of wine at this point, but you can already feel a persistent buzzing in your brain, your head feeling much lighter and much heavier simultaneously. This is what you get for skipping breakfast and lunch, opting to replace them with an afternoon snack and a late dinner.

Marcus laughs along with you, shaking his head and looking down at his slice of pizza.

Your laughter dies down and there’s a moment where it’s quiet, the only noise in the room being Marcus chewing on the crust of his pizza slice, and you taking a sip from your glass.

“This is a nice change,” you blurt out, immediately regretting your outburst.

“Mmm,” Marcus hums around the bite in his mouth. He swallows and looks up at you in question.

“What do you mean?” he asks.

Your eyes meet after he speaks and you can feel your heartbeat accelerating in your chest. God, why did you have to open your big mouth?

“Oh, nothing,” you shake your head. “It’s just…”

You don’t continue and Marcus shifts on his knees, leaning forwards to spur you on.

“It’s just what?”

“Well, I don’t know, it’s stupid.” You say, studying the box of pizza below you, as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

“Nothing you could ever say is stupid,” he says with conviction. His tone makes you look up at him in wonder.

“Tell me, please,” he adds softly.

“Well, I thought you didn’t like me. Or that you didn’t think I was a good agent.” You can feel your stomach plunging and your cheeks burning at the admission.

“Why would you think that?” Marcus almost looks hurt.

“God, it’s dumb,” you babble. “But I noticed you haven’t had me partner with you on a case in ages, and you seem to get on with the rest of the team so much easier.”

You risk another look into Marcus’ eyes and he looks absolutely crushed. He cards a hand through his locks and his eyes look far away for a moment. You physically deflate, feeling like the biggest asshole on the planet.

“Hey,” he says, scooting forward and moving the pizza box aside. “You’re an amazing agent. Everything I put in your evals are the truth.”

You don’t reply, but smile softly at him.

“I’m so sorry I’ve made you feel undervalued,” he puts a hand on your shoulder and squeezes it. The look on his face, much closer to yours now, is absolutely putting you through the ringer.

Marcus looks disheveled, which is rare for him, as he always looks put-together in the office, not a hair or thread out of place in his tailored suits. His hair is sticking up and his tie is loosened. His brow is furrowed in concern and you have the overwhelming urge to soothe your thumb over it.

“I just–,” he starts and pauses, trying to come up with the right words. “I was so distracted during that case with you, and I never want to put you in that kind of danger again. Especially as a junior agent.”

Distracted?

“What do you mean?” You ask, blinking in confusion. What could have possibly distracted him from the case? This man, so motivated, so focused. He was diligent to a fault, at times.

“I–”

He’s cut off by his cell phone, ringing insistently in his pants pocket. He lifts a finger to pause the conversation and answers the phone.

His expression is focused as he listens to the other end of the line, murmuring affirmations as the call continues.

“Okay, sounds good. We’ll be there first thing in the morning.”

He hangs up the phone, shifts his legs and stuffs it back in his pocket.

“We’ve got a lead on the suspects,” he tells you. “A bodega near the museum has a security camera that caught a large utility van parked in front, right around the time the amphora was stolen. The owner said they’re only available to talk before they open, so we have to be there by 5:30 AM.”

You scramble to your feet and shut your laptop while Marcus clears the pizza and wine. You watch him silently as he finishes the task, noting his stiff shoulders and the carefully neutral expression on his face.

You’ll have to ask Marcus about the conversation later, if you can work yourself up to it. For now, you’ll let your imagination run wild and hope someday you can get over this juvenile crush you have on your boss.

Taglist: @tenderclio @softdin @darnitdraco @freeshavocadoooo @recklessworry @wyn-dixie @manalg14 @codenamewife @comphersjost @princessxkenobi @manalg14 @comphersjost @a-skov @sheresh0y @greeneyedblondie44 @blackmarketmummy @brandyllyn @gracie7209 @bootyliciousbilbo @dobbyjen @vanillabeanlattes @knivesareout @fastandfeminist @phrog-seeds @janebby @xoxo-callie

#marcus pike #marcus pike x you #marcus pike x reader #pedro pascal #writer wednesday #marcus pike fanfiction

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internalsealpanic · 4 years

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Better Die Than Doubt

Summary: You wince knowing he’s already noticed. You feel the tiniest bit more at ease as he approaches your booth but it didn’t stop your eyes from flickering and searching for something off in the environment. The creeping sense of being watched trails up your spine. You’re sure.

A/n: To no one’s shock, this entire fic was unplanned. I was possessed by the urge to make it (translation: I got the urge to write this and one of my enablers said do it). This story should be treated more or less as a horror story. Nothing is being glorified here except how dorky Jason is. That being said, PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS. This fic contains quite a few triggering things and I really don’t want you to be blindsided. Also thanks to @knightfall05x for helping me write this whole thing. Thanks to @batarella (HOE) for action writing tips.

Warnings: graphic violence, stalking, emotional manipulation, unhealthy coping mechanisms, drugging, nongraphic description of rape, and rape aftermath

masterlist

You press the heels of your palms into your eyes. You could practically feel the oncoming headache the way you could sense someone coming down the hall. This is what happens when you’re running on just 5 hours of restless sleep for the last few days. This headache was also not helped by the fact that this was your fifth coffee in the past 30 minutes. You probably should not be drinking this much caffeine this late but intelligent decisions weren’t exactly your strong suit this week. You rub the sides of your forehead feeling another wave of nausea.

You check the time again and groan. It’s been one-and-a-half hours since your agreed upon time had lapsed and yet one Jason Peter Todd was nowhere to be seen. You curse, nerves edging, and mind fraying. To be perfectly fair to him, he is a busy guy, vigilante, and all. You understood that fairly well- and this was sudden to say the least. You can’t really fault him for being a bit late but the long wait was ratcheting up your anxiety. Again, the coffee didn’t help but considering it was the only thing you could keep down since last night, you didn’t have much choice.

Last night.

Your stomach tumbled. You cup your hand over your mouth feeling your coffee traveling back up your esophagus. You let out a long exasperated breath, letting yourself sink into the booth. You look out the window, eyes flickering wildly searching for Jason. Your hands tighten around your mug. The feeling of being watched made you bristle.

Jason, well, Jason wasn’t hard to spot. The man was 6 feet 4 inches of pure muscle and leather. Having a handsome face and a ‘fuck you’ look in his eyes also helped. In short, the man was hard to ignore. You wave weakly to him as he dismounts his bike, a gesture far too small for your usual bombastic self. Jason’s smarmy smile greets you as he returns the gesture with his gloved hand. The motion is slow and cautious, rickety in a way. You wince knowing he’s already noticed. You feel the tiniest bit more at ease as he approaches your booth but it didn’t stop your eyes from flickering and searching for something off in the environment. The creeping sense of being watched trails up your spine. You’re sure.

“Jesus, y/n, you look like Timbo” Jason chuckles sliding into the booth his green eyes shining with scrutiny. You look at him flatly not having enough energy to properly respond to his jab. He winces seeing your lack of reaction. “Rough night, huh?” He asks flagging down a waitress, who looked quite pleased to get away from her previous table.

You nod weakly, slowly as if the fact that it had been a rough couple of days had just sunk in. “Yeah,” you reply, your voice small and a little threadbare. You drum your fingers against your increasingly cold mug. The waitress sets a couple of warm mugs in front of you. Her soft smile makes you uneasy. You and Jason mutter a thanks as she tells you to wave her over if you need anything else. Her warm brown eyes boring into the stark purple bruise on your face. You shrink and smile sheepishly at her.

“I’m fi-”

“I am going to throw these sugar packets at you if you say you’re fine.”

“Damn, ok, Mr.Kettle,” You laugh. His concern startles a genuine laugh out of you. You’re sincerely surprised how lively the sound that comes out of you is. “You know if you keep sounding like that, Jay, you’re gonna wreck the whole stone-cold badass thing you got going,”

“Y/n..”

You huff running your hand through your disheveled hair, trying in vain, to soothe your mind. What was the best way to put it? You swallowed, gathering your lapsing thoughts. “Sooo uh-” The collar of your shirt suddenly felt tight around your neck. “-I-” You breathe. “-I found around 4 or 5 of Blackmask’s boys and Deathstroke-No, I’m not shitting you- in my- my apartment for- well- the third time in the last two months, can I crash at your place? Just ‘til I find a new place. Oh and also how do I get rid of them?”

He blinks as his brain takes its sweet fucking time digesting what you had just said. He leans back groaning and running his hands over his face. He looks like he’d like to deck you if he wasn’t too busy being concerned for your welfare. You shrink again, feeling bad for springing it on him. The decision to leave out the gory details of your hectic week suddenly felt like the wisest choice but you had no doubt he’ll get it out of you at some point.

“I’ll skip the obvious ‘why did you wait three times before moving’ question because I feel like I’m probably going to get an aneurysm from your answer,” Your reasoning wasn’t quite that stupid. You were mucking about Sionis’s operation. The fucker decided to branch out his little enterprise into your city and like hell, you were gonna leave well enough alone. After you had set fire to one of his warehouses, you thought that would explain the False Facers. But Deathstroke? Deathstroke was a mystery. You’ve also been mucking about his business but you two have always been civil if not friendly. Frenemies of sorts, you guessed. You’ve been encountering him a lot in the last few days. You had figured that Blackmask had hired him but considering he threw two men out of your apartment window last night, you’re not entirely sure. You make an affronted noise that Jason elects to ignore.

“What did they do?”

“Aside from necessitating a visit to IKEA? Nothing.”

“Did they take anything? Leave a message?”

“Nope, nothing-” You furrow your brow trying to recall. You shake your head. “-They just made sure I knew they broke in.” You add, shrugging your shoulder. You wince at the movement. Your shoulder still aches from being hit with a bat. Jason’s shoulders shift, moving as if to reach out to you but stops himself. Instead, he continues with his line of questioning. “Sweetheart, there’s gotta be something missing.”

You frown, biting your cheek. Jason rests his chin on his hand, green eyes watching you and urging you to think back. It was either the weight of his gaze or the lack of sleep that was making it hard to recall. You close your eyes and catalog your belongings, analyzing the mental picture you have like a crime scene like how he taught you months ago, breaking it down into the smallest pieces of information and bringing it back into a bigger picture. Still, nothing. Nothing of note was missing. You shake your head and shrug your uninjured shoulder. Jason glares at the immobile one. You shake your head silently telling him it wasn’t from last night which just made him clench his jaw.

“Evidence?”

You shake your head. He frowns baffled.

“Tech?”

You shake your head again.

“Anything personal?” He asks jokingly.

“I-” A cold horror washes over you trailed by embarrassment. Your vibrator had been missing and so were a couple of your lingerie sets. You feel your stomach drop to the floor. “Oh god, Jay- I- Please, let me stay with you.”

“And have them steal my stuff?” He chuckles.

“Please, Jay, like you have anything worth stealing.” Jason frowns at you scrutinizing your face. You level him a glare but it was more in an effort to fight down a blush than anything venomous. Jason’s jaw unclenches and his face breaks into a shit-eating grin. “What color was it?”

“Wha-”

“Bzzzzzzzt ”

If you weren’t blushing before, you are now. Heat climbs up your spine. Your mouth felt dry.

“Well, what color was it, sweetheart?” Jason drawls, his voice dropping an octave. You shiver but bristle just as quickly. You bite your cheek and glare at him. “HA. HA. HA. Funny, Todd.”

“Was it Red Hood Red?” Jason teases, winking and raising his cup of coffee to his lips.

“Nightwing blue” You deadpan. Jason coughed into his drink. You preen with satisfaction.

“Does it make stupid puns while you go at it? ”

“Yup,” You say, the ‘p’ popping. “That’s part of the appeal.” You joke smiling into your mug. Jason snorts. “How is that supposed to be sexy?”

You shrug, a sharper less tired smile cutting across your features. “Dunno man. Nightwing is pretty sexy if you ask me.” You wink.

Jason makes a fake gagging noise. Well, it seems fake with how theatrical the gesture is but with bats? You never could tell. You roll your eyes and giggle. Jason’s shoulders loosen at your bubble of laughter, his face slipping into one of his sheepish smiles. “In all seriousness, y/n, you can stay at my place.”

You smile at him, your usual fluorescent smile.

Click

A man from across the street watches you intently through the lens of a camera.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Slade throws the photos across Roman’s desk, each glossy piece of paper containing a candid photo of you looking increasingly frayed and anxious.

Roman marvels at how your usually larger than life figure shrank into your puffy coat, how small and malleable and inexperienced you looked. He notes the panicked look in your eyes in every one of the photos and savors it. He couldn't wait to see it for himself.

In one photo, you're looking over your shoulder as you enter your office building.

In one, you’re tracing circles on a child’s hand with your thumb, beaming brightly as you told some wild tale to distract the child.

In another, you're slumped in your desk chair as you think over a case looking absolutely exasperated but determined.

In yet another one, you're locking lips with a man, his hand trailing up your shirt. Roman made sure to give the man some swimming lessons a few weeks prior.

In the photo in Roman’s hand, you're at the emergency room looking like you haven't slept in 2 days. Your face was bruised and your clothes were torn in several places where Slade had managed to land a blow. Your delicate skin marred with cuts and trickling blood. Absolutely gorgeous.

He examines it closely. The photo was taken just a few hours ago. You look like you're going to cry but your shoulders and jaw are squared more frustrated than scared. There's a fire in your eyes that threatens to level the city. A thrill rides up his spine at the prospect of extinguishing it.

“This is why you wanted to throw my men out the window?”

Slade hums. He shrugs and the edge of his lips curl into a smile. “It was the only way to convince the kid that we’re both after her-” His eye drifts to your face. Appraising but impassive. “The kid’s scared out of her mind and exhausted at this point.”

Slade had a point. Roman had to give him that. It wouldn’t be obvious to the casual observer but it would be plain as day to anyone like Roman who had been studying you for a while. You weren’t quite as meticulous with your appearance as Roman thought you should be (He would work on that later) but the dishevelment in your appearance was obvious. The slight dip in your shoulders in place of the prim posture that you usually employed was a blatant indication of your weariness. And the falter in your smile, the flickering in your eyes, and the number of times you let yourself bite your cheek showed the cracks in your fearless image.

Who knew weeks upon weeks of chaos could weather Minos City’s own budding hero?

In the photo next to Roman’s hand, your laughing face is stark and lively against the drab atmosphere of the diner, bubbling laughter carving life into your exhausted features making you look more like the shining paragon your city has come to rely on. The man sitting in front of you is laughing too. The sharp edges of his grin softened by the fondness in his eyes. It was hard not to recognize him even with such a foreign expression plastered onto his face. Roman crushes the photo in his hand.

“BUT NOW SHE’S WITH THAT SCUMBAG RED HOOD”

“And she’s now with the Red Hood. In his secluded safe house. Weakened and far from help. Most likely thinking that she’s safe under his protection and blissfully unaware of the tracker I put in her arm.”

“I see… It seems like you are worth the pay.”

Slade made no effort in hiding his smug grin.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Jay, I really am sorry about this.” You mumble for what seemed like the fifth time in the past half hour.

“I sincerely hope you’re apologizing for the fact that you neglected to tell me you had bruised ribs before getting on my bike and not the fact that you’re staying with me because two crazy assholes decided your place needed remodeling.” Jason exasperates, pinching the bridge of his nose. You feel kind of annoyed by the gesture but he did have a point especially with your city’s less than smooth roads. You were also pretty banged up. As it turns out, facing off against a bunch of goons plus a master assassin is not good for your health. You swore viciously under your breath. Now, you weren’t expecting Deathstroke to go easy on you despite your rapport but the guy really didn’t have to throw you around like a rag doll. Even with your power to adjust the odds, it was a miracle that you escaped intact.

“Well, Mr.Pot, you ride your bike all the time even with broken ribs.” You bite back. Jason rolls his eyes unaffected by the distilled venom in your voice.

“Well, one of us is a stone-cold badass- ”

“And the other is a sasquatch with a stick up his ass.” You sneer snatching the beer bottle from Jason. Your tone was far too fond and playful to have any actual bite. Jason chuckles at you and ruffles your hair before snatching it back and handing you a bottle of water.

You huff taking the bottle from him and following him to the couch. He sits down on the couch patting the seat beside him. You plopped on to the couch, placing your sock feet on his lap. He grabs your ankles and throws your feet back at you. You just as quickly throw them back on and this time you do it with an absolutely delighted smirk on your face. “Rude,” He mumbles but doesn’t attempt to extricate you again.

“So Deathstroke, huh?” Jason starts, side-eyeing you over his beer. You adjust yourself to sit up a little straighter.

“You mean the asshat who broke my favorite lamp last night?”

“Who the hell has a favorite lamp?”

“Me! And get to your point.”

“Have you two- yanno?” Jason jokes, his eyebrows wiggling and hands gesturing vaguely. Your eyes grow wide and heat creeps up your neck and face. You scowl at Jason throwing a pillow at his face for good measure. He catches it with ease much to your frustration giving you his trademark triumphant grin. You kick at him with no real force.

“NO! What kind of soap opera shit is that?” You giggle into your drink. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about it before. The guy was skilled and pretty witty. You also had eyes and the man was handsome but something always felt strange about taking it further. You were civil but you kept your distance.

You pout at Jason again causing him to chuckle. “What? I’m just saying it’ll air out some tension~” He suggests winking.

“Oh my actual god, I hate you. I sincerely, truly hate you.” You laugh, kicking at his thigh. Jason makes an obviously fake hurt noise which draws out even more giggles out of you. Some tension in Jason’s shoulders releasing upon hearing the bubbly sounds.

“You speaking from experience, Jay?”

Jason shakes his head and coughs. “Catwoman-” Cough. “Talia Al Ghul-” Cough. “Sorry, sweetheart, seems like I have a really bad cough this week.”

And that is how you spend the rest of the night questioning Bruce’s love life.

“Food is in the fridge,” Jason says pointing to the said fridge which was sorely lacking magnets, sounding like a somewhat tired single parent.

“Do I look like I can keep anything down?”

Jason snatches the water bottle you had abandoned on the side table next to the recliner. “With that big mouth of yours? Sure.” Jason teases lightly booping you on the nose with your water bottle. “Get some rest.”

“Yes, mother” You sighed, burying yourself into the thick comforter he’d given you, crumpled water bottle in hand. He ruffles your hair.

“You know you’re safe here, right? ” The question startles you. You shift uncomfortably, pulling the comforter tightly around your shoulders. You shrug at him, not entirely certain how to answer. You know Jason’s safe house is, well, safe but you also thought your apartment was too. Your stomach twisted.

Jason squeezed your shoulder probably sensing the spiral of your thoughts. He smiles down at you, probably. It was hard to tell with the helmet.

“If you want, I can-”

“No, Jay, I’ll be fine here. You can go on patrol. I’ll be fine. Promise.”

The thing with Jason was that even when he was so big and bulky and hella intimidating, his empathy towards others had a bad habit of always shining through despite the layers of armor and sarcasm. You squeeze his hand, pressing little circles into his palm, and smile up at him. It was forced but it was the best you could do. Jason ruffles your hair again before letting go and making his way to the window.

“Get some sleep.”

“Aye aye cap’n” You yawn settling into a slump on the couch. Jason can’t help but smile fondly at you. You wave him a sleepy goodby before he sets off.

You passed out on the couch, an old habit you never grew out of. You always slept on the couch when you felt uneasy. It may have been some sort of way to separate stress from your bedroom. It sure as shit wasn’t for safety reasons. Your equipment was dispersed throughout your apartment but your weapons were usually stowed away in your room.

You feel a hand running gently through your hair, smoothing away all your apprehension.

“Jay” You grouse, your hand halfheartedly swatting at the hand stroking your hair. You bury yourself further into the warmth of the comforter feeling the need to shrink away from the touch. You feel a soft prick on your neck.

Your eyes fly open.

Shit.

The hand tangles in your hair. It throws you to the wall. The air is knocked out of your lungs. Your ribs scream. You scrabble to your feet. Your limbs fail you. They flail uselessly. Your breaths pick up. Your chest feels like it's caving.

"JAY" You shriek. “HELP.” A large hand grasps your throat. A rush of adrenaline kicks in. You thrash. You kick. Your hit lands. Another grasps your ankles. You scream. You swear viciously. Another grabs at your wrists. Something rough winds around your wrists and ankles.

The world tilts into an odd angle. Your head feels heavy so do your arms and your legs and everything.

"Jaaay" You slur, the air in your lungs becoming sluggish like everything else. "Jay" you sob again, knowing he wouldn't come. Not when he was so far away.

"Shut up you ….. bitch" You feel a swift kick to your stomach. It barely registers above the haze.

"Hey man-"

"What? The …. man said we …… rough her up."

"We can?"

"Yeah, ……, said so"

Your eyes blink, stupid, and uncomprehending. Distantly, you hear yourself grunting and whimpering. You can feel their blows but your body is too far away, too inaccessible. It was strange to physically feel yourself drift away.

Roman traces the sun shaped scar radiating on your shoulder with a leather-clad hand. The one shot he’d managed to land on you the first time you’d stormed one of his warehouses. You were all cocksure and quick wit and boisterous laughter. You really had the devil’s own luck but it seems to have run out. Not that Roman’s got any complaints. Not when he’s got you laying at his feet, tied up and vulnerable.

He crouches down, hand on his chin. His eyes roam appreciatively over your sleeping form, appraising you like a premium cut of meat. You look pretty against the black silk sheets he’d chosen. He sighs content with his prize. He traces the tip of his knife over your cheek, a dark purple bruise maring your features stark against the stainless surface of the blade. Slade really was quite careless when handling you. Not that Roman has any plans on being any gentler.

He lets his blade drift down, trailing down your neck down to the flimsy protection of your oversized shirt. Your steady breaths falter. You keep your eyes shut trying to gather more information but it’s hard not to focus off the tip of the blade cold against your warm skin even as the blade cuts through the thin fabric of your shirt. A large hand grasps your face roughly.

“I know you're awake, baby-” You blanch still not opening your eyes. The grip on your jaw tightens. You grin like a madman. “It's rude to keep daddy waiting.”

“Sorry, Sionis, I was really hoping not to have to wake up you’re ugly mug.” You sneer, voice thick and raspy with sleep but still full with your trademark confidence. Roman looks more amused than irritated. Your body and mind are still at the cusp of sleep. You wriggle and almost cry out with joy when you feel them move. You mind the hand on your jaw and its tight grip.

“Baby, I won’t tell you a-” You spit in his face, cracking an eye open to see his reaction. A bloody grin spreads across your face like wildfire when you see the annoyance on his face.

“You’re going to regret that” He growls, wiping his face with a torn piece of your shirt.

“Oh please-” Something cracks across your jaw.

“The next time it’ll be the other end,” It takes a moment for your mind to catch on. You stare at the hilt of the blade for a moment before letting loose another smarmy grin. His violent reaction spurs you on. Yeah, you can definitely see why Jason thinks you’re going to age him twenty years. “Oh please, You like my face too much for that.”

“You really wanna test that?”

“Nope,” You say, spitting into his eye and landing a punch square in his face. You cackle like a madwoman when he goes down. You don’t bother hiding the delighted chirps that escape your chest.

Being petty, you give him a swift kick to the face before dashing towards the door. You launch yourself, feeling like you can fly. The copper taste in your tongue almost feels sweet.

Your hand grasps the door when a hand tangles itself in your hair.

Roman throws you back onto the mattress, the springs digging into your back. You scratch and claw and thrash against the large hand wrapped around your throat. You snarl as Roman leans closer, his body pinning yours against the mattress, his weight immobilizing your fatigued limbs. A sweet-smelling cloth covers your mouth and nose, you gasp in surprise, inhaling the scent. Your mind is already sluggish by the time it catches on.

Your vision dims.

You feel hollowed out.

Your limbs fall away, arms drooping and pliant against the silk-covered mattress. The cloth feels too much against your skin. Vaguely, you feel horror prickling up your spine or maybe it was just the springs again.

Roman pulls away. You think you breathe a sigh of relief, feeling the weight of him lifted. He straddles your body, grinning down at you. Your mouth falls open to say something. You want to say that you curse him out or that you threaten him. The sound you make is small. Your tongue feels too heavy. No, something is pressing it down, you think.

Above you, Roman is a towering colossus. You’re vaguely aware of the shifting of his hips. He removes his gloved hand from your mouth and caresses the side of your face with mock gentleness. His movements are sluggish and syrupy. You make another noise when you realize to some degree of horror that isn’t. Your mind felt heavy and useless.

He snaps his fingers. The sound is dull like it's contending with water. A muffled set of steps approaches you. A man, you realize. You don't think you’ve noticed him before. His dark shape is messy and incomprehensible. A red dot flashes stark against his form. The mechanical sounds of a shutter drift in and out of your mind. You turn your head back to Roman at the sound of shifting fabric.

Above you, Roman, already without his suit jacket, loosens his tie, eyes staring hungrily at you. The pit of your stomach feels painfully cold. You blink at him stupidly. He chuckles, grasping your chin to make sure you’re looking at him. You protest against his touch.

“Don’t worry, baby, you’ll be the star of our little show like the filthy attention whore you really are. ” He laughs. It rumbles like thunder in your ears.

The world falls away.

Click

One

Two

One

You feel a prick on your neck.

Hot breaths fan against your face.

Your body is too warm.

You don’t want to know why.

Twenty-five, you continue counting.

You feel fabric shift against you.

Something sharp digs itself into your flesh.

One

Two

Three

Three?

Something’s crushing your windpipe.

Your body is aching. You’re not entirely sure whether it’s from use or disuse and by who.

“Good girl”

Thirty

Twelve

There’s something scraping against your flesh.

Is it a knife?

Hot pants fan against your skin.

Teeth

Four

Fifty-six

“Boss, I-.... going a …. bit too far?”

Smack!

“Do …. You…. to think?”

Two sixty-eight

A hand strikes you. You think your jaw is broken. It hurts but then again everything hurts. All you can do is take it and whimper.

Tears sting against your face.

“That’s right. Just like that. Like that, you little whore.”

Your body is warm again.

You still don’t want to know.

Two

Two?

You’ve counted two before.

You blink.

The haze of your mind lifts.

The coldness of the room seeps in your bones. You’re bare. You take stock of yourself, running your hands over your skin. Everything is still there.

Everything and a few other things. You let disgust and shame roll over you. A sob tears its way out of your chest. Your breath picks up. You feel your mind slipping. You press the heels of your palms into your eyes, calling your mind back and steadying yourself.

You take stock again. This time moving your limbs and jangling your joints. They were weak but workable. You’re surprised to find yourself unbound aside from the collar around your neck. You suppose Roman’s confident in his drugs. How long have you been here? You press lightly against your neck, feeling the higher than normal pulsing of your artery. You shift yourself waking your legs up.

You stiffen, gooseflesh spreading over your skin as light filters into the room through the door. Your eyes snap shut, stinging from the sudden intrusion of light. The pulse beneath your fingers jackrabbits. You think you’ll keel over.

“Shhhhhh”

All the strength in your veins floods out, leaving a feeling of cold horror in its place. You scream or you try. Your body feels impossibly rigid. Roman stalks towards you, his footfalls slow and deliberate and too loud. Your heart jumps up to your throat with each step. You inch yourself away from him, drawing yourself up to make yourself feel bigger. He coos at how adorable you are, trying to look defiant. The mattress dips under his weight. Your mind begins to slip away from you again. The world falls away from you. You anchor it, digging your nails into your palms. He cups your face, thumb caressing your bottom lip. You glower at him and bite out something witty. He laughs amusement lighting up his features, the sound grates against your ears.

“Not gonna fight back?” He taunts, pressing his thumb down on your bottom lip. Your body recoils but then goes slack as he runs his hand up and down your side. Shame blankets you but the fear etched into you keeps you still.

Roman loosens his tie.

Your mind falls out of your reach.

“Such a good little slut.” He murmurs against your lips.

You wanted to say.

Instead, your mind starts counting again even as you hear the rustle of fabric.

BANG

A gunshot rings through the thick atmosphere of the room.

Roman curses.

His men stampede.

Another round of shots fire.

Something- No, no. Someone tears Roman off of you.

“Deathstroke?” You croak, your voice sounding foreign and absurdly brittle.

“Do you know anyone else walking around looking like this, kid?”

“Ravager” You snark, lips twitching into a smile. He rolls his eyes underneath his mask. The familiarity of the exchange breathes life into your body. Roman’s hand grips your wrist with bruising intensity. Your breath catches.

No. No. No.

The word loops in your head like a constant rat-tat.

Slade’s foot makes contact with Roman’s head, the force of it unnecessary but satisfactory. The sounds of bone-cracking fill the air. The man falls uselessly to the grimey floor. He shoots him with a couple of rounds for good measure, each shot instilling a pang of finality in the back of your mind.

You scrabble towards Slade, wide-eyed and shallow breathed. You cling to Slade as he bundles your body in silken sheets. He hoists you easily into his arms. You bury your face into the junction between his neck and shoulder, closing your eyes, the image of Roman’s bloody body on the floor pressed into your mind. You sob in relief. Your hands clasping onto Slade, white-knuckled and shaking.

"I've got you, sweetheart," He rumbles, running his hand through your hair soothingly. The tight knots in your body, loosen. You whimper a quiet thank you. “I’ve got you.”

You lift your head only to see Roman twitch.

Your breathing falters.

Fear pricks your spine.

Your mind falls away from you again.

Distantly, you feel Slade’s grip on you tightens.

Distantly, you hear him murmur something.

Everything is too far away.

Your eyes blink sluggishly. The world becomes dimmer with each blink.

A warm spray of water drizzles down over your aching skin. Your open wounds sting but the warm water pooling around you soothes the aches of your bruised flesh. Your eyes focus on the soft off-white of the tile on the wall opposite you. You don’t let yourself about the thin, rusty red film swirling in the water. The air in the room is thick with steam and the scent of lavender.

The absence of grime on your skin makes you feel lighter and gauzy and immaterial. You felt naked and obscene like you had been taken apart and now someone was examining pieces of you. You almost miss it.

“Lean back” Slade grumbles as he lathers your hair with some lavender concoction the hotel provided. Your body follows automatically, eagerly, obediently. You tell yourself you’re just tired. You tell yourself nothing’s wrong with your response. You tell yourself you’re ok. You wince. The warm water around you shifts. You hear it splash against the tile. You flinch at how loud it sounds. You take a deep breath and lean into his touch. He’s handling you delicately as though you would fall apart any second. You might.

Blinking away tears, you watch his face, aware that by leaning back, you’d be giving him a good view of the hickies, bite marks, and knife wounds Roman ‘gifted’ you. There’s a slight twitch in the corners of his lips. He must be disgusted with you too. You want to sink into the hot water and let it burn you anew, but you don’t trust yourself not to drown.

You close your eyes as another spray of warm water pours over you. You melt into it hoping it’s enough to wash the last few days- weeks?- away.

Your hands grasp his face, pulling him towards you. His hands brace against the tub, keeping him from falling in with you. Your arms loop around his neck, your hot breath fanning against his lips. You press your lips against him, searching and wanting. For what exactly? Comfort? Safety? Stimulation? His lips press lightly against yours, not quite a kiss. Slade actually looks taken aback.

The rest of the world floods back in. You peel away, your eyes wide with terror. “Shit- I’m- Fuck! Fuck! Shit, Slade, I- I’m sorry. I- Shit! I didn’t-” Your breathing ratchets up, becoming shallower as the pulsating in your ears grow louder. There’s a tightness growing in your chest that makes you think your ribcage is about to implode. You cover your face with your hands not caring how it didn’t help your shallowing breaths. You can’t look at him. You just can’t. You know you’re disgusting.

Your body wants to come apart, dissolve, and if it can, evaporate. You can’t breathe. You curl into yourself, into the water. A hand grabs at your wrist. You flinch. The hand carefully pries your hand away, forcing you to uncurl. Slade’s other hand cups your face gently, guiding you to look him in the eye. The lack of disgust in his face rattles you.

His thumb brushes against your lips making your stomach twist and your spine curl. He dips his head closer to yours. You kiss him eagerly. He lets out a pleased hum and smiles against your lips. Something cold licks at the bottom of your stomach but it’s overtaken by the need for connection, to fill in what had been hollowed out.

You press closer to him than strictly necessary as you watch the news, chewing on your cheek. He pulls you close, shifting you on to his lap. You don’t protest, eyes glued to the TV.

“Businessman, Roman Sionis, was found with several gunshot wounds to the stomach in one of his warehouses here in Minos City. He is now in stable condition. Authorities say...”

Your jaw falls slack in mute horror. Your stomach tumbles to the floor. You’re hyperventilating. Your teeth are digging into your cheek, you taste copper. Your mind spirals back into the room, back to the dirty mattress, back to Roman.

Strong arms wrap around you, stilling your trembling body against a broad chest. Your body relaxes a fraction. You curl into him, the buzz of nervous energy settling into a quieter panic.

“You’re safe with me, you know that don’t you, sweetheart?” Slade says tracing circles into your palm. You lean your head into his shoulder. You nod easing against him. “I’ll never let that monster anywhere near you.” He promises, pressing a kiss into your hair. A little sob wrenches free of your imploding chest.

Slade keeps his face buried in your hair even as you fall into a lull. It was the only way to hide the triumphant grin spreading across his face.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll take good care of you.”

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A/n: Thanks for reading. There’s a follow up to this because I can’t cope with bad endings. I had to promise myself a good second part to make the ending horrifying.

The writing process for this fic was basically:

Me: I have this horrifying idea!

My brain: Yes but what if we put a little dork Jason in it.

Me: I guess that wouldn’t hurt.

Me: Ok I have written nearly 2k of dorky Jason where’s the other parts?

Brain: Uh what other parts?

Me: *sighs and spends the next few days spamming @knightfall05x*

taglist:

@batarella, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish,@birdy-bat-writes, @americasmarauders , @l-horizon11, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell

#yandere dc #yandere blackmask #yandere roman sionis #yandere deathstroke #yandere slade wilson #Black Mask #Deathstroke #slade wilson x reader #Roman Sionis #roman sionis x reader #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #Jason Todd #red hood x reader

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indestinatus · 4 years

Text

Falling For You

TIVATOBER 2020 // DAY 18

↳ prompt: Hayride - rated T (1,860 words)

summary: In which Tony just isn’t able to contain whatever he is "feeling".

A/N: To be completely honest, I had no idea what ‘hayride’ meant, so this is my take on a story surrounding an awful lot of hay haha oops features some confusing feelings and unfair libidos.

read it on AO3 💘

It wasn’t jealousy. It wasn’t. Maybe it was this annoying, almost familiar pang at the pit of his stomach, but if he lied to himself long enough, he could blame the barbecue sandwich he had for lunch and leave it be.

Tony looked down from the first floor of the barn to study the man again.

With his broad shoulders and sculpted arms, the farmer looked idly bored as he waited for them to search through the piles of hay, slouching against one of the pillars as he chewed on a straw. It had been a couple of hours since they were trying to find a missing slug that had accidentally pierced through one of the walls, its trajectory coming from another farmhouse miles away. So far, no luck.

It usually didn’t bother him. How some guys were more ripped than him, that was. It only meant that Tony was dedicated to his job, otherwise, he would’ve had the free time to bulk up as much as they did.

Though he had had the time to drive to the other side of town to get Sally’s special barbecue sandwich that morning but… It was worth it. That had been a hell of a finger-licking sandwich.

The guy glanced upwards again, and Tony puffed up his chest. He didn’t look away, and when a smirk started to twitch at the corner of his mouth, Tony made sure to put his hands on his hips, accidentally displaying his badge as he did so. He could show off his calendar figure all he wanted, but Tony was still the authority there. They both knew that.

The younger man was the first one to call off the staring match, and Tony felt a flicker of pride.

That’s right, cowboy. No one messes with a federal agent, and especially not with his girl.

Girl? Where did that come from? Gun, he meant gun.

Tony glanced at Ziva, scared that for a moment she could’ve read his mind. Half hoping that she had actually done, he suddenly felt like an idiot, because she continued to search for the missing slug, completely oblivious to the peacock fight happening right next to her.

The familiar discomfort flickered again inside his chest. It wasn’t annoyance, it wasn’t excitement, it was… nervousness? Worry, perhaps? But worry about what, exactly? He knew Ziva for years now, it shouldn’t matter what she thought of him by then. She was his coworker, and that was as far as they could go, and why was he even thinking about it? It wasn’t as if she would break any rules for him.

That woman was more dedicated to the job than anything, and their bickering was just how they communicated. It meant nothing. Yes, it was fun, and it had always felt strangely natural, but that was all it was. A game. Mindless banter just to pass the time, and he knew that. She didn’t really think about it, and he also knew that.

It confused him so much Tony had decided for some time now it was better to ignore it, whatever it was that she made him feel.

He eyed the farmer again, wondering what she had seen in him to respond so openly to his flirting earlier. Of course, Ziva had always been skilled in flirting with men - especially ones that could easily be intimidated by her - but it bugged him for some reason. Tony didn’t know exactly why, but with every guy she did that, he just wanted to punch them in the face.

It wasn’t jealousy. It wasn’t.

“It might not be too smart to use it here.”

Tony jumped a little, his heart beating faster as he turned to face her. He prayed that the heat he was feeling on his cheeks wasn’t visible. Then Ziva gave him an amused look, arching an eyebrow, and his heart did that weird thing when it went still and then started racing, tattooing the inside of his ribs.

“Use what?” asked Tony, clearing his throat.

Ziva cast him a sly smile. “Your laser vision,” she teased, motioning with her chin to the ground floor, “This is a haystack. It might catch fire while we’re still inside.”

“Ha-ha,” Tony returned the tight smile. “The air is too damp for that.”

Tony looked downwards again to eye the man with suspicion, narrowing his eyes when he caught him ogling Ziva again. “It’s always reasonable to assess the competition,” he said more to himself than to her.

“I like fall,” she stated, and he wondered if she had listened to what he’d said. “Sweater weather, yes?”

Ziva motioned vaguely in his direction, and Tony remembered he was wearing a gray sweater today. Did that mean she had liked his sweater? Oh, she would most definitely look good in it… real good.

Tony shook his head, tightening his jaw as he tried to calm down his confused libido. She was just talking about the weather, it was only small talk. His mind was putting words in her mouth, and suddenly Tony felt really frustrated. Couldn’t things be black and white, at least for once? A habit of speaking in riddles really screwed up his brain sometimes.

“What’s the point?” Tony whined. “It would only be good if money did grow on trees.”

Ziva frowned. “Why would money grow on trees?”

Tony glared at her. Not quite believing how oblivious she was, he huffed, “Sometimes I—”

His words were cut short when Ziva let out a strangled cry, and Tony turned just in time to see her disappearing down below, falling from the rather high first floor of the barn.

Rushing towards her, relief flooded him the same time something resembling anger started to boil inside his chest.

She looked a bit disheveled and wide-eyed in the arms of the young farmer, as if not quite believing she had fallen from so high and managed to get away with it. The man smiled broadly towards her, clearly proud of having caught her. Tony was certain now the heat in his cheeks was visible. He felt his whole face burn for that matter - the guy had no business holding her so tightly like that.

“Woah,” said the farmer. “I guess…” his smile widened, “You’re falling for me.”

“Oh, for God’s—” Tony wondered how long someone would take to discover a body there because right at that moment, he really wanted to kill the guy. That was already a crime scene anyway, it would make no difference.

Feeling his blood boil, Tony hastily took the stairs down, stomping his feet. “What?” he barked when both of them glared pointedly at his storming entrance. “No ‘Rapunzel, let down your hair!’ for me?”

Ziva sent the farmer an apologetic look as if to say thank you and then turned to him, her eyebrows shooting upwards to the barn’s roof. Tony didn’t miss how her hand had stayed for far too long on the guy’s chest, nor how they’d shared smirks between them when he’d let her to the ground. This was getting ridiculous, and even if he hated the color of the navy yard walls, Tony would pay a lot just to be there instead.

“Tony,” Ziva said with narrowing eyes, then gave up and sighed, “Don’t be too harsh on him. Johnny was just trying to help.”

“Johnny?” Tony huffed a perplexed laugh, “I thought you’d be calling him ‘dear’ by now.”

Ziva watched him for a moment, and any comeback he was expecting didn’t happen when she smiled to herself and started looking for the bullet again, going through the piles of hay.

The ache in Tony’s chest increased a thousandfold. Was she laughing at him? Could this woman be more confusing than she already was?

Then he remembered she had actually fallen from the first floor, and the fact that she was walking was a miracle by itself.

“You okay?” He tried to meet her eye but couldn’t, busing himself to search for that missing piece of evidence instead.

“Yes,” was her quiet reply.

The sirens inside his head started blaring. Had he done something wrong? He needed to learn how to control his reactions more. Was she actually okay? Or was she lying about what she felt like they were used to do? He wished he was the one who’d caught her instead. What was he thinking? He knew she knew how to take care of herself, but it was his job to have her back. And he failed once again, however minimum that had been.

“It would take less time finding a needle around here,” Tony tried to clear the air, hoping Ziva would forget the jealous incident.

Jealousy? No, not jealousy. More of a brotherly type of protection. Yes, that’s what that was.

“I thought we were meant to find a bullet,” she replied, glancing at him with a soft smile from where she was crouched down. A weight he didn’t know he was carrying disappeared, his chest hurting a little less. She seemed alright, considering.

“Sometimes I really envy your brain, David.” Tony offered a weak laugh, glancing at her with caution.

“At least I have one.”

“You think Dear John’s cowboy hat is big enough to fit his?”

Damn, it was amazing how sometimes his filter could fail him. As soon as the words left Tony’s mouth, he winced, cursing to himself. His brain felt like scrambled eggs, confusion making it impossible to block his own unconscious.

“He was right, though,” she said. “About falling.”

Tony’s heart fell, insecurities bringing a bitter taste to his tongue. Of course, she would make advances on the guy. Of course. It was too easy of a target and Ziva would be a fool not to enjoy that. Sure, he was known for having more dates than most, but he hadn’t had one in what felt like forever. He didn’t know what he was waiting for, but she sure wasn’t doing the same.

“For him?” asked Tony, a bit annoyed, trying to hide his disappointment. He just wanted to go home.

“In love.”

He frowned.

What?

Tony looked at her, finding Ziva already watching him. It was a different kind of look, cautious, almost curious. He wondered what she was thinking. If she had really meant what he was thinking she had… Damn, he knew exactly what that tingle in his stomach was about.

“And what… What do you mean by—” Tony stuttered, the way his heart was racing feeling really unfair.

She smiled, the butterflies inside his chest fluttering again at how her eyes sparkled.

“We should go,” Ziva said, showing the palm of her hand. “I found it.”

The missing slug felt like a Christmas present in mid-October, and when she stepped forward to press a soft kiss to his right cheek, Tony felt like it was really December.

Money didn’t grow on trees, but maybe this Fall wouldn’t be so bad.

Ziva bid the farmer goodbye and they left the barn behind, Tony managing to reach the car before a grin stretched across his face.

#tiva fanfiction #tivatober2020 #once upon a halloween #my fics #<333

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caffeinated-moonchild · 3 years

Text

folie à deux [kim namjoon]

writer: michiko

genre: criminal au, smut, angst

characters: kim namjoon, veronika [original female character]

synopsis: namjoon and veronika are on the run but they were confident enough that they can pull it off. besides, they vow that no one can ever take them alive.

WARNING: MAY CONTAIN EXPLICIT DEPICTION OF VIOLENCE, SEX, PROFANITY, AND MENTAL ISSUES.

story:

⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑖𝑛 𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑚𝑒

⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀𝑆𝐸𝑇 𝐼𝑇 𝑂𝐹𝐹

⠀⠀1:01 ───●────── 3:31

⠀ ⠀⠀|◁ II ▷|

A sliver of the late morning sunlight peeked through the small gap of the cheap polyester curtain, a gentle glow against their bare skin that remained exposed amidst a mess of blanket and tangled limbs. The air was still thick and heavy with sex, the walls still carried the imprint of sweat-soaked skin, and the floor was covered with the scattered pieces of fabric that belonged to the two bodies wrapped around each other.

Pale fingers traced circles on the side of his arm, making swirls and lines opposed to the ink on his skin as if writing a story that only he holds. A hum escaped his thick lips as his eyes slowly fluttered open, dark ones making its way to meet a pair of blue hues. "Good morning, babe." His voice was husky, almost smoky. It was a more than familiar tone that he uses, at times, unintentionally.

Her mind was still clouded from the previous day’s crime and the night’s heat, and there was a late morning craving for honey-dripped kisses and lust-drenched skin.

Soft plump lips pressed against his tan skin, whispering sins and delusions on the base of his neck. Strong hands wandered the curve of her waist down to her hips, pulling her closer. Hooking a leg along his waist made her more vulnerable, especially when his hand gently glided on the curve of her hips before reaching from behind, parting the thin laced fabric, two digits rubbing between her legs.

Soft moans made its way past her rosy lips, singing against his skin as she planted gentle kisses along his collarbone, where a wild rose tattoo was etched on, nipping on the skin to leave a couple of marks next to the ones she made the night before. Gentle mewls against his skin as his fingers grew more sensual against her heated core. The corner of his lips tugged up to a proud smirk as he elicited the sounds that he adored. And he knew all too well that the low groan followed by a bite on his shoulder meant how impatient she was getting.

Her slender leg swung over to straddle him as a certain blue flame danced in her own blue eyes. "Didn’t you get enough last night, babe?" he asked, voice husky as his hands sensually rubbed her bare thighs. "Don’t you want to—" He groaned as he was cut off by a spark of friction between their clothed sex, his hands gripping on her waist, pressing her harder against him.

The louder the sound, the more the flames in between their legs grew. Her impatience extended to him as they both rid their bodies of the remaining piece of cloth, her eager hand guided his shaft as she sheathed his entire length in her velvet walls.

His hands molded her waist as he controlled their pace, growling as he felt himself being clenched by her walls which only made him go a bit rougher. With her head thrown back, blonde curls like golden waterfalls, ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑙𝑢𝑐𝑘𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑡𝑜 𝐺 as she sang the song 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑚𝑎𝑗𝑜𝑟 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑜𝑟, 𝐶 𝑡𝑜 𝐷.

Lost in the feeling of both passion and pleasure, they had complete disregard when it came to the time and how they were supposed to check out at exactly noon, but the loud knock on the door was sure to remind them. And yet instead of answering it, they only let their voice grow louder.

"We should—" She tried to suggest in between the string of moans and whimpers that begged to be sung but it only fueled him, driving her insane and pushing her over the edge. As much as she knew that they were on the run and had to get on their feet, she needed the flame even more.

A smug smirk was stretched across his lips, aware that his movements caused her to become a mess of moans and whimpers, unable to finish a sentence that she intended to stop him.

The knocks grew louder just as their mixed voices filled the room with the lewd sounds of pleasure, pleading, and wanting more as if they were in a world where there were no one else but them. And maybe that was why they were such a perfect match—they had a lack of care towards the people around them, only having regards for themselves.

The sound of keys jingling, as the housekeeper attempted to open the shabby door, was drowned by the profanity that they did not hear it creak open. A gasp cut through the sexual noises, but not even the presence of the housekeeper and a guard did not stop the two as they were nearing their peaks.

Her body was leaning forward, hands on his chest as her nails dug through his skin as she felt the familiar coil in her stomach. Her walls were clenching around his entire length, squeezing him tighter which made him groan and thrust harder, shoving her to her peak. A proud smirk was plastered on his face as he watched her come undone before gripping her waist tighter as he pulled her down, plunging deeper into her as he released every drop into her velvet walls.

Sweat-drenched skin against each other and chests heaved as they tried to catch their breaths, her burner phone rang as more than two pairs of eyes followed the sound of the generic ringtone that filled the room.

"Ma’am and sir, you’re past the check-out time," the housekeeper said, her thick Southern accent making it sound a bit more friendly than intimidating. But instead of answering, Veronika pulled herself up which made their liquids drip down her inner thighs. She crawled to the edge of the bed as she reached for the phone on the nightstand to answer the call.

Her plump lips were pressed into a straight line as she listened to the voice from the other end of the line. Her soft features soon grew firm as her gaze turned sharp and shot him an alarmed look which made him sit up almost immediately. The tension was brewing thick, even unable to be cut through by the constant call of the housekeeper and guard who had their back against the two now.

The call coming to an abrupt end, the blonde huffed. "What is it? Who was that?" The blond guy asked, his deep voice etched with a hint of worry. The previous day’s events played through their minds, reminding themselves of the euphoric taste of their crime.

The blonde girl glanced at the two strangers who were still asking them to start packing up. She leaned in a bit closer to the guy in order to whisper, "The authorities are looking for us. We’re all over the news."

"Then we really do have to go now," he firmly said as he slipped out of the bed as he dressed up as he collected his clothes that were scattered all over the floor. His gaze followed the girl who was searching the entire area for her clothes. "I got your jacket." He threw it across the bed which she caught perfectly.

Without another word, they walked out of the room being followed by the guard. Their movements were careful and calculated as they headed back to the lobby to check out. It was as if it was just any other day, as if their faces were not plastered on paper and flashed in news on television. They flashed the reception smiles that mock how clueless they were that they accommodated a couple of cutthroats, without giving it a second thought—despite the questionable stains on their clothes and disheveled hair.

Parading down the street, they knew they were treading on tightrope, hanging onto their remaining wits and luck. Despite wanting to hang their heads low and not draw any attention, their blonde hair glowed in the midst of shambles with a façade of perfection and innocence.

They knew which item on their list had been checked out and what else had to be executed, and at that point, their clock was ticking faster than they wanted and needed it to be. They still had two things to do, a hit-and-run kind of task that needed a level of poise to handle, something Veronika was confident that she could execute. But even if she denied it, she could feel her nerves tremble under the pressure brought by the time and the act itself.

Upon arrival at the antique shop, Veronika’s blue eyes scanned the area as she tried to come up with a faster yet still compelling angle to work on in order to get the owner to step out of the counter long enough for Namjoon to take the money so they can finally fly to a different city and start over, as they try to put it nicely.

Her eyes caught a glimpse of an artwork which seemed some kind of macabre portrayal of Romeo and Juliet. Despite Juliet’s dead body floating on her own pool of blood and Romeo’s pale corpse laying next to her with the empty vial of poison still in hand, there was something about it that appealed to the blonde girl.

"I haven’t seen this before," she sweetly said, still admiring the artwork that was hung around the opposite corner of the counter. "I bet a lot of people tried to buy this masterpiece."

The owner was an old man and he seemed alone. His eyes were filled with years of stories that are probably going to be left untold. "I wish I can say you’re right but no one really wants to hang such gruesome artwork in their own home." He took a careful step as he glanced at the empty shop, thinking it would not hurt to step out of his post and attend to a customer.

"Maybe it is a little weird but it has a certain charm, don’t you think?" She smiled sweetly, almost innocently, but something still felt off.

The old man chuckled, standing next to the blonde girl. "If there is, you’re the first one to notice it." He reached for the painting’s frame, grazing her fingers delicate as if he was careful not to break it. "It was brought here along with a few more things. I haven’t seen anything like it. Romeo and Juliet are often painted as alive and in love, but rarely about how they died. Truly heartbreaking."

At the corner of Veronika’s eyes, she saw Namjoon starting to make his move so she tried to prolong the conversation. And for a while, she was able to keep it up but when the owner looked at the counter’s direction, he slid his hand in his pocket only to pull out what looked like a button and pressed it. ❝I’ve dealt with you hoodlums for so long, you’re not getting away with this,❞ he shouted before running outside of the shop. The old man who seemed feeble had enough energy to get away.

"Hurry!" The blonde girl groaned, brushing trembling fingers through her hair. "I’m not going back to fucking jail, Namjoon!"

He was getting frustrated as he zipped up the bag filled with both money and a few more valuables that he found along the shelves. "Do you really think I want to go back there, too, Vee? Not a chance."

The two of them headed out, running for their lives, knowing that the clock is ticking and it was just a matter of time until they were caught.

"Over my dead body," Veronika said through gritted teeth.

Five feet away from a car that could free them, the sound of the siren flooded their surroundings as two shots rang, echoing in the open space. Veronika flinched, terrified of the sound when it does not come from a gun that she holds. She turned around only to see Namjoon on the ground, hand still tightly gripping on the duffel bag.

And she could have easily run away but her heart told her not to.

"Run," Namjoon croaked, blood filling the gap of his lips and yet no matter the warning, she was not going anywhere. If she was not going to be with Namjoon, she had no plans of ever escaping the situation.

Through blurred vision, he could see her petite figure running towards him. And though he wished that the last image that he would have of her was her blonde hair dancing with the wind as she called his name, he was not granted that. Just as the lights started to dim, another set of two shots cut through the sound of the siren.

"Namjoon..." she whispered, voice fading towards the end of his name. Just a couple of feet away, Veronika crawled until she was able to reach for his hand.

Their bodies were sprawled across the concrete, flashes of blue and red glowing against their skin. It was overcast as if the sky empathized with the lovers who tried to hold on to dear life, mouthing their vows to each other as crimson added color to the grey. Her blue eyes looked at his dark ones, a faint smile painted on their lips that held an unspoken promise.

❝They’ll never take us alive.❞

***

Upon further investigation, Veronika and Namjoon had been connected to more than fifteen bodies and a dozen robberies. It was intricate, a twisted and illegal work of art that served as their legacy.

If it was not for the mediocre attempt, then they could have gotten out alive.

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ecoamerica · 1 month

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youtube

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

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thetailorofenbizaka · 4 years

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Chapter 1–The Tale of the Scissors, Act 3: Reunion; Scene 3

The Tailor of Enbizaka, pages 82-88

Another morning, Oyuka came to visit Kayo’s tailor shop.

“Are you in, Kayo-san? Excuse the interruption.”

At that moment, Kayo was still sleeping on her futon.

“My my, still sleeping away today. Never thought I’d see the day.”

Oyuka’s remark was because Kayo had always been the sort of person who would wake up and begin her work earlier than everyone else in the neighborhood.

She peered at the futon.

When she did, she noticed that Kayo was whimpering in her sleep, looking incredibly sad.

“…Are you alright!? Kayo-san!”

Oyuka shook Kayo, and she sprang up from the futon with a start.

“Hahh…Hahh…”

Oyuka gazed at Kayo worriedly, taking in her disheveled hair and her breathless wheezing.

“What’s wrong, Kayo-san? Have you caught a cold?” She put a hand to Kayo’s forehead. “You don’t seem to have a fever.

“…I’m alright, Oyuka-san. Nothing’s wrong.”

“It didn’t look that way.”

“…I just…had a bit of a bad dream, that’s all…”

“A dream?”

“Yes…a purple one…”

“You’ve been working too hard. Your body will collapse if you strain your nerves too much! That’s why you’ve gone so touched in the –”

“…?”

“No, it’s nothing. –Ah! That’s right.” Oyuka handed Kayo a bundle she’d been carrying.

“What’s this?”

“I received some very delicious sweet manjuu from a family in Momogengou yesterday. I figured I ought to share some with you. You like sweet things, don’t you?”

“Yes…I like them as much as I enjoy tuna takoyaki…Thank you very much.”

Kayo thanked Oyuka, still out of breath.

“I’ll be making tuna takoyaki next time. Come to eat at my place when you have a spare moment from work.”

“Okay…”

“Well then! Now’s the time to rest, so make sure you do that!”

So saying, Oyuka returned home.

--Kayo having nightmares like that one was not limited to this one instance.

After that, there were times when she would make pained expressions as she slept.

To be more accurate, it was something that began to happen immediately after the two of you had swapped bodies.

I can perceive scenes from vast distances, but I cannot peer into someone’s mind.

So even now I can’t rightly say what sort of dreams Kayo was having.

Even so—

It was obvious that these dreams were frightful and sorrowful things for Kayo.

“Purple dreams…hm,” Elluka murmured, once more halting in her writing.

Do you have some idea of what that is?

When I asked her, Elluka replied, skillfully spinning the pen in her hand around and around, “I had a little bit of prognostic ability.”

Prognostic ability?

“The power to see the future. Strictly speaking it’s not really my power, but rather that of the original owner of the body I gave to Kayo—Lukana. Only, it’s not something that I can actively use; it manifests in the form of the occasional dream. And in those instances, the dreams…are always purple.”

She’d said she “had” a prognostic ability—that must mean that she no longer had that power now.

Was that power passed on to Kayo?

“I don’t know that much. But it’s possible. This is mere hypothesis, but could she have been seeing nightmares of the things that she was going to do later? And that she suffered because of them—” And there, Elluka briefly paused, looking up to the ceiling as though thinking something over. “—But if so that brings up the question of why Kayo wouldn’t stop her violent crimes, knowing her future.”

Kayo had seen her own future—Assuming that was the case.

Rather—it would have been because of that.

Elluka didn’t realize it, but I felt as though an answer to one of my questions had come forward.

“…Miroku Kai. The man who would be the final victim of the event that occurred…” Elluka seemed to be thinking about him, still spinning her pen around in her fingers. “How did Kayo become convinced he was her husband? Outside of having a burn scar on his left hand, they didn’t have anything in common, right?”

Yes, I’m quite sure of that…But there is a precedent, with Kayo similarly calling Bufuko by her son’s name.

“And leaving aside the fact that they both had blond hair, the two were entirely different in age and appearance…Hm.”

And gender.

“…”

Elluka suddenly clammed up.

…? Are you stuck on something?

“No…We’ll leave that matter be for now. In either case, you could say that it was a departure from reality on Kayo’s part, borne of her mental illness. Regarding both Bufuko and him that she met later on.”

The “him” that Elluka mentioned was not referring to Kai.

For a moment I spread my gaze outside of the tailor shop. The blond-haired boy and the monk were still talking to each other before the execution site.

…Isn’t the matter with Kai the same as the situation with Bufuko and “him”?

“—I can’t help but be baffled on that point. It’s somewhat understandable for her to think that Bufuko is her son Ren, given that they lived together for four years. And regarding ‘him’, he has the same blond hair as Bufuko and similar features, so while it’s a bit of a stretch I can see that. …But from what you’re saying, she met Kai just passing by him on the street, yes? Would she be so convinced solely because of a burn scar?”

…If you listen to the rest of my story, the answer might be clearer to you.

“Ah, is that right? Well then, continue on.”

We’ve jumped ahead a little bit on this matter, so would you like me to skip in the story to tell you about Kayo’s meeting with “him”?

“No…I think it’ll be easier for me to organize if you tell things in the order they occurred.”

Elluka once more put the tip of her pen to paper.

I see…Well then, I will start from where we left off.

Enbizaka’s peaceful everyday life—was shattered by a murder.

The body of Miroku Kai’s wife Mei was found by passerby one morning on the middle road.

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chipfics · 4 years

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Rest Easy

crossposted from Ao3 Characters: Alyssa Trevelyan, Cullen Rutherford About: Relationship fluff with some spicier implications/mentions. Set in a Trevelyan Siblings AU.

Summary: Alyssa has trouble sleeping- but she’s not the only one. 1700 words.

Sleep came scarcer and scarcer each night lately.

Alyssa's quarters in Skyhold were comfortable, spacious, well warmed by the fireplace. Much different from the drafty little cabin she had shared with her brother in Haven. Now he was in the quarters just below hers in the main tower, hopefully sleeping peacefully with no whispers from nightmares or worries of any kind. And hopefully no pains from the mark on his hand. She knew it still bothered him at times.

Alyssa herself had many little things to keep her mind in ill company now.

The Ostwick Circle had fallen suddenly, before the war between the mages and templars had fully begun. The rebellious there had staged a bloody uprising, and it had left Alyssa with little choice but to flee the place entirely or be singled out as one of the rebels by the templars who would not pause to ask any questions.

She had stayed with a Dalish clan after that, until word of the Conclave reached her and she chose to attend.

She had already developed sleep problems by the time she reunited with her brother there for the first time since leaving Ostwick. Most of the dreams that overtook her were full of the smell of the Circle burning, the noise of the fighting, the ache of her feet as she trekked further north to avoid getting her family caught up in the mess that was the spreading mage rebellion.

She still dreamed of that day even now. And now also of Haven burning, of Tristan facing Corypheus down alone and being lost in the blinding white of an avalanche, thought dead for days before a rear patrol found him exhausted and starved in the snow.

By some strange twist of luck she was now settled within the position of Inquisitor as well. So many people whose lives and faith depended on her. Every word she said could be twisted for good or ill now and the anxiety of the notion kept her awake as much as trying to avoid the nightmares.

And so tonight she found herself curled against the arm of a sofa in front of her fireplace, reading through a copy of Hard in Hightown and drinking tea that had long since cooled.

She knew the crime serial almost by heart now. It had been a favorite of hers for quite some time, and it was still an odd thought to realize she was now close friends with its author. Still, even as familiar as the words and imagery were they provided enough distraction to keep her calm. And failing that, she could always dress herself again and take a brisk walk. There were night patrols and it wouldn't be unsafe as long as she stayed within the fortress walls.

She was in fact beginning to consider doing just that when she heard the knock. A few quick, hard raps that didn't match the knock of the runner that usually interrupted her sleep with urgent business of some sort.

Alyssa paused, at first not sure she had really heard it. Several seconds passed, and she heard it again. Real, then. She marked her place and stood, smoothing out her shift and reaching for her nightrobe. She pulled it on and tied the belt then padded across the floor and to the door. She hesitated only a moment before opening it just a crack. Whoever it was, they needed her for something to be there at nearly two in the morning.

It wasn't a runner standing in the darkness of the hallway like she expected.

It was a man, tall and strong, wavy blonde hair mussed and hanging into his face. A five o' clock shadow was on his chin that she would know anywhere.

“Cullen?” She asked incredulously, and opened the door the rest of the way to get a better look.

His hair wasn't combed back the way she was accustomed to seeing, and it gave him a very different air. Disheveled, almost, but still very attractive.

“I'm sorry,” He said quietly by way of greeting, “I know it's late.”

“I wasn't asleep,” Alyssa informed him, “it's all right. Do you need something? Is anything wrong?”

She reached a hand out to grasp one of his. Bare, knuckles scarred and nails cut short. Now that she looked closer he was wearing his nightclothes without so much as a robe or jacket to keep warm on his walk from his own quarters. Alyssa frowned.

They were in a relationship- she had no qualms about him being here, even if it wasn't something he had ventured to do before. Cullen was shy in some ways, and very proper most of the time.

...Very improper other times, she recalled, but pushed the thought of his desk under her back from her mind. This wasn't the time.

“I,” Cullen hesitated, “It's not...I mean, there's no work you're needed for.”

He brushed his hair back out of his face. It fell back into place. Alyssa had a brief thought that she wanted to run her fingers through it.

“I couldn't sleep,” Cullen finally said, “And I...started walking, and somehow I ended up here.”

Alyssa pulled him forward. He offered no resistance and she tugged him through the doorway and into her quarters, into the warmer air. She closed the door behind them.

“It's frigid tonight,” She reprimanded softly, “You should have at least put on your boots.”

Cullen responded by drawing her into his arms and bending to bury his nose in her hair, made a brighter orange than normal from the light of the fire. There was the sound of him inhaling deeply and letting out a long sigh.

“You smell nice,” Cullen murmured. Alyssa pulled away and bounced onto her toes, kissing his chin.

“I took a bath after returning from the Graves this evening.” She said, “Come sit down, Cullen.”

She led him to the sofa, where they both sat down. Her book sat forgotten already on the coffee table and Cullen fiddled with his hands, stared absently at the fire.

“Bad dreams again?” asked the Inquisitor. Cullen nodded dumbly.

“I...” He looked up, “You said you weren't asleep? After riding all day yesterday?”

Concern shaded his features and Alyssa squeezed his hands with her own. The smile she gave him was weary.

“I have bad dreams of my own,” She said, “About Ostwick, about Haven...Sometimes it's easier to just do without sleep than...”

“I see,” Cullen said. He laced their fingers. “I am sorry.”

“It's all right,” Alyssa said, “I feel better with you here anyway. Seeing your face always heals me.”

The kiss he gave her in response was warm, tender. It fell more on the corner of her mouth the first time, so he leaned in again after. She smiled, pressed back, and once they had parted again she picked up her book.

“You can read with me, if you want,” She offered.

“A bedtime story?” Cullen's voice was tired but tinted with humor, “Aren't I a bit old for that?”

“I guess you don't want me to do the voices then, do you?” Alyssa quipped back easily. Cullen laughed.

“Lie back,” Alyssa said. Cullen listened, propped himself against the arm of the sofa with a throw pillow. Alyssa leaned back against him and opened the book.

“I'll start from the beginning,” She said.

The next half hour passed calmly. Alyssa read just loud enough for Cullen to hear and he let his hands wander a little, pressed kisses to the side of her neck every so often. His body was chilly to lie against at first, but he warmed up to the temperature of the room quickly enough and soon his hands ceased their aimless journey and settled around Alyssa's waist.

When his breathing started to slow, she closed the book. “Sleepy?” She asked.

“Hmm,” Cullen replied, “Your voice has a soothing effect.”

The book found a place on the coffee table again and Alyssa turned over onto her stomach. She left a trail of light pecks along Cullen's jawline and moved her hands to sift through his hair. It was as soft as it looked, she decided. And she was starting to feel the need to close her eyes as well.

“We can stay here,” She said quietly, “Or sleep in the bed.”

“You want me to spend the night?” Cullen asked groggily, “People will talk.”

“I mean, you're already here.” Alyssa replied, “People already talk. And I don't think you get to talk to me about what's scandalous after taking me against your desk.”

Cullen's eyes snapped open and his face flushed. “That was-” He sputtered, “Listen, you seemed to enjoy it quite well, so-”

Laughter bubbled out of her and Alyssa kissed him silent. “I was teasing you, love.”

Cullen sighed. “The bed,” He said after another moment, then added, “So I can get you out of those clothes later if I have a mind to.”

“Going to work on memorizing all my freckles, I suppose.” Alyssa kissed his nose and stood, happily considering the prospect of Cullen's hands all over her again. Rough, strong, warm hands.

For now though, it could wait. She shed her robe and nestled against Cullen snugly in her bed, hummed old lullabies as he curled his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. Soft songs from her childhood, which had the commander snoring softly in only minutes. Alyssa was not far behind him.

The nightmares were not so bad that night. Fewer, less violent. She drifted in and out but after each waking she felt Cullen next to her, resituated closer to him if necessary, and found rest again in moments.

At one point just after dawn she awoke to find him half leaning over her, eyes boring into her face. The fire had died down and the light from the tall windows cast a pale gray about the room. It framed Cullen in a cool, wintry sort of glow. Alyssa smiled blearily at him.

“We'll have to get up soon,” She murmured sleepily.

“We can sleep in an hour,” Cullen replied just as soft. “But I haven't rested so well in years, I'll have you know.”

“Me either,” Alyssa said.

“Perhaps I should stay up here more often?” Cullen bent to kiss her. She lifted a hand to card through his hair, hummed.

“Just stay every night,” She murmured against his lips. He hummed wordlessly in response and kissed her neck.

The day would have to start eventually, but they had time to sleep or fool around a little as they pleased. And Alyssa felt rested in a way she hadn't felt for months now.

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition #cullen rutherford #trevelyan siblings AU

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thegreenfairy13 · 4 years

Text

No Country For Heroes (Part 3)

Originally a drabble written for the prompt ‘beg’ by @justsimplymeagain ,this escalated into a full story. You can read it here on Ao3.

Plot: The GCPD turns Jim Gordon in for their protection. Set during the No Man’s Land story arch.

Jim was a man who used to believe in innocence. He didn’t need proof, didn’t look for it, never searched it where it came to his conviction that ultimately the human race was - at its core - good, worth his protection. But that’s the thing with faith, it’s unprovable, it can be shaken, and it can get lost. Children, who are regarded as the prime example of innocence, can do horrid things without even realizing the brutality of their act, oblivious as they are. Maybe that’s true innocence though, doing the most hideous crime and not understanding the implication of your action.

Oswald looks at Jim with huge, shining eyes, his mouth forming a perfectly round ‘O’. It’s the expression of a kid when being told that, yes, it can have the entire birthday cake, all the presents are indeed theirs, and there won’t be any repercussions for just diving right in and taking it all.

He reaches out with a movement full of adoration and even with the cop slumped against the bedframe, clutching the metal for support, Oswald seems to be staring up at him. Biting his lip and tilting his head, he offers Jim his hand for support.

Enraged, the cop swats it away, watching how the gangster’s features contort in rage. He really is a kid, Jim thinks, as Oswald huffs out an offended breath, instantly pulling his hand back. The cop waits for him to go into one of his rants, his little fits of rage, in which he starts lashing out like a kid who had been denied his will.

Jim can’t help it. Despite, or maybe because of his tremendous fear, he fights back. He was never one to sit in the corner for long. Hell, he went up against Falcone, tore down the city’s old order single-handedly, shook Gotham to her core, tossed her into chaos, and gave his everything to pull her out of the abyss. If the Penguin wants not only his life but his entire being, he’ll have to earn it.

It is stupid, Jim knows that. But he’s just the kind of man who reacts to immense terror with rage. He’ll bite back, fight like a force of nature until his heart stops beating. They have that in common, he and the Penguin, that untamable temper.

“And this woman, Grace, she was right,” Jim pants once he can stand somewhat steadily. He grinds his teeth together in an attempt to suppress the violent shivers and waves of heat rocketing through his body. He can almost taste the darkness about to take him over. His body is failing him, or protecting him - Jim isn’t quite sure - as every fiber of his being screams for him to lay down and collapse again.

“You said you want to turn me into a zombie,” he accuses, still not really capable of fully grasping the concept. His initial shock morphed into incredulity as the minutes passed by. He partly wants to laugh all of this off, drop back on the bed, and trust that once he wakes, he’ll be back in his shitty apartment, waking from a particularly vivid nightmare.

And then this is just Oswald. The boy he pulled from death’s grasp, the little wannabe who had a gigantic crush on, adored him like a lovestruck teenager.

Jim wishes he had the strength to pin him to the wall like all those times before, fingers just itching to squeeze the life out of him because he always knew. He always had a foreboding the gangster would be his downfall.

There had always been something about him. Something that likewise attracted and almost disgusted the cop, a draw he fought but could never truly deny. He should have known he lost the fight the third time the Penguin rose to power, became the King of Gotham once more, and instead of being the man of the law Jim once vowed to be, he didn’t use all the obvious evidence connecting the criminal to his elegant system of organized crime but decided he’d rather see him thrown from his throne again than behind bars.

It had been Oswald he chose to sacrifice his principles for - all of them - for better or worse. It started with them murdering a man together instead of arresting him, went on with betrayal when turning a blind eye to Oswald being tortured, and now this shall end with a vengeance.

Jim always hoped though. Hoped the love the Penguin felt for him would protect him. But he said he used to love him. Now with the protection gone, Jim feels desperation rising up his throat. He said he still felt desire though, and that's the chance Jim tries to latch onto.

“Don’t you realize that if you turn me into your puppet, you’ll just have a doll with my face?” he barks out. “How is that not taking love by force as you put it?” he demands to know.

The muscle in the corner of the criminal’s jaw twitches, silently indicating the oncoming storm.

Unable to stop himself from pushing the criminal further, Jim raises his chin defiantly. He must be a sight, rumpled and beaten down, not even remotely attractive, and still, the Penguin follows his every movement, completely enraptured.

"If that is what you want, I'll get down on my knees and suck you off," the detective offers, and he's not joking, even if it sounds like he does.

Oswald weighs the cane in his hand deliberately, plays silently with the handle they both know contains a deadly dagger. The mobster blinks and Jim is almost certain he tries to hide some excess moist but that might only be his hope again.

“No, I don't want you to,” he then says quietly. “Not like that.” The Penguin sighs with compassion. “Jim, really, you should sit down. You’ll pass out again,” he adds gently. “Can’t really catch you with my bad leg,” he informs him with a wry smile.

“As if you’d care!” Jim snaps.

Oswald looks genuinely shocked. “I’d care a great deal,” he replies. “I thought that was obvious.”

Leaning heavily on his cane, he chooses his next words. “The thing is, my lovely detective, I might have, and I apologize for that, not picked the accurate words when presenting you with my plans for you. Arkham,” he pauses, scrunches up his face at mentioning the name of the facility, “Zsasz...they can’t procure anything that isn’t there. Not really.”

Looking up at the detective, the gangster observes every twitch of Jim’s face. “When Zsasz reprogrammed Butch to follow my orders, he played on his desire for guidance, for a firm hand. He only broke free when being presented with something he desired much more - and that happened to be Fish. When Strange reprogrammed me to be good, he played on my desire to be good .”

Oswald lets out a shuddering breath. “I wanted to be good, loved. I wanted to be someone you could want. That was the reason it worked so well - for a while.” His voice cracks and Jim senses there is still much unsaid. He remembers the criminal coming to him after being released, the excitement written all over his face when turning up at his doorstep, the amount of trust…Jim swallows heavily around the lump forming in his throat. He didn’t believe him back then.

“I’m sorry,” Jim whispers, meaning it. There’s not much more he can offer.

Averting Jim’s eyes for a moment, the gangster looks at the floor in shame. Shaking off the unwelcome feeling, he directs his gaze back at Jim. “That’s why it would work exceptionally well on you, though.”

“How?” Jim asks, caught off guard for a moment.

“Because I’m convinced,” Oswald starts walking up to Jim, all but trapping him against the tiny bed, “it works better the more the other man wants what you are forcing him to do.”

He pushes Jim onto the bed, meeting almost no resistance. “Cause see, Jim,” he continues as he gently wraps the blanket around the detective’s shoulders, “brainwashing doesn’t mean forcing someone to do something they don’t want to, but eliminating the characteristics, the barriers in your personality preventing you from doing what you denied yourself originally.”

Oswald places his hand lightly on Jim's shoulder. It’s a motion meant to help him focus on the mobster’s words.

“You can’t stop shaking,” the Penguin remarks. “Poor thing,” he adds, and there is it again, this worried tone. Damnation comes in the form of the most captivating man Jim has ever met.

“I’m cold,” he chokes out, reaching for Oswald’s hand.

“I know,” he nods. “I’ll take care of that,” he vows. “I should have never treated you like that, my Jim.” A blissfully cold hand is being placed on his forehead. “The way you have been treating me all those years…”

Jim wants to offer an explanation but Oswald is quicker - as always. “You just couldn’t admit you wanted me too, isn’t that right?” His eyes widen as he comes to the conclusion and Jim lacks the strength to protest.

It’s not untrue anyway. Biting his lip, Jim tries to hide his reaction yet to no avail. His eyes drop to the Penguin’s mouth and for a moment, he allows himself to imagine what giving in would mean.

Something changes in the Penguin’s posture then. He tenses up and relaxes at the same time.

“You’d have to wipe out what you like about me in order to force me to act out on that desire though,” Jim argues. “I’d never ,” he emphasizes, “I could never choose you knowing what you did, what you’ll continue to do.”

Oswald nods silently.

“You have no remorse,” Jim acknowledges. “There’s nothing you wouldn’t do to gain power. And you don’t care how many get hurt in the process,” he finishes.

“I’m very driven, just like you,” the Penguin admits lightly. Pursing his lips, he studies Jim’s disheveled form. “Don’t think I’m not considering what exactly I’d have to break to get what I want,” he hisses.

The detective grits his teeth in defiance.

“But then we share so much,” Oswald muses. “All you’d have to do was see the world from a different angle, from my angle to be precise. If you’d just understand.” Leaving the sentence hanging, he tilts Jim’s head up.

“And if I told you I do understand?” the detective challenges. “Being selfish is so much easier,” he scoffs.

To his surprise Oswald laughs. “You know, I wanted to wait until you are better,” he shares. “But you are right. I am selfish. And now that I have you in my possession, I can’t wait.”

At a snap of his fingers, the door opens, revealing none other than Victor Zsasz.

“Jim,” he promises, “True selfishness means absolute freedom. And I have every intention of giving it to you.”

And so it starts.

#gobblepot #fanfiction

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ellebabywrites · 6 years

Text

SISU - Zhang Yixing

Type : Oneshot // Mafia!au // Angst // Smut

Word Count : 3878

Author Note : This is a birthday surprise request for @exogotmethirsty !! Happy Birthday my lovely and I hope you like this Lay story !! 💕🥰💛 ( this isn’t proof read because I had to do some stuff after I’d finished so please excuse any grammar or spelling mistakes 😬)

You’d wanted a fresh start , a do-over , to hit the reset button on the disaster that was your life . So naturally you did what everyone does in a quarter life crisis and moved away to an unfamiliar city , far from everyone you knew . Perfect .

Things had been going fairly well your first week in town despite everything being so unfamiliar . You’d finished setting up your apartment , finally getting all of your books organised and photos from back home framed and set up around the place ; found a perfect little cafe you can work from and even found what you’d thought was a good route for your late night runs , leading you past the river and back around to your apartment complex . Well , you had thought it was a good route right up till this very moment , where you stood completely lost on the corner of the street .

It was dark now and still being unfamiliar with the neighbourhood you felt uneasy . Every muscle in your body was begging for a hot shower and some rest , if you could only figure out the way back .

“Need some help ?” A voice spoke from behind you making you jump in surprise . Awkwardly laughing off the embarrassment while placing a hand on your chest , trying to calm your heart , you looked at the man in front of you . Not one to be naïve to the situation you promptly shook you head , “no thanks , I’m good” and with a soft smile you turned away and walked down whichever road , not wanting to be left alone with a stranger in the dark , hoping it would lead you back to the warmth of your place .

After a minute of walking you heard footsteps approaching you from behind , glancing to the side you saw it was the same man . Your heart began thumping rapidly in your chest as a state of panic swept over . You sped up your pace slightly before the man had reached out and grabbed hold of your wrist .

“Do you even know where you are ? It’s not safe around here .” His grip on you was firm but not painful and his eyes read more worried than predatory . Seeing you staring back at him slightly panicked and speechless , he gently released your wrist and let out a deep sigh .

“Look I’m sorry for scaring you but it’s really not safe out this late and you look pretty lost . Where do you live ? I’ll walk you home .”

Taking a moment to look him over preparing for anything to happen , you swallowed the lump in your throat and eyed him cautiously .

“I don’t even know you .” His eyes lit up slightly hearing you finally answer him, “I’m Lay . Now you know me , c’mon I’ll make sure you get back safely .” He gestured you to follow him and for some reason you did . Not feeling the uneasiness you had initially, you spoke up again , “You don’t know where I live .” Lay stopped walking and spun around to meet you with a playful grin , “Then you should tell me huh ?”

Looking around trying to figure it out alone , the ache in your legs remind you that you’re truly screwed without accepting his help . Sighing and looking into his eyes for any signs of malice once more , you give in and tell him your address .

“Great , well it’s definitely not this way ,” he laughs pointing the direction you were heading, “c’mon it’s not far.” The two of you start walking back towards your apartment .

“New around here....?” Lay asks , trailing off at the absence of your name, “Y/N and Yeah , I uh - I just moved here” you answered shyly, not being able to hold eye contact with him . Lay was possibly the most beautiful person you’d ever seen and not even with the current situation could you deny the way he was making you blush . Still , he was a stranger . A very pretty stranger , but a stranger nonetheless and you remained weary of him .

“Well Y/N , some advice from someone who knows this place well , you shouldn’t come out here alone this late again. It’s not safe .” He tells you , looking deep into your eyes with a stern expression telling you he was serious .

“Why not ? Why isn’t it safe ?” Your curiosity and distaste for being told what to do bubbling up , now you were the one looking at him , waiting for some explanation . Lay looked back at you and smiled , ruffling your hair as if the pair of you were close friends , “don’t worry about it , just , stay safe .” He turned back to face forward and saw your building was just up ahead , “there you go , back safe and sound” you followed his eyes and the relief that ran through you at the sight of the familiar building had you letting out a sigh of content .

“Thank you Lay , I would have been wondering around all night” you laugh gently and move to look up at him . Lay stares back and offers a warm smile , reaching out yet again to pet your hair, “no problem Y/N just don’t get lost again, “ his face hardening slightly he continues “I’m serious about it not being safe , especially for a pretty girl like you .”

Before you can react he’s sending you a playful wink and walking away , leaving you to stand outside and watch him as he goes , wondering what the hell that meant.

As you made your way inside your apartment and then the shower , your mind kept wondering back to Lay’s words . Its not safe . What did he mean by that ? You hadn’t seen anybody else while you were out , there wasn’t a particularly high crime rate in the area (not as high as anywhere else at least) , what had made him so adamant about it not being safe for you ? Seeing the time you decide to ignore those questions for now , you allow yourself to crawl into bed and drift to sleep , much to the relief of your sore muscles .

After leaving Y/N , Lay’s phone started ringing , letting out a groan at who was obviously calling and the scolding he was inevitably about to receive , he reluctantly picked up.

”Where the hell are you !?”

“Relax I’m on my way back now” he answered calmly.

“Yeah you better be , what the fuck were you thinking leaving your post ? You left Chen to sweep the area alone !”

“I did sweep the area , there was a civilian out so I took her home , calm down Suho I’m almost back at the base you can yell at me there . ”

Hanging up , Lay moves quickly through the empty streets , anxiously preparing for his leaders reaction to both him leaving while on the job and now hanging up on him mid-yell . Being apart of EXO meant that Lay’s focus was always on the team , ruthlessly doing their job ; but seeing you look so innocent running around their territory completely lost , he couldn’t help but take pity and offer help . Seeing your big eyes glistening up at him in uncertainty , hearing your voice stutter as you tried not seem too afraid - somehow you had pulled at his heartstrings and he now felt that taking care of you was going to be another responsibility . One he was more than happy to have .

Weeks went by since that first meeting with Lay and you had yet see him again . Falling into a routine , your new life was beginning to feel much more comfortable .

Most days you spent at the cafe working on your blog and arranging meetings with clients . Being an already established beauty blogger you’d easily managed to make connections with local brands and companies who wanted their products featured . So here you sat yet again , empty coffee cups surrounding your laptop as you furiously typed away trying to finish up a piece about skin care . The messy bun from this morning now drooping into some type of knot at your shoulders and strained eyes from staring at a screen all day really completing the look of exhausted you were definitely going for .

It was real miracle that you’d found this place . A strong WiFi connection matched with the calm atmosphere and smell of vanilla making it an ideal place to camp out all day and work ; as well as the more than accommodating staff that kept you topped up on coffee . It had become your safe haven . One that was promptly interrupted when you heard someone pull up the chair in front of you .

“Hello again ,“ a familiar voice said making you look up , “Lay ?” He looked beautiful again . Dark hair messily falling onto his face ; doe eyes taking in your slightly disheveled state “working hard I see “ he teased smirking at you . Leaning back on his chair to make himself at home , you realise he wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon .

“Yes actually , did you need something ?” You quipped . It wasn’t his fault you were in a bad mood but you were seriously behind and needed to get this article posted today , no time for whatever game he seemed to think was going on between the two of you .

Lay found you irritability rather amusing and for a second wondered how far he could push it , but right now there were more urgent matters to discuss .

“I need you .” Was all he said . Face stoic and eyes dark , no hint he was kidding from his voice .

“E-excuse me ?” The confession taking you by surprise and snapping you out of the mood you’d been in . Hands starting to sweat from the tension , you shifted under his gaze .

“I need you to come with me Y/N .” Lay kept his voice firm and face serious so there would be no room for argument - but you’d met this guy once and while yes he seemed nice enough then , his demeanour now was starting to scare you . Sensing something was wrong you decided it was time to leave .

“I’m sorry I don’t know what you’re talking about but I- I have to leave actually....” you stuttered out , moving to pack away your things and make a swift escape , but Lay was too fast . Grabbing your arm to stop your movements he looked at you seriously , keeping eye contact and dropping his voice low .

“Y/N . It’s not safe . You need to come with me right now “

“I don’t even know you ,” you hissed ripping your arm out of his grasp “Now leave me alone .”

And then there was chaos .

Barely making it towards the door before gunshots and screaming filled your ears . Everything happened in a second , glass shattering around your now crouched body , people running every direction trying to get away , eyes glassing over as you lied there frozen .

Hands grabbed onto your shoulders and lifted you up , coming face to face with Lay he held your face in his hands making you focus on him instead of the mess around you .

“Y/N we need to get out of here , right now . You need to stay with me , okay ?”

Nodding along quickly , past hesitation gone now only thinking about getting away from whatever the hell was happening .

Lay moved quickly as another bullet shot straight between the two of you , he grabbed onto your hand and pulled you out the back of the cafe , never once loosening his grip . You’d noticed that about him , how he’d always keep a firm grip on you , never enough to hurt only enough to keep you close .

“Y/N move ! Come on , into that car !” He pulled you towards a black jeep and all but threw you in to the back , as the door shut behind the pair of you , two shots were heard coming towards your direction .

“Drive D.O !” Lay shouted to whomever was sitting up front , pulling you into his side and holding your head down to shield you from the attack . “Stay down Y/N , it’s okay I’ve got you ,” he leaned in and whispered into your hair .

Eventually things seemed to come to a stop and all that was left was a stiff silence only broken up with your suppressed whimpering . It all happened so quick . One minute your stressing over a late blog post and the next you’re dodging bullets and pressing up against the handsome stranger that walked you home that one time , in the back of a random car going god-knows where . The initial shock and adrenaline had worn off and now you were left with the panic .

Once the car pulls to a stop Lay leads you out and into an old brick building . He held you close to him as you made your way through the dark hallways ,

“Where are we ?” You asked him nervously , hands still shaking and eyes glossy , you didn’t know if you could trust him yet but something told you to stay with him .

“Don’t worry I’ll explain everything ,” you could hear hushed talking from somewhere but before you could question it Lay laced his fingers with yours and takes you up some stairs .

Leading you into a bedroom he sits you on the bed and takes a second to pace before kneeling down in front of you . His usual playful expression replaced with one of worry . Looking you over , holding onto your hands tightly . “Are you hurt anywhere ? Are you alright ?” His voice was hushed as he examined you for damage ,

“Lay what’s g-going on ?” Voice hoarse you looked up at him begging for some kind of information but he avoided your stare , continuing just to inspect your arms and hands.

“Did you get hit ? Are you hurt ?”

“Lay !” Having enough you shouted , snapping him out of whatever zone he’d entered , “tell me what the fuck is going on !”

Sighing and looking down , Lay stepped away from you . “I’m sorry Y/N.”

Bracing yourself for an explanation , already feeling worn down from the events of the day , you were reaching your limit .

“I’m apart of EXO , we’re a mafia group that runs this area . Recently an enemy group has been trying to bring us down and take our territories ; when I helped you home that night someone saw us and you’ve became a target . We found out about it this morning and that’s why I came to get you earlier , but I wasn’t soon enough . I’m sorry Y/N , it’s not safe anywhere for you right now , not until we can get rid of the enemy group.”

After a rushed explanation of what was happening , Lay stood in front of you waiting for a reaction . Usually people try to run or start crying hysterically when they find out they’re involved in EXO’s business , but you just sat there staring back at him , un-phased .

“Are you kidding me ?” You ask , voice monotonous . Out of all the things you could get caught up in , of course you would stumble into a gang war .

“So I can’t leave right ?” You deadpanned , the exhaustion starting to wear you down and the familiar situation leaving you numb . Lay was shocked . He expected screaming , anger , an escape attempt ; but you simply rolled to lie down on the bed and shut your eyes . “Great .” You whispered , more to yourself than him .

Thinking it was best to give you some time to take everything in , Lay leaves you to rest .

It had been roughly 3 and a half weeks since the incident at the cafe and consequently since you’d started staying with EXO . At first it was a nuisance , you not wanting anything to do with this life again , not wanting to be watched by 9 men constantly . 9 men that you’ve since gotten to know a lot better . There was Suho , who from what you could tell was the leader ; he didn’t talk to you much but kept a watchful eye whenever you were around , but as leader you suppose that was his job . Then there was Chen ; Chanyeol ; Xuimin and Baekhyun - they seemed to be the field workers , constantly going in and out on “patrols” . You spoke to them whenever they were around , and after a week or so they had gotten used to your company and opened up to you a bit more . Next there was D.O , he was quiet and quite intimidating but after observing him for a while ; the way he interacted with you and everyone else when not focused on work ; you could tell deep down he was a soft sweetheart , especially for his members . Kai and Sehun were the most welcoming of you , not treating you as a delicate flower like the others did which you appreciated , it made you feel like less of a burden .They spoke to you as friends , granted the topic of the current events never came up but they took interest in what you had to say about your life and work . Work particularly feeling like a distant memory as any attempts to update your blog “could be tracked by the enemy” as Lay had told you . Lay . The one you had grown closest to . You’d gathered he was field worker before from your first meeting ; but since the cafe he had chosen to stay close with you , never leaving you in the building alone or making sure that you were with at least three of the other guys before he would leave .

It wouldn’t be too far off to say you’d become attached to Lay in this time . Call it a crush , call it Stockholm syndrome - all you knew was you didn’t like being far from him and the more time you spent with him , the closer you felt you needed to be .

Tonight almost everyone was out , bar Suho ; D.O and Lay who were all downstairs . You were lying on your bed reading a book Xuimin had given you a few days ago ; when you started to hear the guys shouting .

“I’m not leaving !”

“You have to , we need you to check the 5th quarter ! Everyone else is tied up !” , that was Suho , clearly agitated by Lay’s slacking recently.

“No I’m staying here ! End of discussion .”

You heard them go back and forth for some time before a slammed door and sound of footsteps coming towards your room .

“He’s crazy !” Lay rants as he falls beside you on the bed , “actually insane !”

“What’s wrong ?” You ask calmly, moving to face him and stroke his arm soothingly .

“ He wants me to go to the 5th quarter , it’s 2 hours away and I would have to stay for a few days , what if something happenend when I was gone , I wouldn’t be able to get back here in time . I told him I’m not leaving you for that long and he didn’t like it .” Lay turned so he could mirror your position and face you .

“If you need to go , I’ll be okay . The others will be back soon anyway and D.O is still here . If you need to go , go .” You whispered closely to him , feeling his breathe fanning you .

“No .” He whispered back , hand moving to brush the hair out of your face , “I’m not leaving you .”

“Lay ...”

“I am not , leaving you .” His lips coming dangerously close to your own , the temptation far too much for either of you . The tension between you had become almost unbearable as of late , lingering touches and stolen glances weren’t enough anymore . You needed him . He needed you .

Before you knew it , your lips were smashed against his , teeth clashing in desperation , hands pulling off each others clothes in a rush . Burying your face into his neck you started sucking and biting at the smooth skin . He smelt like sandalwood and it was intoxicating . A low moan escaped his lips once yours reached a spot under his jaw ; Lay moved you to straddle him , gripping onto your hips with an unfamiliar harshness that made you shiver .

You impatiently started to grind down onto him , you’d been waiting for this for so long now you just wanted him to take you as soon as possibly .

“Lay ... please “ you whimpered against his lips , desperate for more .

“What do you want baby girl , tell me what you want , I’ll give you anything you want ,” he replies , hands moving to unclasp you bra hastily and squeezing your breasts .

“Want you to fuck me , please fuck me Lay , I need you so bad please ...” moving back to make more marks on the other side of his neck , hands fiddling with his belt .

Hearing you beg for him , Lay quickly flipped you onto your back and removed the last of your clothing ; he reached out for a condom before you stopped him , bringing his hands back to your breasts ,

“No condom , I want to feel you , let me feel you , please ...” whispering seductively .

“Fuck Y/N , you’re so sexy , my God ,”

Pumping himself a few times , Lay lines up with your entrance , one hand on the bed next to your head to keep him up and the other holding your leg around his waist . He started slowly , thrusting into you gently so you could get used to him before he couldn’t take it anymore and sped up .

“Fuck fuck fuck , oh my God Right there ...” you moaned out , the pleasure becoming too much , feeling him inside you , filling you up so perfectly , bringing you to the edge . “I’m , I’m so close , so close , please don’t stop ,”

His hands moved to lift your hips off the bed slightly so he could pound into you deeper and faster , you were sure there would be bruises left by his fingers on your hips but you didn’t mind , the ones you’d left on his neck would match perfectly .

“Are you close baby girl ? Are you going to come for me ? Touch yourself Y/N , come all over me ,” leaning over you his teeth tugged at your ear whispering profanities as you snaked your hand down to rub circles against your clit .

Feeling the knot in your stomach finally release your orgasm washed over you , shaking with pleasure . The pressure of it all making your walls clench tightly around him , Lay followed soon after . He moaned loudly into your neck , leaving soft kisses trailing up to your lips .

The pair of you stayed like that for a moment , him still balls deep inside you , bodies sweaty and pressed together , just staring lovingly into each other’s eyes . Eventually he rolls off of you only to pull you back into his side , kissing your crown and whispering sweet words to soothe you , “I’m not leaving you “ he repeats into your hair and you kiss him back tenderly .

Just as the two of you were drifting into a blissful post sex slumber , there was a loud bang from downstairs causing the room to shake slightly . “What was that !?” You asked panicked . It was too soon for the others to be back and there was no reason for anything to be happening with Suho and D.O .

“I don’t know ,” Lay gets up quickly and starts to dress , motioning for you to be quiet , “you stay here I’ll be right back .” He went to leave the room , eyebrows furrowed and breathing shallow . “Lay ...“ you started to protest but the look he sent you told you this wasn’t a discussion. “I’ll be right back baby , just stay here okay , I promise .”

And then he was gone . You quickly put your clothes back on and sat patiently on the bed , waiting for Lay , or anyone for that matter , to come back to you . But nobody did . The silence was deafening and it took all your will power to stay in the room and not run down to see what was going on yourself .

And then you heard gunshots .

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harley-quinnn · 6 years

Text

Buried Treasure

Joker x Reader

Masterlist | Request

{A/N} I knocked this one out because it was recent and I wanted to make sure it was done for you before I started posting the older requests! I hope you enjoy, and thanks for bein’ my first request back! Xo

Prompt: Hi! Can I request a joker x reader where the reader is Frosts daughter and frost never told J about her but he ends up finding out and likes her? Lls. If that makes any sense ❤

Warnings: None, dahling, none. Allow me to ease you back in to my vile smut.

You threw your phone onto your bed in a huff. This was the third time this week your father has had you locked up in your room for reasons unknown to you. It wasn’t an evil thing, you weren’t being mistreated, but it annoyed you nonetheless.

He kept odd hours, after all he was Jonny Frost; The Jokers right hand man. It never really occurred to you that his line of work wasn’t particularly normal growing up. You weren’t sure you knew what normal was once you were old enough to realize that most people held jobs in offices or stores. When he began to lock you away, you decided to wait until you heard him unlock the door again. Sometimes, you wouldn’t hear the lock on the door click open again until at least daybreak.

“Stay inside, I’ll unlock the door soon. Just know you’re safer in here,” he’d say.

Knowing better than to question him, you’d simply agree, kiss him goodnight on the cheek and watch the lock turn in the doorknob. Tonight, however, was a different story. You turned the lights off in your room, pretending as though you’d “go to sleep” after he shuffled back down the hall. This time, you crept over to your window and opened the curtain just a bit, peeking through to see what was going on.

You weren’t visible with the darkness of your room spilling past the curtains, and you kept an eye on your dad as he walked outside, crossing his arms as a purple Lamborghini revved into the driveway and came to a shrieking halt. Your jaw almost hit the floor as you saw the only man you’d ever feared saunter out of the drivers side and toward your dad.

“The Joker,” you whispered. He looked angry as they got caught up in conversation in the driveway. You cracked your window just a tad in order to hear what was going on, but with no success. Curiosity began to sink in, enticing you to attempt leaving your room.

You stood up, finding it hard to peel your eyes from the scene below you as you slipped into a sweater over your negligee. Finally looking away, you approached your dresser and grabbed a bobby pin. You knew how to unlock your door, and you very well could’ve any of the previous times. But you trusted your father before anything and anyone else. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust him this time, you just knew you could steal a quick peek and go unnoticed. You just wanted to see him up close for yourself, and maybe get a little insight into what your dad really does.

CLICK.

The lock pops open and you slide the bobby pin into your hair for safe keeping, making your way through the house. There was no more than a lamp lit in the living room as you passed by, avoiding the floorboards you knew would creak even though they were still outside. Once you approached the door, you stood perfectly still, holding your breath as you moved to steal a glance at Gotham’s most infamous criminal.

“J, I told you,” your father said, “I’m on his tail, I’m this fuckin’ close. He’s a dead man.”

“I told you, I don’t want him dead. I want him alive so I can tear him down myself,” The Joker responded, his body animated as he spoke.

You shouldn’t have been as surprised as you were. Did you think he was selling cookies? You asked yourself. It was a sight to see as you watched them carry on, The Jokers metal grill catching the light that lit up your front door. He was far more attractive than you were expecting, and you almost felt embarrassed for thinking so. His cocky demeanor held your attention the most as you leaned closer into the door absentmindedly, your fingers discreetly wrapping around it as your eyes followed his every move.

Their conversation was interrupted as his piercing blue eyes met your soft {E/C} ones.

“Who the fuck is here, Frost?” He spat, staring straight at you. “Are you trying to... set me up?”

You gasped as your father turned around, quickly leaving their line of sight and pressing your body into the wall. Shit. You did the only thing you could think of next. You ran. You bolted back through the house and to your room, closing the door behind you and silently praying that they would dismiss what they “thought” they saw. Against your better judgement, you crept up to peer through the window again, just to see if they had ignored you.

BANG. You jumped at the sound of the front door flying open, searching around your room for a place to hide. Footsteps and your dad stammering over his words from other parts of the house was all you could hear.

“No ones here, J,” he said, causing your stomach to lurch. “I’d never set you up, you know that!”

You watched the light under your door, suddenly feeling like a little kid in a scary movie. A shadow approached it as though on cue, and you dashed to your closet, trying to make yourself as undetectable as humanly possible behind the doors.

The sound of pressure meeting the doorknob invoked fear in your heart. You had forgetten to lock the door, but it was too late now. A quiet gasp escaped your chest as the door flew open.

“See, no ones fuckin’ here!” Your dad yelled, the panic in his voice is clear as bell, causing The Joker to second guess that he was telling the truth.

The lights flip on, and you can see him walking around, absorbing the contents of your room. The walls were {F/C}, the decor inside of the room fitting you to a tee. He looked surprised, as though he had no idea that Jonny had even had a life when he wasn’t working for him.

“Is this it?” he asked, incredulously. “You’re keeping your most, prized, possession from me?”

“J, she’s...” His voice wavered only slightly, sounding as though he knew he’d lost you before it even happened. “She’s all I have.”

You watched him through a small crack between the doors. He swayed on his feet, his pale skin was almost like porcelain, riddled with tattoos and scars under the rolled up sleeves of the dress shirt he wore. A large, sinister grin tugged at his red lips, and you were sure your heart stopped beating for just a moment. He was the city’s -maybe even the worlds- most dangerous man, and there he was, in your room.

“Frost,” he said, his voice mimicked that of hurt despite the smile on his face. “I’m offended.. You have me.”

His eyes darted to the closet, and though they were locked with yours, you were unsure if he could tell. Something about him made you want to reach out and touch him. To prove to yourself that he was real. His eyes shifted back to your father, who stayed silent. Your breathing was anything but steady as he began to walk, running his fingers along your dresser and over your shelves. He seemed to inspect everything he could before he stood directly in front of the closet doors. A hand brought itself to your mouth as you bit down on your knuckle and closed your eyes.

Please don’t open the door, please don’t open the door...

The doors opened slowly, very, very slowly. The light from the room washed over your closed eyelids as you exhaled. With a flutter, your eyes oepned again just as slowly in return, and the tall man before you was terrifyingly more handsome up close. There was no time to blush, but it was as though he could detect your sudden arousal as you screamed at yourself to push the thought aside.

“{Y/N},” your dad sighed from the opposite end of the room, sounding as though he were pleading for forgiveness.

The Joker’s eyes scanned your features as you brought your hand down to your chest, nervously fiddling with a silver necklace you wore. Your voice was caught in your throat as his eyes quickly followed your fingers. He snorted, running his finger under the chain against your warm skin. His touch electrified every nerve ending in your body.

You knew they were wrong, so very wrong, the things that briefly crossed your mind.

“All that work I give you, and she’s still wearing silver,” he tutted, not taking his eyes off of you as he spoke to your dad.

“It was my mother’s,” you defended, your eyes catching his with a furrowed brow.

“Oh, and she speaks!” He exclaimed sarcastically, leaning his head back and extending his arm.

The way his hair fell disheveled around the tattoo on his forehead secretly excited you. You loved a rough man, and there was nothing about him that could be seen as soft. You caught sight of your father reaching for the gun he carried under his belt quietly behind The Joker, but your eyes widened at the sight, giving him away. The Joker quickly pulled his own gun from his holster, pointing it at your dad.

“Dad!” You called out, stepping forward before feeling a hand holding you back by your shoulder. You gulped, stopping dead in your tracks. So many feelings were brought to the forefront at once, and you weren’t sure where to turn with any of them.

“I’m disappointed in you, Frost,” he said, his tone that of scolding as his icey eyes raked over your frame. “She’s so pretty.. The worst crime you’ve committed is keeping this doll hidden away from me her entire life...”

You immediately locked eyes with your dad.

“My whole life?” You asked, oddly hurt that The Joker, in fact, had no idea you existed at all.

“You have to understand {Y/N},” he responded. “I didn’t want you to get wrapped up in-“

“Blah blah blah...” the joker interrupted, clutching your necklace in his hand and yanking it off of your neck in one swift movement.

“My necklace!” You squeaked automatically, eyes wide with shock and distress. He leaned down to hold your stare, sparks flying in your chest. His lips, stained in crimson, tempted you more than you’d like to admit.

“You’ll learn to appreciate the finer things when you’re on my arm, princess...”

#the joker #joker x reader #jared leto joker #fanfiction #the joker fanfiction #joker fanfiction #jared leto #Harley quinn #the joker imagines #the joker oneshot #joker one shot #Suicide Squad #the joker fandom #the joker x reader

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cinema-tv-etc · 6 years

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“Just the facts, ma’am” — “Dragnet” (1951 - 1959) (1967 - 1970)

“Ladies and gentlemen: the story you are about to hear is true. Only the names have been changed to protect the innocent.” Such a cool opening for one of the most memorable “cop” TV shows of all time. Sgt. Joe — My name’s Friday. I’m a cop — Friday (Jack Web) and his detective sidekicks (played by Ben Alexander and Harry Morgan) managed to keep us glued to the television with their subtle tactics in apprehending criminals because all they really needed in their quest was... just the facts. So cool. Dum, de, dum, dum! Check out this very cool short video.

“Stifle it, Edith!” — “All In The Family” (1971 - 1979) Archie Bunker (Carroll O’Connor) had a way with words. He called his liberal son-in-law, “Meathead”and his faithful wife, “Dingbat “ (and he insulted about every stereotype you can name) without getting his hand slapped from the politically correct community. He was so lovable, though, right? Whenever his wife Edith (Jean Stapleton) had an opinion, he managed to stifle her — most of the time. Check out the time she stifled him here.

“Who Loves Ya Baby?” — “Kojak” (1973 - 1978)

Kojak (Telly Savalas) was probably the only New York City detective on TV who made the Tootsie Roll Pop sexy. And, didn’t he start the bald head craze? (OK, Yul Brenner in the “King And I” helped get this trend started). Who loves Ya, Baby? We do, we do! (Look here for clip.)

“Good Evening” — Alfred Hitchcock Presents (1955 - 1962)

Maybe you had to be there, but no one could grab an audience with an introduction quite like Alfred Hitchcock. His “series of unrelated short stories covering elements of crime, horror, drama and comedy about people of different species committing murders, suicides, thefts and other sorts of crime caused by certain motivations” kept us coming back for more each week. It seems like seven years just wasn’t enough for this film director and his spell-bounding stories. Take a look at his one-of-a-kind introductions here.

“Would you believe... “ — “Get Smart” (1965 - 1970)

“Get Smart” (battling the forces of KAOS) had an embarrassment of riches in the catchphrase department. Maxwell Smart, Agent 86 (Don Adams) kept his co-hort, Agent 99 (Barbara Feldon) and the Chief (Edward Platt) on the tips of their toes every time he opened his mouth. “Would you believe” these words of wisdom: “Missed it by that much!,” “Sorry about that, Chief,” and “I asked you not to tell me that.” Yes, we would believe anything you say, Agent 86. Take a peek at these “Get Smart” funniest moments here.

“To the moon, Alice!” — “The Honeymooners/The Jackie Gleason Show” (1951 - 1959) Who could forget the wild and crazy antics of New York City bus driver Ralph Kramden (Jackie Gleason), sarcastic wife Alice Kramden (Audrey Meadows), NYC sewer worker, Ed Norton (Art Carney) and his wife Trixie (Joyce Randolph)? These four feisty Brooklyn residents tested each others patience on a daily basis which was the reason millions of viewers tuned in once a week. Needless to say, Alice Kramden knew how to draw blood which is why Ralph gave her the what for... “One of these days, Alice, you’re going to the moon!” “Just One more thing...” — “Colombo” (1971 - 2003)

Peter Falk made “Colombo” a household name with his unique way of solving the “whodunit” mystery in this clever television detective show. The Fashion Police would have a field day with this disheveled, cigar-smoking detective. (Oh, that rumpled, beige raincoat... how we loved it.) The criminal always thinks he/she has the upper hand in the investigation only to be caught up in the web of Colombo’s increasingly intrusive presence. Just when the suspect thinks all is well, the polite detective (who always gets his man/woman), has “just one more thing“ to ask.

“Goodnight, John Boy” — “The Waltons” (1971 - 1981)

This Great Depression Virginia mountain family sure knew how to grab our hearts. Each episode focuses on the “family of John Walton Jr. (known as John-Boy), his parents, John and Olivia Walton, their seven children, and John’s parents Zebulon “Zeb” and Esther Walton. John-Boy (Richard Thomas) is the eldest of the children (17 years old in the beginning), who becomes a journalist and novelist. In the signature scene that closes almost every episode, the family house is enveloped in darkness, save for one, two or three lights in the upstairs bedroom windows. Through voice-overs, two or more characters make some brief comments related to that episode’s events, and then bid each other goodnight, after which the lights go out.”

“Let’s be careful out there.” — “Hill Street Blues” (1981 - 1987)

“Hill Street Blues“is an American serial police drama that chronicled the lives of the staff of a single police station located on the fictional Hill Street, in an unnamed large city, with ‘blues’ being a slang term for police officers for their blue uniforms.” In the opening, Sgt. Phil Esterhaus (Michael Conrad) does the police roll call, concluding with his signature line: “Let’s be careful out there.”

“May God bless.” — “The Red Skelton Show” (1951 - 1971)

“The Red Skelton Show” was mainly known for the comedy sketches performed by Red himself which included an array of comedic characters (Clem Kadiddlehopper, San Fernando Red, George Appleby and Freddie the Freeloader). He also had guest star performers including John Wayne, Phyllis Diller, Jack Benny... the list goes on forever. His opening monologue often included his two favorite seagulls, Gertrude and Heathcliff. At the end of each show, he ended it with thoughts that went something like this.

“Lucy! You got some ‘splainin’ to do!” — “I Love Lucy” (1951 - 1957) That crazy redhead we affectionately know as Lucy Ricardo (Lucille Ball) was never at a loss for words... or hair brained, good-natured mischief. Her cohort, Ethel Mertz (Vivian Vance) was somewhat skeptical at times to play along, but the two BFFs made life interesting for their respective spouses, Ricky (Desi Arnaz) and Fred (William Frawley) to say the least. When Lucy tested Ricky’s patience one too many times, he screamed the only phrase that came to mind (each time): “Lucy, You got some ‘splainin’ to do!” Don’t we all use that phrase ocassionally when we get pissed at our significant others (no matter what gender they are)?

“Yada, Yada, Yada” — “Seinfeld” (1989 - 1998)

Let’s give a big round of applause to Jerry (Jerry Seinfeld), Elaine Benes (Julia Louis-Dreyfus), George Costanza (Jason Alexander) and Cosmo Kramer (Michael Richards) for giving us the best nine sitcom seasons of our lives. Did you know it was actually George’s new girlfriend, Marcy, who came up with the “yada, yada, yada” expression? If you don’t do anything else today, watch this Seinfeld montage.

“Come On Down!” — “The Price Is Right“ (1956 - 1965) (1972 - Present)

I don’t care how old you are, you have heard — at one time in your life — a game show announcer say, “Come on down!” You know the game show: “The Price Is Right.” And you know the master of all game shows: Bob Barker. The point is, no matter what year you were born, somewhere, on some network, “The Price Is Right” has been on your radar. Unless you live in a third world country. Check out this “Come on down!” video with Bob Barker.

“Sock it to me.” — “Rowan and Martin’s Laugh In” (1967 - 1973) The comedy team of Dan Rowan and Dick Martin hosted this psychedelic, fast-moving comedy series that featured series regulars Lily Tomlin, Ruth Buzzi, Judy Carne, Goldie Hawn, Arte Johnson, Jo Ann Worley, Gary Owens, Alan Sues and Henry Gibson. Judy Carne became the butt of the joke when she said, “Sock it to me.” They doused her with water or gently assaulted her with rubber objects. Be careful what you say out there.

“Dy-no-mite!” — “Good Times” (1974 - 1979) “Good Times“ lets us in on the lives of Florida (Esther Rolle) and James Evans (John Amos) and their three children, J.J. (Jimmie Walker), Thelma (Bern Nadette Stanis) and Michael (Ralph Carter). “Episodes of Good Times deal with the characters’ attempts to survive in a high rise project building in Chicago, despite their poverty” ... and hilarity ensues. Fess up, you know you said the word “Dy-n-Mite!” every time something good happened in your life back in the day, thanks to the adorable J.J. (Although nobody says it better!)

“God will get you for that!” — “Maude” (1972 - 1978)

Who remembers that “Maude“ was a spin-off from “All In The Family?” Yes, Maude (Bea Arthur) was Edith’s cousin — who somehow got the spunk gene in the family. And who remembers that Maude was a “liberal, independent woman living in Tuckahoe, NY with her fourth husband, Walter (Bill Macy)?” And if you didn’t know all that... (say it).

“De Plane, De Plane” — “Fantasy Island” (1977 - 1984)

Picture it: a remote tropical island resort where all your dreams come true. Well, not exactly. There were glitches in those wishes. Mr. Roarke (Ricardo Montalban ), assisted by his adorable miniature side-kick Tattoo (Hervé Villechaize) had the best of intentions of making his guests live out their fantasies, but what kind of show would that be if everything were perfect? You could count on one thing. The beginning of each episode, a plane arrived with their (we’re presuming rich) guests. Tattoo always alerted Mr. Roarke, by pointing up to the sky, announcing: “De Plane, de plane!” Welcome to Fantasy Island.

“What U Talkin’ ‘bout Willis?” — “Different Strokes” (1978 - 1986)

“Different Strokes” starred Gary Coleman and Todd Bridges (Arnold and Willis Jackson), Conrad Bain (Phillip Drummond) and Dana Plato (Kimberly Drummond) who were perhaps one of the first racially mixed families on television. Arnold didn’t hold back when Willis came up with some bizarre and/or surprise monologue that got his goat. “What u talkin’ ‘bout, Willis?” Too cute!

“Book ‘em, Danno.” — “Hawaii Five-0” (1968 - 1980)

This may be my all-time favorite detective show based in Hawaii (sorry “Magnum P.I.”). And it may well just be because of one of my all-time favorite detective catchphrases: “Book ‘em Danno.” Detective Steve McGarrett (Jack Lord) worked so well with Danny Williams (James MacArthur) in each episode to put the bad guys in hand cuffs. (And who didn’t love that theme song!? Check it out here and turn the volume up and enjoy!)

“Say the secret word and win a hundred dollars.” — “You Bet Your Life” (TV version, 1950 - 1961)

Groucho Marx was probably the first choice to host this quiz show that featured a show chocked full of competitive questions — and some hilarious conversation. As it turns out, the comedian was the perfect host. As in all quiz shows, there is money to be won. But, with the right “word,” a contestant could win an extra hundred big ones. All they had to do was say the secret word. Easy Not so fast. How many words are in the English language? But we loved to hear Groucho announce: “Say the secret word and win a hundred dollars.” Sometimes they did. And that was seriously exciting.

“Say goodnight, Gracie” — “The George Burns And Gracie Allen Show“ (1950 - 1958)

https://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/catchphrases-classic-tv-shows_b_8142724.html

#tv catchphrases #classic television #alfred hitchcock #the honeymooners #i love lucy

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uci-fanfic-requests · 6 years

Note

Can you please write a Noel and the Mortal Fate crossover?

Admin Notes: I’d be lying if I told you I played through all 7 parts so here’s the deal: Noel becomes a deceased one! -Admin Hirahara

“Hirahara, don’t run so quickly.” Kinoshita called after his current mission’s partner, letting out a sigh when Hirahara showed no signs of stopping. “It’s too early to get separated, and this is a big town.” Not to mention, the buildings all looked similar and were tall. If Hirahara took off down an alley, they probably wouldn’t find each other in a while.

“This place is suuuper weird!” Hirahara yelled back, making a sudden right. Kinoshita started picking up the pace as well to keep up. They didn’t need to look around to come to that conclusion, though. The case report read as follows: LaPlace was a town that used to be run by the mafia. However, the reason for the mission had nothing to do with that. There are rumors around that there is the ghost of a girl with no arms, though her objective is unknown, she appears to have the ability to tear up the town. That was quite a problem, for a deceased one to cause trouble for the living. Kinoshita was supposed to find this girl, and at least try and talk to her before things got too troublesome. Or at least, he was supposed to.

But at the moment, it seemed more like he was just running after Hirahara, who found everything “really cool” and had to “touch it”. Really, he should have come alone. But Rokkaku was pretty insistent: bring someone with you on the mission. And Hirahara was the only person willing to come. Although, looking at it now, it was possible he only wanted to go explore a new place.

“Oi, Kinoshita! Come check this out!” Hirahara waved to the emerald eyed escort from just up ahead, where two streets intersected. “Deceased one located!” At that, Kinoshita hurried over, looking to where Hirahara was pointing. Indeed, there appeared to be a young girl in a ripped red dress, dragging herself along the road. Her walking seemed… mechanic, at best, and she didn’t appear to have any arms. The image of her disheveled body pulling itself on the creaking legs was out of place, deceased one or not. It was hard to tell exactly, but it looked like she was mumbling something under her breath. Her eyes, though yellow, seemed to glow.

“Miss,” Kinoshita frowned, slowly walking towards the girl. The moment he spoke up, though, the girl appeared frightened and took off, much faster than she had before. “Tsk.” He’d just wanted to talk. “Come on Hirahara, let’s go after her.” He started running in the direction, wondering how someone who was moving so slowly before had gained such speeds. They were already losing sight of her. Well she is a deceased one…

There were surprisingly few people out on the streets, and it was easy to slip passed anyone who didn’t take notice of the two escorts. From the looks of it, the girl had disappeared into a municipal building. It wasn’t long before Kinoshita and Hirahara were inside as well. There was a stage and a grand ball room or sorts, and upon the stage was a grand piano, two statues of angels to the sides. Although a beautiful ivory, Kinoshita couldn’t mistake the strange dots of red upon the piano. As he went to inspect it, he heard Hirahara say something like “I’m going to explore more.”

As he thought, the grand piano was stained with blood, dripping into the keys. But what was more disturbing was that when Kinoshita turned his back, he heard it begin to play. Though there was no one there, it was almost as if there were hands dancing along the keys, tracking red fingerprints on each note played. “…” Unable to ignore it, Kinoshita finally turned around. The melody seemed to tell a story of some sort: A young girl who wanted to play at the opening ceremony, was tricked into giving up her arms and legs for an incorrect cause. A devil, feeling sorry for her, gave her artificial limbs to stand on, but it was already too late. She had died, having been thrown off a roof and lost too much blood.

“…How sad…” Kinoshita sighed, running a hand along the side of the grand piano. Saeki would have loved to see this. He couldn’t spend his whole time listening to the piano, though. He was here on a mission. He continued walking around the building for a bit, but he feared that the deceased one had run off already before then. Just as he was entering the main lobby once more, he caught a glance of the torn up red dress, running out the door. It’s her! Kinoshita immediately began chasing after the girl, watching as she darted into an abandoned building near the waters.

“I wonder why she came in here…” Kinoshita looked the place up and down. It seemed like the standard grey building, soon to be torn down. He had planned to check every floor for the girl, but it fell short as soon as he heard a yell from the roof. “Someone’s up there?” He hastened his steps, hurrying up the steps as fast as he could. On the roof, there was a man with glasses standing dangerously close to the edge. The young girl slowly dragged herself closer to him, her low voice audible even from where Kinoshita was.

“I don’t want to die… I don’t want to suffer… I just wanted to be the featured pianist…” Her wails felt more desperate than spiteful, and for a second, Kinoshita wondered if this girl could really be called a deceased one. “You told me the president of Stella Stage was a horrible person… No one told me I would have to pay such a cost… I don’t want to be in pain…”

“Hey, miss,” Kinoshita tried again, gaining the attention of the ghost girl. When she saw him, she looked like she wanted to take off again, only this time, there was really no where to go. “Listen, you can’t go messing with the living. You’ll have to receive punishment.” The girl immediately looked scared, shaking her head violently.

“I don’t want to suffer… I don’t want to be in pain… help me…” Those didn’t feel like the regular cries from a deceased one either. There did seem to be some ominous shadow casting around her, though, but Kinoshita wasn’t entirely sure it was actually because of the girl. It was almost like… a large, dark crow was looming over her.

Kinoshita really had just wanted to talk this out with her, but before he could say anything else, he heard Hirahara yelling from behind him. “Oh, it’s the deceased one!” He charged passed Kinoshita, aiming his shovel for the girl.

“Hirahara, wait-!” But the golden eyed escort was already striking down on the girl, who had nothing to defend herself with. It looked like her shadow had stretched out a large claw, but it was no match for Hirahara’s brute strength. When the escort landed, he pivoted and swung up, striking the girl with the tip of the shovel. She fell on her back, unable to get up from the lack of arms.

“By~e!” Hirahara grinned, swinging down with his shovel as hard as he could. With one finally screech, the girl vanished, probably disappearing to the underworld. “Mission complete!” He gave Kinoshita a thumbs up.

“Ah, I wanted to talk to her more…” Kinoshita sighed. It would have been nice to hear her out before we sent her to hell…

“Hey, Kinoshita, what should we do about him?” Hirahara pointed to the man with glasses, who appeared to still be in shock from seeing the girl. “He’s mumbling all sorts of strange stuff.”

“She came back to haunt me…” The man wheezed, his hands on his head. “Because I tricked her to get rid of that guy in charge of Stella Stage. Because she wanted revenge. But you took care of her so she can’t do it anymore…!” At this realization, he slowly began to laugh. “Hah… ha ha… And you devils can’t do anything without the contract. Ha. Ha ha ha.”

“Did you say tricked…?” Kinoshita asked, his expression holding a much darker overtone. This person tricked the deceased one? That doesn’t seem fair at all. Not to mention, now that the two escorts had gotten rid of her, this man could continue whatever he was up to. And it didn’t sound good. No matter how he phrased it, Kinoshita just felt like he had been used by this man as well. Take care of the deceased one. That was the mission, which they carried out. But still, to leave this man the way he was… “That’s too bad. We don’t deliver punishment for the living.” With that, he glared, his emerald eyes like daggers. “Come on Hirahara, let’s go home.”

—

“Thanks for the report,” Rokkaku nodded, looking over the papers Kinoshita had turned in. “It seems like this incident went out without a hitch.”

“Really, it was Hirahara who took care of the deceased one,” Kinoshita glanced down. He was still feeling uneasy about this whole mission, how the girl really didn’t seem like a typical deceased one who caused trouble for the living. He finally had to ask. “Rokkaku-san, what exactly will happen to that deceased one?”

“Hm?” Rokkaku glanced up from the report, noticing Kinoshita’s slight uncertainty. “Well, it appears her crimes are minor, at best. Though her feeling of resentment and revenge are clearly there, it would seem she didn’t actually harm any of the living. I’d say… She may serve a sentence, and then go back to the stream of reincarnation.” The captain put the report down, stamping it as “completed”.

Kinoshita, feeling somewhat satisfied with this answer, smiled and nodded, then excused himself from the office. As he walked down the halls, he ran into Saeki, who appeared to be walking to the music room. “Oh, hey,” Kinoshita waved, hurrying to catch up. “I’ve got this melody stuck in my head that I was wondering if you’d be willing to play…”

#Underworld Capital Incident #gokuto jihen #獄都事変 #Noel and the Mortal Fate #higyaku no noel #被虐のノエル #saekino #kinoshita (underworld capital incident)#hirahara (Underworld Capital Incident)#anonymous #UCI fanfic requests #requests #Admin Hirahara

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ivegot7scenarios-blog · 7 years

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You’re Beauty I’m Your Beast || Pt. 1

Author: Ivegot7scenarios

Genre: Romance/ Drama

Rating: PG-13

A/N: This is the first installment of a new fairy tale series that I’m beginning. JB is first up and his story is Beauty and the Beast. I hope that you all enjoy it!

Summary: Your relatively normal life is turned upside down when you find out that your father has been kidnapped by one of the city’s biggest crime bosses. You have no idea what to expect but you know that your life will never be the same.

Word Count: 1,554

[Masterlist]

Long ago, in a kingdom that has long since been forgotten, there lived a prince. He was the most handsome man in the land, but sadly his features did not match the type of person he was. He could me mean and selfish. So much so that among his servants and the villagers in his kingdom he was referred to as the Cold Prince.

One day there came a knock at his front door. His visitor was an old woman. Haggard and travel worn, she asked him for a place to stay for the night. Had she not looked to disheveled and had her appearance been more pleasing then perhaps he would have said yes but he was a shallow man, and vehemently refused. He ordered his servants to get her out of his sight, lest he be infected with her ugliness.

A winter storm was fast approaching and the prince’s servants begged him to have mercy and let the woman in but he still didn’t listen. Just as he was about to shut her out she warned him not to judge others on their appearances. Then she offered him a gift, a single rose, one more beautiful than any rose that had ever existed. He scoffed, took the rose from her and dropped it on the ground, dismissing her with a flick of his hand. Suddenly the wind began to howl, whipping around them violently. It was then revealed that she was actually a beautiful enchantress. She had come to test the Prince and he had failed. She saw now that he felt love for no one and was blind to the true nature of people.

He attempted to beg her for forgiveness but the damage had already been done. As his punishment she laid a curse on him, transforming him to a beast, every bit as hideous on the outside as he was on the inside. Then in a moment of kindness the enchantress took pity on him.

She told him that if someone where to love him, despite his beastly appearance then the curse would be broken, but it had to happen before the last petal fell from the rose he had so viciously denied. If the curse was not broken before then he would forever remain a beast.

The prince knew that no one would be able to love him. Resigned to his fate he locked himself away in his castle. Five years had passed since then and during that time the rose had lost many petals. The deadline was fast approaching but the prince didn’t care, for who could ever learn to love a beast?

You rolled over in your bed, pulling the covers over your head trying to hold onto the last remnants of sleep, but as you moved the book you had been reading the night before slipped and landed on the floor with a loud thump. The resulting noise chased away whatever sleep you might have still gotten. You sighed and rolled over, blinking into the light of the sun that shown through your window. You then sat up scratching your head as your head with a yawn. A quick glance at the clock had you scrambling out of bed.

“Crap, crap, crap,” you muttered under your breath as you searched for something clean to wear. You looked at your clock again and yet another five minutes had passed without you noticing. You cursed under your breath and grabbed a sweater pulling it over your head before charging out of your bedroom.

You dashed down the stairs of your small home, grabbing things you needed as you went by and stuffing them into your bag. “Y/N? Is that you?” A voice called out to you from the kitchen.

“Yeah, dad it’s me! I’m late for work so I can’t stop to talk. I’ll see you later. Love you bye!” You said in a rush toeing your shoes on before stepping out and shutting the door behind you.

Unbeknownst to you, your dad was sitting at the kitchen table but he wasn’t alone. There were two men in suits standing behind him in case he decided to run. A third man was sitting across from him, the only one who seemed to be completely relaxed between the four of the,. He was sprawled out, his form claiming the space he was occupying. His eyes were dark but there was a light in them. This was not a light that spoke of mercy, it was the kind that only appeared when something generally interesting was happening.

The corner of his mouth quirked up in a smirk and he leaned forward onto the table looking at your father. “I thought you said you never spoke to your daughter.”

“Please,” he begged. “Don’t hurt her. She has nothing to do with this.”

“That’s a matter of opinion,” The man said. “I think now she has everything to do with this.”

He looked up at the men that stood behind your father and nodded at them almost imperceptively. In and instant they hauled him to his feet and lead him to the door. The other man watched passively, not a trace of emotion on his face. He left an envelope on the table and looked around, what he was looking for he wasn’t sure but he must have not found it becuast he left without a second glance.

You somehow managed to get to work on time and from there your day went pretty well. You even finished a few of the big projects your boss had given you to do and while you were trying to finish another one of the other girls in the office got your attention. “Psst, Y/N!”

“What?” You didn’t look at her, keeping your eyes on your computer your brow furrowed in concentration.

“There’s someone who wants to talk to you.”

“Huh?” You chose that moment to look up and locked eyes with the most handsome man you’d ever seen. From the looks of him he was an officer. One that you happened to be gawking at. “C-can I help you?”

“Yes, actually you can.” He smiled and your hear skipped a beat. “My name is Officer Park Jinyoung and I just wanted to ask you a question.”

It took you a moment to process what he’d said because you were still thinking about his smile. “Uh..sure...yeah...I’ll answer your question.” You could have kicked yourself just then. What kind of person talked like that?

He smiled again and you had to stop yourself from asking him to marry you then and there. He then handed you a photo to look at? “Have you seen this man before?”

The man in the picture was every bit as handsome as the one standing in front of you. His dark hair was slicked back, his eyes just as dark and brooding. The picture was taken from afar but you could tell that his skin didn’t have any flaws. His jaw was strong and you wondered what his mouth would look like if he were smiling rather than scowling.

“Sorry. Never seen him before. Who is he?”

“His name is Im Jaebum. He’s the head of a local crime syndicate. We’ve heard that he’s been in the area.”

You found that hard to believe but then again you supposed you really didn’t know who a person really was. The officer gave you his card and told you to contact him if you saw anything suspicious. He smiled again as he left, leaving you there wondering how the world was blessed with that kind of beauty.

Your work day continued normally after that and pretty soon you were on your way home. When you walked in you noticed that none of the lights were on. Your father would have gotten home hours before you and ti was unlike him to not text you, telling you he was going to be late. The air around you didn’t feel right. It was heavy and opressing and you were finding it hard to breath.

“Dad?” You called out, hoping that the power was just out and he was at the breaker box, trying to fix it. “Daddy?”

There was no answer.

You saw the envelop when you walked into the kitchen, standing out against the dark surface of the table cloth. You picked it up with shaky fingers but you didn’t know why you were scared. It was probably just a bill, or so you hoped. When you read the letter inside your world went dark.

Y/N,

You don’t know who I am but I’m currently in possesion of your father. Don’t worry, he’d not hurt. Yet. But I don’t know how long he’s going to stay in this condition. I’ve included instructions for you to follow. If you don’t then I can guarantee that you will never see your father again. Don’t involve the police. I’ll know if you do. Go to the address at the bottom of the page. See you soon.

-JB

Without a second thought you grabbed your keys and walked out the door clutching the letter in your hand. You had no idea what you about to walk into but you didn’t care. All you knew was that you were getting your father back, one way or another.

#got7snet #got7 #got7 scenarios #got7 scenario #kpop #jb #Im Jaebum #jaebum

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searingdestiny · 7 years

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I attempted to write a short story? I am not good by the way and this has not been re read or fixed I just wanted to try. so @songofgallifrey @ryantothetenth @coordinatorromana @lufiemstark and anyone else that wants to give this disaster a read through? tell me what you think and what I need to fix? (constructive criticism please? I am not a good writer and could use some help)

He was not in the mood for people today. That was simply how he was feeling if you could even call it a feeling. More often than not he simply wanted to read or admire the collection around him without annoyance. That did not appear to be the case today for as he was leaving his office he could tell there was an intruder. With a simple turn and a less then impressed look to his features he saw the Doctor sitting in his office chair. He stopped what he was doing and closed the door slowly turning his attention to the very last person he wished to see at any time of any day. He inhaled deeply and as he exhaled he stood in front of his own desk looking at the Doctor.

‘I will give him the benefit of the doubt this one time because if I do not I shall be here for an eternity trying to persuade him to leave’ he thought to himself as he waited for the other to speak.

Silence.

The Doctor had a look in his eyes the likes of which he had not seen before today. It was like a someone had corked a very impressive storm brew behind them. The Doctor looked as though he was trying to keep his emotions in check and was here not because he had wanted to but because he needed to be. This was a worrying sight as he knew full well the Doctor never asked for his help unless it was a ‘once in an incarnations life time event’. The silence continued for quite some time as the Doctor appeared to be trying to formulate his words carefully.

Eventually he sighed and closed his eyes as he spoke with a less then enthusiastic tone “I need your help” he began but then stopped and hesitated to continue.

The man considered the other for a few brief moments visually and took in the words he had spoken. The Doctor looked dishevelled, tired and what was more worrying was that he was alone. There was no one here with him and the biggest absence was his Tardis which he could not see or sense anywhere nearby. “I can see you are in dire need of help however why my help specifically I cannot tell. As far as you and I were concerned I am and will always be your last call for help. There are many others more suited and willing to help you however the fact that you have come directly to me and without a Tardis...” he frowned looking the Doctor up and down trying to discern a reason for this random visit. “You know as well as I do that we do not sit on the same set of morals and we most certainly do not like each others methods” he continued “For you to be this desperate and...alone...” something bad had happened and he could tell that it was serious. “I shall lend you my ears for now and we shall see where your story leads and what services I can provide” he answered as he walked over to the decanter, filled a glass with ice and poured himself a drink. He took a sip keeping an eye on the unkempt hero doing his best to keep his composure so as not to make the Doctor feel threatened. “May I now ask what the meaning of this intrusion is? Or do I have to guess?” he kept his tone cool and collected as always.

The Doctor looked up at him with deep-set eyes that seemed glazed over with fog “I...don’t know where to begin...” he stated his words were honest. He sat forward in the chair and rested his elbows on the table while his face was placed in his hands. He looked as though he might start crying at any second but no tears spilled. Yet. “I cannot recall where I left my tardis and I am sure I was alone...Braxiatel...please...I left her somewhere dangerous” he stated with a hint of urgency to his voice. “Somewhere dark and cold where Time Lords are forbidden from entering” he was breathing heavily now.

Braxiatel took another sip of his drink enjoying the flavour and chill it sent down his throat. He arched an eyebrow slowly at the Doctor “Yet you, a Time Lord, insisted on entering such a place? Then again I dare not put it past you. You have done far more dangerous and reckless motions with your tardis and yet I am the one you come to begging for help” he spoke calculatedly and coldly. “Are there really no others you can call on for help with this situation, I remind you, that you got yourself into” he stated bluntly. “You have entered once before why not enter again or is there something else you are neglecting to mention?” he asked seriously his eyes narrowing slightly. He returned to stand before the Doctor now in a position to judge his words and actions. “This isn’t just about your Tardis now is it Doctor? To get me involved, someone well known for delving into the shadows, you must be truly desperate indeed” he sneered a little. There was more to this and he could tell just by looking at the Doctors expression.

It was one of absolute contempt.

“You have done something that has crossed the line of your moral campus haven’t you? You’ve done something that has swayed you so heavily in the opposite direction that you have no other choice but to rely on me to help you. Am I getting warmer?” he asked with a simplicity that was spine chilling. Braxiatels face was placid as he wondered what horrible thing the Doctor could have possibly done that would bring him here. “I must say it is quite a difference to see you display such an expression. Then again who am I to judge...so...back to the matter at hand” he calmly changed the topic as he could tell the Doctor was becoming slightly angry. “What grievous crime have you committed that has brought you to my office” he stated again.

The Doctors face contorted into many different emotions in the space of a few seconds. Altering between disdain, anger, frustration and then eventually he settled on afraid. He looked Braxiatel square in the eyes stating something that shocked Braxiatel to the core. “My Tarids is on Skaro. They have my Tardis Braxiatel and they have full access to her” his voice was tiny and shaken like a child admitting he had done something horribly wrong. “They had a trap waiting for me...they teleported me here...to you” he looked Braxiatel dead in the eyes.

Braxiatel stared at his the Doctor in slight shock before he began to chuckle and then folded his arms. “Doctor...you have been played for a fool...” his words were like blades “I shall help you...under one condition...” he leaned in on the desk as close as he could. His eyes were like looking into a blizzard with a hint of danger about them as well.

TBC

#braxiatel #doctor who #gallifrey #irving braxiatel #the doctor #I tried?

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jo-the-schmo · 7 years

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Breaking... Ch.3

Part 1 Part 2

A/N: So this chapted is short and kinda boring, sorry about that. I’m mostly using it as set up for the rest of plot. Also I will warn y’all now, time jumps will be a thing, not in this chapter but in the next one. I hope you guys enjoy even if its terrible <3 Tags: @iamnotthrowingawaymyshit @literally-melonkitty @deltablue202 @renae-writes

I had to re-add the tags sorry guys ;-;

Word count: 2081

Warnings: Vomit, Shakespeare (very important sorry), curing is ineivtable for me.

Breaking Boundaries

As the three of you entered into the study you instantly felt the air change. Alexander and Philip were both being oddly quiet. They both walked past you, Alexander sat down at his desk and Philip stood beside him while you were standing in the center of the room. You shot them an inquisitive look, Alexander’s eyes seemed to be searching yours for an answer to some unspoken question. Philip seemed to be debating with himself about something.

“Is something wrong?” You finally asked after a moment of uncomfortable silence. Alexander sighed.

“Miss Y/N, your story is not something that anyone with honor should take lightly. I practiced law, I practically perfected it. As a lawyer I would suggest you stand trial against this ‘suitor’ so that he can be put through the proper punishment for his crimes.” His face was serious but not cold. Philip moved around the desk.

“Father’s right, you can stay with us as long as you’d like but it might be wise to find him.” Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit! Last time I had this talk with anyone I agreed. But… I can’t agree to this, in this time there is no guy to put away. I wish I had a name to give them, they really look like they want to help.

“I’m sorry but I can’t give you a name. If he finds out that I’ve been conspiring against him, it will not end well. I appreciate how much you want to help me; I really do, but this isn’t something that I can disclose just yet.” I won’t be here long anyways, or hopefully I guess. Philip stepped up to you, his eyes were filled with sorrow, he was sorry on your behalf.

“If you cannot tell us his name then at least give us your last name so that we may be on the lookout for anyone speaking of you.” He said with care. I don’t want to make this any more complicated than what it has to be, but they just want to help me so much… Okay, I’ve already told Rachel my real last name but if I give them a fake one right now I can give her a reason not to tell them. Generic name, what’s a generic name I can say? Philip stared down at you with a pleading expression against his artful features.

“Fine… Taylor, Y/N Taylor.” Was that even a common name during this era?

“Taylor? I do not know of any person who goes by that name…” Alexander was a genius; I have to be careful!

“My family is from England but I was born here, my father immigrated here and began his career in North Carolina, most of our wealth came from before my parents settled here.” Was that convincing? Please tell me it was. Alexander nodded along, he didn’t seem satisfied with how the conversation turned but he was understanding.

“Very well, but just remember this Miss Y/N, you are welcome here. As an orphan myself, I have a tender spot in my heart for those who have come from that background. If you ever change your mind and you wish to take my advice, do not hesitate to ask.” He gave you a warm smile but Philip still didn’t look pleased. He forced on a smile, clearing his throat before he spoke.

“Would you like to sit down?” Your eyes softened. Is he disappointed in me or something?

“Yes, I would actually.” You chuckled tiredly and Philip followed you to the couch you were previously sitting at, your book still lying on the cushions. Quickly picking it up, you eagerly flipped to the page you left off on.

“A Midsummer Night’s Dream? One of Shakespeare’s lesser appreciated works on page.” Philip said as he sat down beside you, Alexander perked his head up.

“Ah, an intriguing choice, I do not see many choosing to read that, most people favor Romeo and Juliet, Hamlet or my own personal choice, Macbeth.” Alexander stated while simultaneously asking you as to why you chose that.

“I enjoy the complexity of it. Shakespeare has a bit of a habit to making simple stories seem complex. Romeo and Juliet for example, it’s a beautiful story but it isn’t difficult to summarize. Romeo and Juliet, not meant to fall in love, their fear to tell the truth causes the deaths of two of their closest compatriots and their own deaths. But this story takes those same ideas and truly makes them complex. The anguish and history between all the characters makes the ending more interesting…” You realized you were rambling. Damn you Shakespeare for instilling my need to dissect everything! Alexander nodded along in agreement. Philip simply stared at you in awe, a familiar smile dancing on his lips.

“You have quite the mind Miss Y/N! I must say, your character reminds me very much of Titania, very tactful and… forthright seems to be the right word.” Alexander chuckled to himself.

“Really? I’ve always seen myself more as Helena.” You retorted. Alexander looked oddly surprised by the statement.

“I would be inclined to agree with Father, if Titania were to not have fallen in love with Oberon and Theseus. Her feelings for them always confused me about her character.” Philip said with thought.

“Right? How did such a strong woman fall for such horrible people?” It was rare for you to find someone who understood your ideas on literature. Most people think I’m weird when I talk about how much I love Shakespeare…

“Everyone has their flaws I suppose, hers seemed to be a poor taste in men.” Philip shrugged.

“Well, then I suppose it’s good that I don’t have that flaw right?” He quickly caught on to your subtle jab about his flirting earlier. His eyes were wide as you started to laugh at your own joke.

“Miss Y/N, I’m sure I do not know what you mean by that statement. I am the model gentleman and I will not stand for such accusations!” Philip responded with playful offence.

“How dare you, sir! Are you trying to insinuate something?” You made out between bursts of laughter. Alexander chuckled lightly at the two you, happy tears rolling down both of your cheeks. He looked outside and quickly stood up, getting yours and Philip’s attention.

“It’s getting late; Philip don’t you have work to do?” Alexander asked while putting his glasses down onto the table. Philip sighed and stood up.

“It isn’t that late Father, besides Y/N’s room may not be finished yet.” Philip gave an exaggerated hand motion towards you.

“No, no it’s fine! I don’t want to distract you from schoolwork or anything!” You hopped up off the couch and put the book back on the shelf where you found it. Philip followed you over to the door.

“Thanks for letting me use your study Alex.” You called out before leaving the room. Alex was too surprised by the name to call back out. Philip followed you out until you both made your way back to the main hall.

“I wish we could converse longer but Father is right, I must retire to my chambers for work. I…enjoyed your company today, that means I look forward to tomorrow as well.” Philip said with a sly smile.

“If you can handle my strong opinions on literature, music and society in general then I look forward to tomorrow as well.” You responded with a chuckle. You both said goodnight to each other, soon after Rachel found you and told you that your room was ready.

That night you were given a room in the serving quarters, next to Rachel’s room. She gave you a night dress and laid in the shockingly soft bed, your thoughts swirling. Maybe this is all a bad dream. Maybe not a bad dream per say but a dream nonetheless. If I fall asleep, I’ll wake up in my own bed in my own apartment and in my own modern time period. Just close your eyes Y/N. You didn’t realize that you were tired until that thought faded away and left you in the darkness of your subconscious. You saw something in the darkness, a small light, a blue light. Light is usually linked to the idea of heat and safety but for some reason this one didn’t. It was cold and foreboding, you didn’t like it. The light came closer and as it began to engulf your body, you heard a sound, something wooden slamming against something else and then your own voice.

“Excuse me!”

When you opened your eyes again you were still in the bed, still wearing the slightly scratchy gown, breaking out in a cold sweat. What the hell was that? That was…suffocating. Whatever… Everything happening right now is weird, just something new to add to the list I guess. You stretched out, got up and attempted to put back on the clothes that were given to you. Attempted being the operative word, you had to ask Rachel for help with tying the back. After that the both of you made your way down the halls.

“The first thing we will do today is check on Mrs. Hamilton, that’s the first thing we do every day actually.” She spoke with glee.

“Nice, so what exactly are-“ You were interrupted by a sound that made you feel squeamish. Coming from a room a few feet ahead of us. Rachel immediately ran for the door, you followed close behind. Busting into the room you both soon saw a disheveled Eliza, hunched over on the floor by her bed. Her face was half inside a wooden bucket, making noises that was a mixture of gurgling and gagging. Rachel made her way to her, pulled her hair back and patted her shoulder comfortingly. Eliza continued to vomit into the bucket for some time before she was finally given a chance to steady herself. You sat down beside her and looked her worriedly.

“Are you alright Eliza? Are you sick? Do you need a doctor? Rachel, should we go find a doctor?” You started to rattle off questions as the possibilities grew. Eliza shook her head, her eyes glassy as Rachel wiped the sweat off her brow.

“No, no Dear, I am perfectly fine. I am merely expecting!” She said weakly. Wait, expecting? Oh my god…

“You’re pregnant? That’s why your dress was… Eliza you are incredible!” You smiled at her happily, she looked confused for a moment.

“Incredible? I would not say that, although I am excited for this child.” She responded. This woman is the best person to ever exist. Not only is she the closest thing the United States ever had to royalty but she also deserved that shit! On top of everything she manages to have children and still be the best? Role Model of the year!

“Y/N, could you give me a hand with Mrs. Hamilton? I understand if you do not wish to clean out the bucket but if you could help her dress I would be very appreciative.” Rachel said as she helped Eliza to sit on her bed.

“I can clean the bucket, I don’t mind.”

“Truly? Thank you very much.” She picked up the bucket by the sides and handed it to you. “Take this outside to the garden, you will find a watering pump to clean it out.” She instructed you. You nodded and made your way down the hallways and out the back door in the kitchen. The garden was very beautiful, most of the plants seemed to be placed at random and yet it was still visually pleasing. No wonder Eliza likes it out here. You found the pump and quickly cleaned the bucket. Poor Eliza, pregnancy is rough. Once the bucket seemed clean you made your way back inside, intending on going back to Rachel and Eliza. Instead you stopped when you heard the sound of hooves and carriage wheels. Stepping inside the main room, the front door burst open and you were greeted with the site of an oddly distressed Alex. He mumbled something under his breath but stayed almost completely still, looking like the apocalypse had just begun.

“Alex? Are you alright? Did something happen?” You asked with concern. He looked over at you as you walked over to him, his voice was low and exasperated.

“John Adams just withdrew my seat in office.” He said with panic.

John Fat Motherfucking Adams!

#hamilton #hamilton the musical #hamilton fanfic #alexander hamilton #Philip Hamilton #alexander x reader #philip x reader #eliza schuyler #time travel au #CAN WE GET BACK TO POLITICS #lafayette #mulligan #thomas jefferson #james madison #john adams

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